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Monday, February 11, 2013

Squidward's CES 2013 Trip Report Part 2: The Second Part of the First Day

Squidward's CES 2013 Trip Report Part 2: The Second Part of the First Day

Keep it goin' Mr. Squidward!...

Squidward writes:

The First Day Part 2

The phone started ringing, the radio alarm clock was going off, and my cell phone alarm was chirping away.  Shit!

I awoke at 10:00 am and got out of bed to disarm and silence all of this racket.  Don’t remember setting all these alarms.  As I sit at the end of the bed awaiting the nausea and headache when I come to the realization that I am not hungover…. I’m still drunk as Cooter Brown. Oh for those who do not know… Cooter Brown was a drunkard… Google it.

So now I tried to assess the damage from the earlier morning’s antics.  All of my clothes were strewn on the ugly leather couch that is included without side tables in the Corner King at The D.  Stumble to the couch and play the “Check-your-pockets-cause-you-have-no-idea-if-you-won-or-lost-money-last-night-game.” I found $87 and change along with 6 black chips from The Fremont.  Guess I did not bother cashing them out after the Pit Boss kicked us out for pissing off Evoni’s evil twin.

Stumbled over to the safe and pressed in my code to get my wallet out. The safe responded with a LED readout “LOCKED”… Shit!  Squatted down and sat my drunk butt on the floor in front of the safe.  Mashed in my 4 digit code….”LOCKED”…. Double Shit!  Tried various combinations hoping to recreate my obvious “fat fingering” of the code from last night.  And remember I was sober when I entered this… Shit!

Now what?  Go over to the phone and through my still drunken haze look at the large array of options on this phone.  There was a button that said “Guest Services”.  Hey I’m a guest and unlocking a locked safe was a service, right? 

Well, mashed the button and a friendly voice answered, “Good morning Mr. Squidward, how may I help you?”

Wow, that was a pleasant surprise… so I slurred “Can’t unlock my room safe, can you help me with that?”

Well it was probably more like “Cnt ulock safe, pleeeze helme oggie-doggie?” 

Anyway she said “No problem sir, I will have security come up to your room and take care of this…. It happens all the time!” 

I responded “Oggie-doggie!” and hung up.

I returned to the end of the bed, sat down, turned on The Weather Channel, then stared at my $30 fucking little bottle of fucking Johnnie Walker Black and contemplated the idea of pouring myself a nice stiff one and continuing on with the day as a drunken degenerate gambler.  Then there was a loud knock at the door and a loud deep voice said “SECURITY!”

Now most of the time I would be alarmed at this sound, but this time I was glad to hear it!  Stumbled to the door and opened it up to see a HUGE SECURITY GUARD.  Seriously this guy was huge; NFL linebacker huge.  I’m 6’ 2” and I had to look way up to make eye contact with this guy.  He also had the worst B.O. I have experienced in a long time.

I made the wise choice not to make a comment about this.

He looked at me and said “Got drunk and forgot your combination, Huh?”

I was tempted to explain that I was sober when I locked it, but just replied meekly “Yezzer, fraid so.”  He said “No Problem”, sort of shoved me aside, and sat down in front of the safe.  He whipped out a jewelers screwdriver, a small metal nail file, and a dental tool.  Literally 15 seconds later… pop… it was open.

Looked at me and said “Come over here and try to lock it an open it again.”  I went over there, locked it with my code, and then opened it with my code.  He smiled at me and said “There you go sir, now I have to get back down-stairs and wrestle drunk idiots out of the casino.  I like doing this, need a rest from all the drunk-fights every once in a while.”  That explained the B.O…. honest sweat as we say.

The huge security guard left before I could give him a tip… I realized that I had been standing around in my boxer shorts and wife-beater undershirt the whole time.  Shit!

So I made the executive decision to by-pass the $30 fucking little bottle of fucking scotch and get dressed and go to the show.  Took a refreshing shower in my un-remodeled bathroom appointed with fixtures that have been around since the 70’s.

Finished my shower, and reached for my one and only bath towel.  It was hanging on the rack over the toilet.    Yep, I bet you could see this coming, the towel slipped out of my drunken hands and plunk, right into the toilet bowl.  SHIT!

So stumbled out of the shower and dried off with the remaining six wash cloths and four hand towels.  Oh well, pulled the bath towel out of the toilet, and left a messy pile for the maid to deal with.

Drank my morning refreshment of Orange flavored Alka-Seltzer cold medicine, got dressed, and went to collect my credentials for the CES convention.

Apparently I left my badge at home… Shit!

