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Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Up on Cripple Creek

Day 7 - Friday Oct 27 - part 2

As mentioned I enjoyed a long, hot shower, fully employing the first level of shower utility and decadence, and managed not to get any shaving goo in to my double Maker's Mark rocks. A triumph.

We kicked back a while longer, and I pumped out a live blog post to satiate the Flushies around the world, watching, waiting with their eyes, their rabid reading eyes, always demanding more, more, MORE - or - ELSE. If those rabid eyeballs could speak, they'd bite you.

And we decided to eat at Magnolia's again. I had a hankerin' for another disc.
Doesn't get much better than this downtown.

On the way through the Nugget, we checked out the Deuces Wild progressive. It was shit. We played it anyway. We lost. It was fun. And then on to the Four Queens.

You see the most interesting people, if you just look above the neckline, in my case. For example, this inexplicable woman wearing this mysterious diminuative chapeau.
And then there's the 'look at me' fashionista set, like this dandy, promenading up and down the stairs to the restaurant.
We sized him up, all right.
So, for dinner, the Lettuce Lady had some sort of wonderful salad with all kinds of prizes in it, including about a quarter pound of blue cheese. And I had a pizza that was totally droolworthy. Robbie Robertson penned Up on Cripple Creek, and Levon sang it with his touch of hillbilly, ton of southern cool voice - and the line "a drunkard's dream if I ever did see one" refers directly and specifically to this pizza pie I ate for dinner.
Odds were in my favor, I had her five to one.
Was it as good as it looks? Better. Much better than the flat pixelated fingerprint covered screen-pizza you see before you. I got to enjoy the real 3D piping hot cheese lovin' crunchy soft crusted expression of the power of perfect circular foods.

I have to admit, I sampled a little lump of blue cheese from the salad across the table. Then another. And then some more.

"Don't let me have any more!" I pleaded. The gold of blue moulds is fantastic, even if it looks like something I lost 7 months ago under the sink, but it does tend to kick off a migraine if I eat too much of it. I used to get a lot of migraines, but its only a couple a year now, once I figured out what the trigger was. You know what it was? Oranges. Fucking oranges, which I loved sooo much, were causing my 3-4 migraines a week. No more oranges, no more cafergot. (Actually, I use rizatriptan aka Maxalt, it is the shit. Pop one of those, take it easy for an hour, and the migraine is snuffed and I'm back to drinking and eating bits of blue cheese of the table.)

After dinner we had a bash at Double Double at the bar near Fremont, but the machines were dead and just sucking our dough.

Since I had a stake at the Downtown Grand - five bucks in freeplay - we headed there. The Grand was pretty busy - actually, the tables were busier than I've ever seen them. Like ever. I think they are slowly building some business. And they are really embracing live music, which is a welcome trend.

The Downtown Grand

Rocking the casino, and emptying the dance floor - put your hands together for the... GREAT... ZIPPEROOOOOO!!!
Great stool technique!
I wanted to eyeball the new eatery that replaced the older eatery that replaced the even older eatery - Freedom Beat.

I dearly want to make some gutter-humor sophomoric joke out of the name American Beat but I just can't think of one.

The place looks pretty cool, and one day I'll have to actually consume food there and check out some live music.

Chiropractors recommend the stage be put to the right of these tables.
Having done our walkabout, we sat down at a machine.

I slid my Downtown Grand card in and punched up the freeplay. It was there, indeed, and I transferred it to the machine.

"FIVE... dollars this time, Clark?" said the ever-timely Snarky Queen.

Well guess what, I parlayed that hot microchipped bitch up to 50 cents, hit a square, and cashed out sixty of the Downtown Grand's American currency dollars. The Lucky Lady hit one too, but it wasn't photographed.

We headed home, as in The Golden Nugget. QQ went off to play some carny bad paytable nickel game or other. I found some other 7/5 Shit Poker machines to try. I wanted to be able to hear the band, and see people walking around, take in the nightlife. These are the things I remember when I'm home.

Some young feller who was too cool for school sat down and punched up some gimmicky keno game or other. Candy Floss Keno or Nancing Actor Keno or something. It's always sort of out of place when some macho hip young dude plays, like, Kitty Glitter or something. Cringeworthy.

Well, we got to talking, and he told me about some of his keno exploits.

"Once, I hit 7 out of 7," he said.


"This other time? I hit 8 out of 8."


"Yeah. I hit that twice that year."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. It was great."

But I remembered those guys plunking down next to me and pulling hundreds of dollars out of the machine after 2 minutes of keno.

What the hell did I have to lose? I actually wanted to use this time to not have to play hand after hand of mind-numbing draw poker. I wanted to sip (okay gulp) many drinks, put my feet up sideways on the chair next door, look around at all the idiots, and just enjoy Vegas for a while, without having to think about anything.

I thought four card keno looked interesting. It took me a while to figure out how to set the hands, but I did. I set up cards where on one I had five numbers, and another, the same five numbers plus one more - it's so much easier to hit 5 of 5 (even though it isn't easy at all - a one in 1550 shot) and that much more ridiculously a long shot to hit 6 of 6 (one in 7,752) - but just in case it came in, I didn't want to say, oh shit, I should have.

After a while I scrapped that and made faces.

Then I scrapped that and played Favorite Server Judy's number, and other ones that were mostly easy to follow.

With four games going, a quarter a game, I listened to the repeated brain-damaging ding ding ding each time a number was drawn, and then! pushing the button to start again. What fun!!!!

Guess what? I enjoyed it. Kitty Glitter is in my future.

But guess what else???

I fucking won.

I won.

I won at keno.

I got 5 out of 5 at fucking keno.

I proved once and for all that keno is not rigged - because I fucking won.

"Hey, you hit it! Nice!!" said the keno stud next to me. He was probably already fixing to try to take my girl.

"She's married, jerk," I said.

Astoundingly, absolutely unprecedently...

...five minutes later I hit it again. (Clumping.)

The first time I had ever played video keno for any real length of time... I ended up a winner. After all the video poker, after all the training and paytables - blind dog keno saves the day.

RF: Day +$120 Trip -$3180 
QQ: Day -$380 Trip -$140
Combined -$3320

Sadly, the Quad Queen was in the minus column. But... I HAD A WINNING DAY! And a Cripple Creek pizza.

    1 comment:

    1. Keno has the very worst odds and this is why I cannot stop playing it, despite that. All it takes is one win and you are forever an addict.


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