The Drive of Shame

Day 2 Blink. My eyes opened to a dark unfamiliar room. Checked my watch. I'd been asleep 6 hours. Straight down. Straight back. And then I remembered. I was in Vegas.

I love that little surprise you sometimes get upon waking in a Vegas hotel.

Let's review how my Royally Royaling was going so far.

Use of Royal Plaza Premium lounge for free: FAIL
JetBlue lie-flat seat with drink ejector: COMPLETE SUCCESS
Royal Luxury Rental Vehicle: FAIL. The Honda Cletus pick-up truck does not qualify.
Royal Accommodations: COMPLETE SUCCESS. I am in a run-down actual fucking castle with actual plumbing.

Let's get something out of the way - the Little Giant coffee maker is in trouble. Real trouble.

I've got one of these cylindrical water heaters already (the Portable Beaker) but I forgot it in Canada.

So, I ordered a new one off of Temu. It is in every way better than the Portable Beaker. It's lighter. It is cylindrical, not octagonal. It has control over temperature. It heats faster.

When I compare other travel coffee solutions to the Little Giant, I look at two things. Weight, and displacement in cubic inches.

The Portable Kettle is the same height as the Little Giant, and therefore, takes up about half as much room, which is obvious when you put them side by side. Jimmy Poon is working out how many cubic inches the thing is.

It's about 2 or 3 ounces heavier than the Little Giant, so about a pound.

It's hollow, so you can pack things in it to save space. Things like punishment snacks. Or rolls of hundred dollar bills. Things like that.

And, it heats enough water to make coffee in about 2 minutes, plus another minute or so to drip through the silicone filter cone. The Little Giant takes 6 minutes to make a cup.

You could potentially heat other liquids in the Portable Kettle as well. Things like consomme. Or gravy. Or ramen. Things like that.

Fifteen bucks on Temu. Four bucks for the silicone dealy on Amazon. Let's see how the kettle holds up over the longer term, but for now, it's a winner.

I had some snack trail mix packet thingies from home, and my coffee (two royally cups!) and wrote up the blog in which I did not gamble on the first day. Shocking, really. But perhaps signifying my advancing years. I've been at this Vegasing thing for so long, I'm old in tree rings - but still young in spirit.

The Dirty Pool

My buddy YoLeven is in town, so we made plans to meet for lunch at Cosmo. I was honestly feeling pretty rough just from traveling, but I really wanted to get a free lunch meet up with an old gambling buddy.

The time was right to kick off the gambling! I headed down to the casino.

Over the years I've watched my daily budget increase from $80 to as much as $1000. A conservative amount for playing quarters was $300 a day for many, many trips. Now I allot myself a ballpark $500 a day. Hopefully there will be some winners, and there will probably be one or two really bad days.

I'd brought $1,000 in cash with me and we had plans!

Dollar triple play Jacks or Better? Let's kick this thing off!!!

$100 went into the machine. It went really well!!! I played for 12 minutes.

$100 went into the machine. Two minutes.

$100 went into the machine. This one went much better. I built back up to about $300 and played for a long while. Long enough that I started to wonder where the four-of-a-kinds were. Because none were hitting.

$100 went into the machine. Gone.

No problem, it's a long trip, lots can happen, and I'm treating my Royal self Royally, right.

$100 went into the machine. Now I was in for $500. My entire day's budget.

I hit a bunch of things - like dealt fulls house, dealt straights - and worked up, up, up all the way to $400. My inner Jimmy Poon was screaming at me to cash out and accept the loss, and live to fight another time. My inner Royal Flusher was screaming you've played almost an hour with no quads. You should have had three or four by now.

$100 went into the machine. Gone in 2 minutes.

That was an hour, probably 500 hands times 3 (triple play) for a total of 1,500 hands. A quad expected on average every 400 hands.

I'd had none. It was time to fire up the Honda Cletus pick-up truck and head over to Cosmo, down $600 in an hour of play in the casino.

I probably should have walked to Cosmo - it took a half an hour to navigate the back way, which took me all the way to Caesars before I could head east to pick up the Strip and find the Cosmo entrance. And the underground parking at Cosmo is always a disaster.

