Some of this material was posted live, but there's tons of new stuff. Really!
Thursday was moving day. I'd be leaving all those hot Ms. Seniors behind at the Tropicana (don't you just want to crawl into one of those make-up caked wrinkles and just snuggle there forever?) and moving on to T.I. aka Treasure Island.
The offer at T.I. was $200 free play and three nights, so how could I stay away? I couldn't. They also throw in early check-in, late check-out, and highway robbery internet charges, as we'll see.
I've been established at T.I. for a couple of years now and have stayed there three or four times. Generally I like the place. It's on the strip, it has some decent VP paytables, and there's 3:2 blackjack. Limits on blackjack and craps are $5 during the day. The restaurant choices are not very good, and of course, they employ "strip pricing". That translates to a $16 two egg with hash browns breakfast at the coffee shop. $2.50 more if you add 'meat'. Meat, in this case, means bacon. Or sausage. I've harped about this before... I guess I'm spoiled from what a bargain the strip was 20 years ago, and what a bargain downtown is, this year.
Coffee $4.50 at the coffee shop? Strip pricing.
But as long as they keep throwing those decent freeplay and room comp offers, I'll hang around.
I've been careful to play up to a certain level in previous visits, but this time, all play was at my pleasure. Winning? I'd keep playing. Enjoying dumb slots and within budget? I'd keep playing. Leaning towards an inter-stellar ass kicking of historic proportions? The taps would be shut off, come what may.
If I keep this up, I will officially no longer be a comp hoor. I think its more fun to say whore so it rhymes with boor, so I vote we spell it that way too. I used to be such a comp hoooor!
So that was the plan, get my stuff together out of the Tropicana at a reasonable hour, and end up at T.I., where I'd do battle with the $200 free play.
I'd had such a stellar first night racking up a gigantico $5 win and then been so disappointed the next day, losing more than I'd hoped, that I forced myself to work on a blog post, skip breakfast, and nibble on the other half of the Trop cookie, and some punishment nuts from home. I splurged on a large Americano (which took 25 minutes to purvey from the clueless baristas in the lobby of the club tower - I've seen glaciers move faster than these lumps).
Punishment Breakfast. Except for the rather good halfa cookie. |
And sadly, none of the people in that line were Ms. Senior USA contestants, the ones that make my heart do a shuffleboard slide.
Now, for some reason, I've spent much of the past few days missing meals, and generally starving. And by the time I was done writing, and got packed up, showered, shaved, etc. I was starving again. But I didn't want to get bogged down at the Trop, and why not get off the strip in the car away from "strip pricing"?
The plan was I'd hit a place for breakfast (probably some sort of 'breakfast' place), get some much needed supplies at Walmart, maybe hit the Pinball Hall of Flame, which was prominently on my todo list for this trip, and move to T.I.
I checked my account on the TV thingy and everything was as it should be. I suppose I could have tried to get some food charges taken off but $43 for two nights at the Trop including meals and punishment nuts was just fine with me. Because I'm no longer a COMP HOOR, regardless of what the Trop thinks.
I bet there's nobody working at the slot club. I bet they closed 2 minutes early. Fuckers. |
I turned right on the strip, heading north, and right again at Tropicana, heading east. Any second now, the perfect breakfast place would show up.
Dick-Scabular looking, well, regal I guess. Is that some discharge coming out of the long tall tower? |
There were all kinds of things I needed from Walmart including some high grade punishment foodal items like packaged cheese hunks, turkey peckeroni sticks, Triscuits, a utility knife for cutting American Casino Guide coupons, and of course, a bottle of utility bourbon (Evan Williams, $9 the bottle).
I'd grab those things real quick, and get out to a real breakfast place. But this is WalMart.
After an hour of searching out stuff I was ready to drop.
And this is where it got really degenerate. I bought a $5 ready-made sub and loaded up on mayo and mustard packets.
In a town with 10,000 restaurants, I ate my first "meal" of the day sitting in the VW Asshat in the Walmart parking lot.
I didn't care. I wolfed it down, and it tasted great. I'd grabbed a couple of space-age packets of mustard and mayo - the kind that the packets are made of the same stuff space suits are made of. They are next to impossible to open, and when they do, the contents fly, and not onto your sandwich.
I managed to consume the condiments without making too much of a mess, and my shirt was space-age clean.
I happened to be right by the Pinball Hall of Flame and spent some wonderful time in there, bangin' those pleasure machines, and chasin' the factory girls underneath the boardwalk.
I took a bunch of great pictures and will put the pictorial up on RF World 'real soon now'. Probably tomorrow. Or Saturday. But we are getting a load of dirt delivered tomorrow, so I have some heavy lifting ahead of me.
I went out today to the Flusherville Gardens in search of Pete Moss, gravel, and tri-mix soil. I almost bought a pinball machine. They have a few antiques in the place and this lone pinball machine. The guy says I can have it for $600 (CAD) if his kids will let it go - they love to play it. Wouldn't it have been cool if I went home having purchased a pinball machine and forgotten all about the Quad Queen's garden stuff?
Well wouldn't it?
Yes it hella would!
CTUG chips? Am I in heaven? I snagged a bag to frag in my room. |
Check-in at T.I. was an absolute breeze. I've had a run of corner rooms at T.I. and got one again. They are great because they have windows on two walls. This time I'm facing north and west.
And then on to the free play battle of the Tight'uns!!!!
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