Fortunately I had my receipt packed, I always bring a copy of every reservation, receipt, etc. for just this contingency.  Additionally I grabbed my boarding pass from Spirit so I could scam another $50 free play from The D.

Double-checked the safe a couple of times and then headed downstairs.  Stopped by McDonalds for a cup of coffee, went across the street to Binion’s, and purchased a 3-day bus pass at the kiosk.  Got on the SDX and the security ladies were checking for passes.  Now, while I had my pass out, I was severely lectured about the coffee.  Security lady told me “You can’t have that on the bus! if I see you take even one sip, you will have to get off and finish it!”  Not even 11:30 am and I’m already pissing off the ladies?  Shit!

Get off the bus at the LVCC with my cold coffee, and finish it off as I walk over to the registration booth.  Tell the lady that I have left my badge at home, but have my receipt.  She directs me to the huge registration tent across the street where they can print me another one.

So I hike it over to the huge tent.  There are like 100 attendants standing around and I am the only customer in there.  They looked at me like I was crashing their party.  But someone finally took pity on my now somewhat sober ass.  Presented my receipt, credentials, and ID got my badge and walked out.

Checked my schedule on the Cell Phone App and realized that my scheduled appointment was upstairs in the South Hall.  Shit!  That is the farthest part of the LVCC away from the bus stop and registration area.  I’m pretty much feeling like a big ole brown turd at this point.  This sobering up was getting painful.

I called the rep that I had an appointment with to beg him to reschedule our meeting.  He answered and said “Oh hi Mr. Squidward, I apologize, I will be late for our meeting.  It was a late night last night… I’m still at my hotel and it will take me a couple of hours to get over there.” 

I said “Well this is very inconvenient, I am already booked this afternoon, how about tomorrow at the same time?” 

He, of course, agreed and apologized over and over.  I know, I know, I am just a Big-Fat-Lying-Hung-Over-Big-Brown-Turd.  But then again, at least I have an excuse to abort today’s convention activities and get back to my typical drunken-degenerate-gambling behavior!

So back to the bus stop and back down-town.  Get off and head across the street to The Fremont.  Hey, they may have kicked me out earlier but they did not say I could not come back.  Besides, I had showered and changed clothes since then.  I went to the bar without incident; I did peek over to make sure the Pit Boss who kicked me out was not there.  I ordered a $2 Heineken, stiffed the bartender… plopped down two bucks without a tip.  I know it is immature to take it out on this poor bartender, but I was still holding a grudge.  Went over to the cashier and cashed out my chips from the blackjack session.

Finished my beer and went over to the bar in the back and got another $2 Heineken, yep stiffed another bartender.  I feel better now… I guess I showed those pricks at the Fremont who treat drunk Texans and Australians so poorly.

Go over to The D walk over to Club D the nice ladies confirm my free play from the comp offer and process my additional $50 free play with my Spirit boarding pass.  She congratulated me for doing this within the 24 hour time frame.  I made it clear that savvy gamblers will always comply with the rules.  Obviously, she does not read… she just rolled her eyes and said “Have a nice day sir.”  Well at least I did not piss her off.

Went back up to my 12th floor Corner King room at the D.  As a side note for those that stay on the 12th floor of The D.  This is the floor with all the ball rooms and conference rooms.  They were having a large meeting there and it was a pain in the ass getting through the crowds to my room.

I changed clothes… when I say I changed clothes… I switched out my business casual boxer shorts for my LUCKY brightly colored man-thong.  Yes, I can be just as superstitious as a drunken Australian (WHISKEY!)  Well I don’t know if it is the luck or just the feeling of my bare butt cheeks rubbing against my outerwear making me feel a little extra sexy.  Ohhh… I apologize; I was over sharing again… Flusher warned me about this…. Shit!

Anyway, I checked that the maid stocked me with a full accompaniment of towels and wash cloths… check.  Used my leftover McDonald's orange juice glass and made me a triple scotch and water with my $30 fucking little bottle of fucking scotch and headed over to MSS.  As I was well stocked with libations for this jaunt and a little chilly out I took the slower in-door route.  That means I went through the Four Queens, over and through the Golden Nugget, then walked by Glitter Gulch to see if I could peek in and see some titties (nope, Shit!)  Then walked through the Las Vegas Club, just to see if it still smelled like a fart in there (yep, Shit!) Then over to the Cal and crossed to MSS for another session of VP at the Boars Head Bar.

Sat and played quarter DDB while drinking a few Pale Ales and talking to the lovely bartender Kelly.  I asked her if she was doing the masseuse thing at CES like she used too.  She told me the guy that had the business does not do that anymore and CES uses those mechanical chair things now, not human beings.  She did give me one of her business cards.  She told me “I don’t give these out to just anyone, but I have known you for years, you are a nice guy and not a creeper.”