YoLeven was having a bash at the sports book bar, and I joined him in a little video Keno action.

A frequent visitor to Cosmo, YoLeven had a bunch of resort credits to burn, and so treated me and his godparents (who live in town) to a delicious lunch at China Poblano.

Everything was amazing! The food was so tasty - from the freshly made guacamole to the salsa, to the queso fundido, and of course, the tacos. The 20 vegetable fried rice was stellar.

The godparents were lovely people and I felt privileged to share some time with Yo's family.

After lunch, YoLeven and I retired to the bar, where I still had $57 on a ticket from my $100 buy-in before lunch.

Well it was just a drain. Both of us could hit nothing. I left Cosmo full in spirit, full in tummy, and light in bankroll.

Because I'd dropped $300 in Cosmo and was now down $900 on the day. Oopsies.

My head swirled with rationalizations. It was okay to play heavy now and again. I hadn't played the night before, so I still had that $500 available to lose, which I did. I'd had $900 worth of fun, fun, fun! (I hadn't.)

Quickly I formulated the kind of stupid plan that leads to stupid outcomes. I located a Bank of America ATM near South Point. I'd do the walk of shame, and play some more, and hopefully do better.

I pointed the Honda Cletus south on the strip and 20 minutes later found the Bank of America. And as I was pulling in I had a thought. A not very good thought.

I parked.

Checked my gambling wallet. Nope. Not there. I'd transferred my license, credit card, cash - but forgotten my ATM card.

I drove over to South Point with that dread feeling that every gambler hates. I was almost out of money - and no way to get any more.

I had $100 left of my stake and maybe $30 in admin money for tips and stuff that I could degenerately throw onto the bonfire of bad luck that defined the day thus far.

I'd just have to flim flam around and see what I could do.

Having a proven inability to get quads this day, I opted for Boner Deluxe, in which any chance at winning depends on getting quads.

I played along for quite a while above my $100 buy-in, which eased the pressure a little.

And it didn't take very long before I had my first quad of the day!

Four threes for $100. No kicker gotten or required. Maybe there was some hope?

I played for a quite a long while and then switched up to the 50 cent denomination. And I found myself back at my original $100 buy-in.

I really needed to win some money. Increasing the stakes seemed like the rational thing to do. I was thinking I could well be walking back to the Honda Cletus in about 3 minutes.

But it happened for me! Yes, it did!!!

BOOM! A $400 quad!!!! Fantastic!!! I was no longer completely degenerate!

Now I was 'only' down $500 on the day, which met my allotment.

I wandered around South Point for a while (I keep wanting to call it South Park) and tried to figure out what to do, looking for a machine that was calling me.

And I found one, sat down and looked at the games available. I needed to win more money somehow.

The last couple of trips I've had a hankering to try to win on the Loose Doose. It has been forever since I hit the 2,500 credit ducks. Like years. Like a bunch of years.

And then I had a thought - with the new tax regulations, hitting 2,500 credits at the 50 cent denomination would no longer trigger any tax paperwork (and in my case, 30% withheld by the IRS).

So that's where I attacked.

It really went very well for quite a while, but ultimately I lost $100.

$100 went into the machine.

And I dropped and dropped - nothing was hitting. So what to do? Switch games? Move on?

In the end, I decided that if I switched games and got four Deuces I would be mightily pissed. I would have to change machines if I switched games, to manage the potential self-cursing shitstorm that would ensure and reason that I wouldn't have missed anything if I got the four Deuces because it was a different machine.

No, I would tough it out and try to get those ducks.

I had allll kinds of chances at wild royals, but no more were forthcoming. I was dealt three Deuces once. Nope.

And then out of the blue, held two, click thud click, got two more.

Holy shit, what a hit! THE LOOSE DOOSE!!!!!!!

Go figure. You dump $900 hitting nothing. Drive to the bank to do the walk of shame but you forgot your ATM card. Take your last $100 to the casino, and walk out of there up $410.

