Go For Broke!

The sweet comeback at the Cal happened in about half an hour. But what was even cooler was that for about 20 minutes I was talking to an elderly articulate Hawaiian gentleman sitting next to me.

He shared his first-hand recollections of the attack on Pearl Harbour, having been 8 years old at the time. I felt honored to hear these about experiences.

We talked about Hawaii, history, the treatment of, and the role of Japanese people in WW2 by both of our countries. He told me about the 442nd Infantry Regiment made up of Japanese-American soldiers from Hawaiian who fought with valor and amongst many other successes, rescued the "Lost Platoon".

It turns out that there was recently a gathering of 442nd at the California, just a few weeks ago. I wonder if they stormed the video poker machines the way I did? I sure hope so.

Connecting with a stranger, and sharing thoughts and memories, is a pretty cool event that happens sometimes in Vegas. It takes you away from the game to somewhere new and the insights you gain are priceless. This is the kind of thing that helps reset your compass... reboots your heart a little bit.

I slept like a motherflusher with all the goodness surrounding me, including the gobs of won-back-to-almost-even cash.

Got up early Tuesday morning with big plans for a big day. And that included some video poker. (Duh.)

I hit the Double Double Bonus at the bar and blew through $100. No problem though, I had the whole day and $300 left. I just needed to get a quad or two and I'd be fine.

I hit the easier Bonus Poker. Played great. Blew through an easy $100. No problem though, I had $200 left and most of the morning to get a quad or two. I'd be just fine.

I hit the 100-play for a change. That would be fun, right? Blew through my money there. Small problem. I really needed a quad or two. I had a $150 left and the whole day ahead. I was fucked.

$10 Keno ticket... nada.

$20 on Jacks did net me a quad which I tried to parlay and did - I parlayed it into CREDIT 0.

Okay, another one of THOSE mornings.

The line-up at Magnolia's was down the stairs and out to the craps pit, so I said "Frankly Magnolia, I don't give a damn (about your southern country throwup gravy)" and grabbed a buffet breakfast at the Fremont. And what do I spy? A VAT of C.T.G the thickness of lumpy oatmeal., a BUCKET of breakfast taters sliced from tubers the size of footballs, and a PEN of pork sausages the size of sausages. Now that is a fine gambling breakfast!

I only had a little while before checkout and I went back to the King's Bar DDB and committed - a twenty. Then I committed - another twenty.

I shoved my last hundred into the machine, and got busy. I needed a quad (multiple quads...) and I needed it (they...) now.

Oh, by the way... the motto of the 442nd?

Go for broke.