I was thinking to myself “If she knew I was sitting here wearing a man-thong, she would never have given me this card.”  So please, no one tell her what a degenerate I really am, OK?

I had a buzz again, but was feeling hungry, so I went over to the Triple 7.  Sat at the bar, ordered a cup of chili and a Cherry Stout.  The chili was great as usual, but the Stout was undrinkable, tasted like a Dr. Pepper beer, yuck and Shit!  My server poured it out and replaced it with a less adventuress High Roller.  She agreed with me that the Stout was less than acceptable.

Finished up my meal, paid with points, left a $5 tip and went back to the bar for more VP.  Played DDB, drank Heinekens as fast as they were offered and shot the shit with Jose. 

He was asking me all about CES, I was vague with my answers and he finally looked at me and said “Squid, it’s Wednesday already; you haven’t even been to the convention yet have you?”

I admitted sheepishly “Uhhh, no; but I’m really going to go tomorrow!” 

He just shook his head and replied “After all these years, you never change.”

Anyway the gambling results were once again brutal.  I would invest a hundred or so in DDB without a 4OAK to be seen.  But of course I would get two pair, after two pair, after two pair.  I would switch over to JOB and of course get dealt 4 Aces with Kicker for a measly 125 credits.  Switch back to DDB and get slaughtered.  I got over five 4 Aces with and without kickers.  I did get two scratch offs for $3 instead of $2.  But this was no even close enough to keep me even.  DDB killed me… Shit! 

Believe me I tried every thing moved up and down the bar… machine after machine.  Kelly and Jose were laughing at my sad attempts to get anything going.  In a good natured way… they know as long as I stay with the quarter games I stay within my budget.  I also got dealt four to a royal at least ten times on those DDB games.  It got to the point that I preferred a five card draw over the four to a royal… I know… not very savvy… I took my second beat down at MSS like a champ.

I did notice one thing when I started playing… my card points were up almost 8,000 from when I left on my first beat down.  I know with a Sapphire card I get double points, but I thought that was just for slot points not my card points.  Who knows, maybe that prick Pit Boss last night rated me higher than he should have.  Come to think about it I don’t know if table play affects points on the BConnected accounts… never asked.  Don’t care, that Pit Boss was still a prick!

So I looked down after this horrible beat down, and noticed that my card score was more than high enough to keep me Sapphire even when my points roll off in February?   Anyway after losing over $400 I go cash out my measly little ticket and scratch off cards.  I was getting tired, the lack of sleep is getting to me.

I head back to The D via the fart-route, that’s the Las Vegas Club, remember.  As I am pretty tipsy (drunk) and not feeling the cold, I walked all the way through the Fremont Experience crowds.

I saw a couple of interesting things. The peddley/beer drinky/bicycley/cart thing almost ran over my drunk ass.  But all the riders gave me high fives as they swerved around me… so it was all good.

I witnessed a Michael Jackson impersonator get into a fight with a drunken tourist.  I was rooting for the tourist, but Michael connected with a wicked body punch right hook combination and the drunk dude went down.  Cops snatched them both and they were hustled down a side street within 20 seconds.  OK that was exciting in a scary/dangerous sort of way.  The fight woke me up, so when I got back to the D I went upstairs to the relatively quiet Vue Bar to play off my free play.

Asked the Bartender how to activate my free play, cause I’m drunk and don’t want to think to hard.  He tells me “Sorry, you have to go downstairs, only some of the slot machines do that up here.”  I protested and said “I hate that loud stupid hip-hop crap down there!”  He apologized, “I hear you brother, I dread the days that they assign me down there.”

So, down the escalator for my senses to be assaulted.  Don’t get me wrong, I like the pretty girls down here, I could tolerate the music, but just not so damn loud, Shit!  So I wander around The D looking for a playable VP machine that will accept my free play.  I try to ignore the loud music by focusing on the sexy sensation of my butt cheeks brushing against my britches… Oh sorry, over sharing again. Shit!

I finally find a DDB 9/5 quarter machine back by the check-in area… and it’s much quieter back here.  At least you only hear the crappy music… you don’t feel your upper body compress with each bass note.  Stick my card in and realize I don’t have a fucking clue as to how get my free play.  I had already ordered a J&B and soda from the very quick and pretty waitress.

So I sat there and asked a little old lady a couple of machines down if she knew how.  She looked me right in the eye and said “NO! Now Fuck-off and leave me alone!”