That's what happened. I did play a bit more after the Deuces, and picked up a little drinking something at the gift shop for celebration later, but I didn't hit anything more. I did think of buying some reclining nude lady mudflaps for the truck, though.

It wasn't until later that I realized I'd hit three sets of Deuces in total - two on Boner Deluxe, and one on the Loose Doose, where it really counted.

On the way back to the Dirty Castle, I stopped at Smith's and rooted around for some room camping supplies. I wasn't hungry yet after the feast at China Poblano, but bought a roast beef sandwich anyway - I was so tired, I knew that once I got to my room I'd be staying put.

Celebration Cheese

What an amazing day. It was totally fun, engaging, and I'd pulled a win out of my butt at the last minute. This is what keeps me coming back.

That, and the celebration cheese.

JetBlue Mint to Vegas

Day 1 part 2 Let's cut to the chase, all the marketing hype aside, JetBlue did not give me even one single mint. Not even a linty Tic Tac from the left pocket of my Sunday pants.

Why are they missing what has to be the most obvious thing to give away in Mint class? Pepper, Spear, or Establish, any kind of mint will do.

But the rest of the trip was great!

Boarding was a dream. I basically just strolled on with the other minties. I couldn't wait to cocoon myself in my double-windowed lie-flat seat!

It is quite a system, almost an Apollo YoLeven style capsule space cadet command cockpit, with all kinds of storage for complimentary water and other of your gear, a big(-ish) touchscreen TV console with remote, and headphones for listening with, and a lie-flat seat configuration console.

They'd put a sleeping kit on my seat along with an amenity kit. The sleeping thiny includes a pillow and a sort of blankie/sleeping bag thing. Ok, it's a blankie.

The Amenity kit is nice enough, I guess. It certainly had plenty of amenities. The star of the kit has to be the mint socks.

Included: 'Feel good' branding wrapper, zippered carrying bag, Mint branded socks, Fancified Dr. Dennis hand cream, mouthwash, and lip balm. Better choice than those discounted Doc Johnson products I've seen cropping up on eBay, I guess. Tuft and Needle eye plugs, Dr. Dennis 2 part face stripper.

Missing: Mints of any kind, Doc Johnson 'After Party' toothbrush.

I was offered a pre-flight drink and of course accepted. Camalee (or was it Lyla?) brought me a Woodford Reserve on the rocks, served in a very light, unstable, small bottomed, defective, unusable, accident prone plastic cup.

Sipping the Woodford, I surveyed my surroundings, trying to figure out all the nooks, crannies, buttons, and knobs without appearing fidgity.

Doors closed, pushback imminently, Lyla (or was it Camalee) insisted that my small personal item (ahem) which is quite heavy as it contains my Chromebook, my CPAP, and all the other things I need to survive.

These things happen to me and I think at the time, "Nobody - NOBODY - has to know about this."

As I lifted the bag to Camalyla, yes, of course, the Woodford got dumped on the passenger next to me. Fuck.

I felt like such an ASS. And I'd wasted good bourbon. Camalyla was very fast to clean things up. I looked the poor fellow in the eye and apologized with all sincerity.

"Dude - I am so, so sorry that Camalyla dumped my drink down your pant leg."

And you know what this meant, right?

I had relinquished all rights to accessing the washroom. I would not be allowed to disturb this poor dripping wet bastard in any way for the next 5 hours.

We took off on time and dinner production ensued. Man, the cabin smelled good! The menu was 'small plates'. You could choose up to 3 of 4.

Easy. I took the 3 that were not salad.

The food was excellent, although two of the three dishes weren't very hot. The pasta was absolutely delicious though, piping hot, and spicy.

I felt Royally Royal as I (very, very carefully) ploughed through all my food. I even ordered a replacement Woodford, in a fleeting moment of overconfidence. This one, I would not spill.

Dessert was Tiramisu. Excellent.

The rest of the flight was just chill out time. I stretched out a bit. Watched an episode of Below Deck. Stretched out a little more. And a little more.

Should have taken my shoes off - the little footy-foot compartment is a little cramped when lie-flat mode is engaged.

