I slept great, knowing that my footguards had secured the castle perimeter and were stationed outside my room, at various places in the corridor, in the parapets, and in the kiddy arcade in the basement.
Grabbed another latte from Starbucks and hit the VP again to try to get some more play on my account. The first 20 lasted 5 minutes, and I swear the second one, I got no wins on, save one 3 of a kind. Now that is brutal. The third 20 was more fruitful, yielding a couple of quads for me. Had an hour of play and lost $60.
I decided to see if the hosts would pick up my resort fees of $30 or so based on my pretty heavy quarter play. Headed down to the VIP lounge and was told, no that wouldn't be possible. She mumbled stuff about the $6 in Express Comps I still had. Blah blah, don't these people remember how comps really should work?
So I asked what kind of play they were looking for to be able to pick up extras.
Apparently on this stay I was over comped by 65%. My coin in and out were about identical, around $8,000. That's not that easy to do in less than 48 hours on just quarters. I have the blisters to prove it.
"So you're telling me I'd have to play $12,000 a day on quarters to get any additional comps?"
She looked down her medieval nose at me and smirked "yes".
I packed my stuff up, checked the time of the next WAX bus and found I could just make it. I left Excalibur for the last time this trip, shedding not a tear. Actually, I'd had fun, but what is with the comp situation these days? For $4,000 downtown I get room and food no problem, plus tournaments.
As I crossed the drawbridge to NYNY, one of the peasantry was laid out, begging, with a sign that said "Save the Hooters and Beavers". I gave him kudos for his valuable sentiments, clearly expressed on a hunk of wrinkled cardboard.
Made it to the WAX stop with plenty of time to hang around in the heat, and to swelter, and sweat, and check my watch 15,000 times. Finally the bus arrived and I ponied up my $2.
"You on the right bus?" the driver asked.
"Yup. WAX to Fremont. Two bucks. My favorite ride, brother."
We pulled out and 22 minutes later, I was downtown, outside Walgreens, and a pretty good hike from the California. Eleven sweaty minutes, in fact.
The temperature was up to full roast. 91.4F to be exact. My balls got sweated off somewhere around the Fremont, and my ass got sweated off outside Binions. By the time I made it to the back of the California, half of my body parts were sweated off.
I checked in and got a fine room in the East Tower. Sixth floor. Actually, I liked this room better than any of the downtown rooms. It didn't beat the Excalibur TV room but it was pretty darn good. Had a good place to write my blog from unlike the Trashy Castle.
One of the reasons I was at the Cal, was for a Slot Tournament. I hung around outside the Poipoi Mahalo Aloha Wiki Poona Durango Room, upstairs at the Cal, and played some Double Double Bonus (next to some new potential I.S.G.s). I even managed to hit a nice quad for $65.
Registration was fast and painless, unlike my fourth (unsuccessful) vasectomy. (I'm not sure the guys at the Lemon-Ayd Auto Body Shop really know what they are doing with that electric welder, but that's another sad story.)
You meet some interesting people in lineups in Vegas, and today I met a woman who is surfing on various offers for the next two months! She moves from hotel to hotel, casino to casino. Her mom lives in town as a backup in case she hits a dry spot on her offers. To me, this sounds like a retirement plan, and she seems to be enjoying it. I do wonder what her win/loss ratio is like though.
I tried my 'lucky' Double Double upright, upstairs at the Cal, and dumped $40 in the time it takes to whistle "Like a Virgin". With that, I was off to get some scratch cards at Main Street Station, and hopefully rebuild some of my Revenge winnings.
The bar was unkind and I lost $20 quickly on Bonus Deluxe, and then $40 on Jacks are Better. I dumped another 20 in and kept playing Jacks until it was half gone, then deftly switched to Double Double Bonus, the game in which you lose 3 times as fast, but win 3 times as much when you do hit. And hit I did, quad threes with a kicker this time for $200 beans. And what's oddest about it, is it was again my last 5 credits to do it.
For fun, I phoned Mrs. Flusher back in Flusherville so she could listen in while I took a $100 flyer on dollar Bonus Poker. I called out the hands as I played, and quickly started to drain.
"CHANGE MACHINES," she squawked down the wire and over the cellular airwaves to my FlusherFone.
I did. I was down $30 very quickly, and I did. Played away for a bit but I had something in mind... BAIL when I hit $50.
And that moment came very fast. I was losing. Losing way too quickly. It wasn't working. I cashed out, grabbed my ticket and got up.
"Well now what?" I asked, and as I looked around, I spied with my little flusher fucking eye, the lone $5 Wheel of Meat machine outside the 777 Brewpub.
"Mrs. Flusher, I just spied the one $5 Wheel of Meat machine outside the 777 Brewpub. I'm gonna go for it."
Now, this puppy is a two coiner and had a million plus jackpot on the scroller. That means its ten bucks a pull. But I was feeling stupid, so why not??
Because it's ten bucks a pull, that's why not.
Deftly, I slipped the $50 in 'winnings' from my hundred buy-in at video poker, and deftly I watched the machine tote up the credits. Deftly, I said, "Here I go,", and then I pressed the Bet Max button (very deftly).
Well wouldn't cha knowit, I got to spin the big Wheel of Meat on the first pull.
"I get to spin! I get to spin!" I shouted over the phone. Mrs. F could hear everything, it was like she was right there with me. Once centimeter high. Living in my FlusherFone. With tickets for the Fifteen Foot Titanic.
I hit the Spin button and the wheel went round and a recording of people clapping played and I waited and for a second it looked like I would get some big-ass prize, and then they pulled that away from me and of course it popped over to the next part of the wheel... and I won $250!!!
You couldn't have seen my hand flash to the Cash Out button. Lightning doesn't move as fast as I did. I was OUTTA THERE with a sweet $240 profit, and the Flusherina got to audibly witness it. Cheap fun for her.
I said goodbye and wandered into the brewpub to order a pizza. It came, I ate, and it was really, really good. I carted the remainders back to my room to be stuffed into the fridge there. Then I hit the machines again.
And lost. And lost. And lost some more.
I couldn't hit a goddamned thing. It got so bad I bought two keno tickets - a dollar a game each for 15 games - and crashed in the room. The tickets weren't doing well, and soon I slumbered my way into a napful slumber. When I awoke, I headed back to Main Street Station, deftly forgetting the stupid Keno tickets in the room.
There were a couple of quads waiting for me, but just as much losing. As soon as I got ahead, I lost it back. When it was all over, the $200 bar win had gone away, and I'd quit as I hit zero, so I wouldn't have a losing day.
The numbers said day win/loss: $0, trip so far: +$371 revenge dollars. I went to sleep in my room knowing that it was the last sleep I would have in my room on the trip, because I would be leaving the room for home, very, very, soon.
After tomorrow.
After tomorrow, the last day in Vegas (on which I would be leaving) of my trip. I also wondered if my Keno tickets had made me very, very revengeful.
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