Day 10 - Part 3
|Tropicana's incredible barrel vault stained glass ceiling.|
Perfectly groomed, new jacket set off by a natty polka dot bowtie, crease on his trousers, shine on his shoes. Good for you, I thought. He was probably meeting someone important to him, someone he wanted to impress.
I know of two ways of impressing a woman. One of them involves taping wads of hundred dollar bills to one's man-atomy. The other less expensive, less painful way, is to present oneself with care, decorum, and savvy panache, just like I do, every where I go.
The elevator reached ground and we exited. Mr. Bowtie veered left toward the men's room. My ever watchful wingman eye spotted something amiss - something that could lead to complete and utter tragedy and date chaos!
Without hesitation, I broke into an exhausting 8 step trot. I had to catch him, before it was too late! I evened up with Mr. Bowtie just at the men's room entrance.
I clapped a hand on his shoulder, and he spun, alarmed. He was probably not used to being accosted by a sweating, winded man in the Men's room, brandishing a business card that said 'Royal Flusher'.
"Excuse me sir, you look great, but you need to know - the vent on your brand new jacket is still stitched closed. We can't have you hitting the town like that, now can we."
"Wow, no, I guess not. What can I do??"
"Well, unless you have a banded stack of hundred dollar bills on you and some duct tape, find a pen knife or scissors. Perhaps the slot club. A careful snip will remedy it. Have a great evening."
"Gosh, thanks Mr..."
"Flusher. Royal Flusher. Don't forget to check the pockets too..." I said with a wink.
I turned and bolted for the nickel machines, because I was topped up to my eyeballs in Bowtie Karma.
You'll note with your squinting eyes that I had 1000 credits on in that last shot. Not too shabby. On the other hand, my $40 buy-in got me 800 credits.
So, I'd put in $40 and cashed out $50. That seemed like a good mentally positive place to break for meat.
Back to the Beach Café I trundled, stopping to grab a photo of the ceiling above the pit on the way. Into the Beach Café I trundled, and right up to the bar I trundled.
"Trundle some prime rib my way, Bartender Sheila, and make it medium rare," I bellowed.
Actually, it went more like this. It was a toss-up between the New York strip, and the P.R.O.B. I asked the Bartender Sheila (Danny) which was better and he said that he had never heard a complaint on the P.R.O.B. and that people were usually pleased with it.
"Done and done," I said. "Prime rib, Bartender Sheila, and make it medium rare!!!!"
You can see the results for yourself and I can confirm that medium rarely has a man had a finer meal than I did that night at the bar.
|P.R.O.B served with avec au jus accompaniment. And a potato the size of a rhino's dick. (I'm told.)|
Back at the nickel play, more boring things happened. I had fun though, and got to play, and play, and play.
One odd thing was that I got a lot of quad deuces (a total of 4 sets), and that my quads very often appeared in the left-most position on the second line (a total of 6 times). Well, see for yourself.
This was one of those rare times where I didn't finish on a win, and I didn't finish on a lose, I just got tired enough to quit and call it a day in Vegas.
If you are ever at a machine that you want to play, that won't take your greasy creased up sticky bill no matter what, here's what you can do about it. First of all, put it out of you mind that it was probably taped to some guy's man-atomy in a previous life. Second, simply insert the bill into the adjacent machine and immediately cash out a ticket. Then, either place that ticket in your desired machine - or get the duct tape.
Day: -$70 Amazingly, I did $1700 coin in on nickel video poker.
Bankroll Left: $375
Up next... The Final Stand at Mandalay Bay