It felt so good to be able to lie down and nap. It had been a long day and by midnight, my bod was complaining.

We arrived on time at 2:00 am. I was hoping for a swift transition to my lodgings in my luxury rented automobile. That was not to happen.

I found the rental car facility shuttle. And waited. And waited. It took forever for a bus to appear and another forever and a half for the stupid bus to finally depart, all the while playing an annoying 60 second clip on loop - a portion of the annoying 4 minute presentation normally on loop. Did you know that with Ace rent-a-car, you don't have to go into the rental facility building? I learned that - 47 times.

Normally, the Avis app notifies me that my car is available and let's me choose. As an Avis Preferred member, I can simply walk to the car I've chosen, get in, and drive away. Not this time. No cars available for the choosing.

So I shlepped to the Avis Preferred booth and I'll cut to the chase. They had no cars. They offered an Escalade but it would be $26 a day more. I called bullshit on that.

Trying to keep in the good graces of the boothlings, I pretended to cry and in anguish, pounded the counter while shouting, "But I prepaid!!! I... Pre... PAID....".

I could take an electric car, but I'd have to go up to the main counter. I called double bullshit on that. There had to be a solution. The boothlings stared intently at the computer, mumbling and fussing.

This was not royally at all. This was royally fucked.

(Hope I didn't use that one too early in the trip.)

Behold, my luxury rental automobile:

Whatever. It drove fine and got me to my luxurious royal accomodations.

All I can say is I am incredibly thankful that the key system on my phone worked first time, and I was able to get into my room at Excalibur without any drama.

(I would have booked Luxor, but it would have costed $300 more for the Saturday night. Excalibur was resort fee only, $30 Freeplay and $100 buffet play).

Wanna see a hotel room? Sure you do. Newly remodeled. Gah!

It was 4:30 in the morning. Late enough to be early the next day. I did not go to the casino. I did not gamble. I went to bed.

Day 1 Win/Loss: $0

Trip Win/Loss: $0 and an extra Mintless Doc Johnson Amenity Kit I stole from the guy I dumped the drink on. Don't judge me, the socks are fire! WINNING

Royal Royally!

Day 1 - One gets tired of being treated like a sack of potatoes. Like on the last trip to Vegas.

I think the breaking point for me was when I found myself jammed into economy, arms folded to try to avoid touching the dude next to me.

He'd fallen asleep and his head was tilted at a crazy angle. If his goal was to direct his nostril wind onto my bare skin, he'd succeeded.

There was barely enough legroom.

There was a stopover in the sprawling Atlanta airport.

The door-to-door trip was some 13 hours even though the flying time is 5 hours.

Enough.

With a winning Vegas trip at the end of 2025, and a winning Vegas trip at the end of 2024 (that's two in a row, in case you missed it!) I wanted to go back.

The search began. I wanted a better experience. I wanted - no demanded - a non-stop flight from Florida.

Paydirt.

I used 35,000 Avion points and $400 cash to book JetBlue out of Orlando return to Vegas and back.

And I'm in Mint. YES MINT.

My own little pod, where I can stretch out in a lie flat seat, be treated like royalty, and fart and scratch with impunity.

This is the manner in which I wish to become accustomed.

I booked the best parking at Orlando (except valet). I rented a car in Vegas for the first time in a couple of years.

Yes, I booked it and I'm on my way to Vegas right now, Saturday night, Feb 14th, 2026.

I had some lounge passes from some credit card or other, so I got to the airport and searched for the lounge. I walked all the way to my gate before finding out it was back where I started.

It was about a 10 minute walk.

Oh I had dreams of included drinks, food, maybe a quick shower... 

Wrong. The Plaza Premium lounge was full. 25 minute wait. That wouldn't give me much time to eat and haul ass back to the gate. Now I know.

I said screw that, and walked the long trek back to gate 232. On the way, I checked with JetBlue on what food was going to be available - small plates only. And snacks probably.

My royal self-esteem went in the dumper. I picked up some Punishment Cheese to supplement my Punishment Snacks.

Is this the way this trip is going to go???