Royal Flusher Dollar Jacks Expeditionary Force

"Don't take a marker."       "Don't listen to him! Take a BIG MARKER!"

The Downtown Grand awards slot tournament entries and I’ve been playing those like crazy. I had a couple on my account and started the day honing my two handed screen tapping technique - whilst spinning the reels, you also have to shoot little point-bearing duckies that appear across the top of the screen.

Do you honestly think I could win one of these by having the highest score of the day?

I actually managed to get on the board once - eighth place for a time, a measly 10,000 points short of the leader, who had 49,000 and change.

I replenished the Flusher coffers by taking the long, long walk of shame to Main Street Station.

I was really saddened to see the reckless abandon with which living palm trees outside the Vegas Club had been scythed down in the name of... new sidewalks or something? It reminded me of my scythed-down gambling self esteem.

At Main Street Station, I took a marker for $1000. I even played a bit, without my card of course. On the walk back to the Grand I scoured my memory to see what free play I might have that I could use. I scoured deep into every synapse, examining every bit of memorized useful info that I possess. This took about 12 seconds.

I played at the Grand quite a bit, and then headed to the Four Queens for day three of the Royal Flusher Dollar Jacks Expeditionary Force - also known those with ‘street cred’ as the Cavalcade of Disappointment. Breakfast at Magnolia’s again, of course. Reliable and always delish.

Well, I did manage to hit my day three goal, but it cost me. I had three quads and lost $500.

Of course its fucking Aces kicker on Jacks. Of course it is.

Of course its fucking sevens with 10 kicker on Jacks. Of course... oh nevermind. That makes no sense at all.

My favorite street entertainer on Fremont. Steel Drum player.

Forty bucks disappeared at the El Cortez, and then I hit Le Thai for lunch, one of the more successful endeavors of the day.

Back at the Grand, I noticed the Double Double progressive was at $785 for Aces Kicker and $1179 for the Royal, so I chased that for a while.

This was my last full day in Vegas, and it was ending with a whimper. I reflected on the events of the trip and took an inventory of how much I had enjoyed it and how much had been gambling torment. Right now, the good was outweighing the bad, but I was pretty spooked at what was shaping up to be my second worst trip ever - and the fact that the two worst trips were both in the last three trips.

I felt like I’d lost savvy and reverted to degenerate.

I also reflected that this whole time I hadn’t really played blackjack or craps. What the hell???!!! Those games often provided wins which subsidized my video poker losses. Maybe this is the key for next time.

Upshot - I lost $100 at craps, roulette, and blackjack.

TIme to regroup. I had some business with Air Fuckyou Canada, changing my meal preference. And I had to check in online and all that crap.

After the break, I went at it a little more with a bit of success - the goal now was to see if I could just manage to enjoy myself. When Vegas is over, it’s over and it was my last day.

For dinner I thought I’d get a keno ticket and order the best steak Magnolia’s serves.

Breakneck Keno Action at the Four Queens Keno lounge.

For some reason, the server, who I didn’t recognize, seemed to think it would be a good idea for me to have something else. He kept pushing this prime rib thing saying how good it was and that it was much more to eat for less money than the steak.

I flashed the VIP passport at him - the price didn’t matter.  I think he was honestly trying to do me a favor but I wasn't in any mood to do anything but be easygoing and say 'sure, whatever'.

I gave in, and ended up screwing up my last dinner in Vegas.

I ended up with the most incredible, sickening, Fred Flintstone, Old 96’er slab of prime rib… an amount of meat that nobody should ever eat at one go - because it was bigger than my head.

Don't get me wrong, it was delicious - for the first 73 bites, but good God, who thought a slab of animal the size of a truck tire was a smart thing to consume, unless you are a Neanderthal?

Table for Stupid? Right this way sir.

I did my best and resigned myself to the fact that I’d ordered it - and nobody else. Live and learn.

One moment of weakness around self-esteem and degeneracy and I end up with the Woolly Mammoth cut.

My keno numbers lost of course, and back at the Grand, the Aces had been hit. I even came across the machine that they hit on. I was going to play it.

And then I didn’t. I just went up to my room and watched Ramsay yell at people.

I’d gone through most of my marker and was now in preservation mode again, needing to keep some cash on hand for the trip home.

Royal Flusher: Day $-900 Trip $-4610