Whoa, sorry, my ability to piss off the ladies has not diminished this evening…

Any way the cute and fast waitress returns with my drink and gives me the stink-eye as I do not have any credits on the machine.  I quickly grab the drink from her outreached hand, ask her if she knows how to access my free play, and immediately reach in my pocket and hand her a fiver for a tip.  Well her stink-eye vanishes and she recommends that I go ask the attendant at the Club D desk.  Well I thought my quick snatch and tip was pretty savvy gambling… well maybe not... but it kept me out of trouble for the time being.

So I walk over to the slot club wondering to my self “Squid, why did you switch back to Scotch from beer? Nothing good ever happens when you do this.”  I answered to myself “Cause I’m drunk, working on three hours sleep, and because I’m drunk!”  Shit!

Now I go up to the nice slot booth attendant lady who gave me the free play in the first place.  I ask her “Can I get one of those little cards that have instructions on how to access my free play?”  She looks at me and says “Come with me and show me the machine you want to play, I’m not sure you can follow the directions, tee-hee-hee!”

Well I did not argue with her and we went back to the VP machine I had scoped out.  Thank goodness the mean little old lady was gone.  The cocktail waitress stopped my and said “Oh good… you got some help… another drink… J&B and soda right?”  I answered in the affirmative and the other nice slot booth lady grabbed my card, punched a bunch of buttons and said “There you go Sweetie, remember to hit the cash out button whenever you win something, that way you will know when the free play is over and you are playing with your own money!”

I mumbled “Thangyou, Thangyouverymuch” handed her a finskey and very one was happy.  This free play had already cost me $10 bucks, but I do appreciate good service… not like that prick Pit Boss at The Fremont… yes I can hold a grudge.

Anyway I start with my $80 freeplay ($50 Spirit and $30 with comp.)  Every time I would win anything even a pair I pushed the cash out button and put the TITO in the old coin tray.  My friendly and cute waitress, kept me supplied with J&B and soda’s and the machine was OK too.  No 4OAK’s but plenty of flushes, straights, and full houses.  After a while my free play ran out and I had a fist full of TITO’s collected in the tray.

Now I could have sat there and fed all the TITO’s into the machine and then pushed cash out one final time… but I thought it would be amusing to go to the cashier’s cage and let them do it!  Why?  Because I’m stupid drunk and doing stupid stuff like this amuses me….savvy…. I think not?

So off I stumbled to the cashier’s cage.  Now there is one more amazingly stupid event I have to tell y’all about.  The glasses at The D that they serve J&B and sodas in are exactly the same circumference as a Heineken bottle.  They are shorter though. 

So as I am standing there in front of the less than amused cashier and watching her processing my fist full of TITO’s.  I forgot I was drinking out of a glass.  My drunken mind associated the glass circumference with that of a bottle of Heineken.

My lips were anticipating a tall beer bottle, and my hand just kept tilting the drink back further and further.

So this pissed off cashier just sits there and watches me pour a full glass of J&B and soda down my shirt… I mean ice and all!

My drunken ass did not realize it until the cold drink had dribbled down to my crotch!  This lady went from less than amused to laughing so hard, I thought she was going to puke!

I just picked up my cash without even noticing how much was there and said with a sheepish grin “Guess it’s time to call it a night, Huh?”  She could not even stop laughing long enough to answer… she just kept nodding her head in the affirmative!

I mumbled, “oggie-doggie…”, shoved my cash in my pocket and made a very soggy walk of shame to the elevator and did in fact call it a night.  Wow not even mid-night… I had not even been here 24 hours, and had two… count ‘em, two walks of shame.


  • Had security in my room… check
  • Was a Big-Fat-Lying-Hung-Over-Big-Brown-Turd… check
  • Pissed off more ladies… check
  • Lost my Ass at MSS again… check
  • Saw a Michael Jackson Fight… check
  • Thoroughly embarrassed myself yet once again… check

Up next:

  • Move to MSS
  • I really do go to CES
  • Projectile puking ought to be a sport!
  • Getting drunk with Hillbillies


That's one hell of a first day. I can't wait for day 2! Well, actually, I can, because I already posted it by mistake. And it's pretty good!

Royal Flusher


    1. You are going to get me fired - I'm laughing out loud at work.

      Good work sir !

    2. I think the combination to the safe was the
      numerical equivalent of "SHIT! " LOL
      Love you dumping the drink on yourself. PRICELESS!

    3. don't ya just wanna follow squid around next time???

    4. Noooooo.......I think I'd run the other way. I've seen that "Michael Jackson" fake dude get into it w/ people the las 3 times I was Downtown las yr. I think he's a creep & stay away from him too.He's a panhandler who blows all his $$$..... on VP & booze @ 4 Queens....come to think of it...sooooo do I


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