It's a beautiful day here in downtown Las Vegas, about 90 degrees, more sunshine than any one man can roast his skin to a golden brown crisp with, hot and cold running cardboard sign people.
My bankroll for the day is not too healthy, so I thought I'd take a stroll down to the El Cortez and continue my quest to get four Deuces for $500. Or a Royal Flush for 4700 quarters.
So I headed out, and on my way out of the California Hotel and Casino, there is a man struggling with a wheelchair.
He's not in it, he doesn't use it, he's just stuck in the doors with it.
So, being Politeness-pants, I help the guy out, hold one door, then back out holding the other for him. Between the two of us, we manage the task.
All of a sudden it dawns on me. I've been had.
"Hey... just a minute, pally," I say. "You're not stealing wheelchairs are you?"
He said he was just 'returning' it. At least, that was his story.
(And I believe him.)
I saddled up and played through a couple of twenties. I hit a few things, but not the good stuff.
I had three deuces dealt but didn't get it.
On the third twenty, I really settled in and hammered that old machine, slapping her silly, screaming "Give me the Deuces! And NO STARCH IN THE COLLARS!"
A full two hours of butt-clenching quarter action ensued. But I went through all the credits in the machine.
It was time for a break, so I picked up a free slize of 'za I'd won online at Pizza Lotto.
It was acceptable. I folded for half of it.
Sufficiently sliced, I decided to give it one more go and headed back to the machine.
The rest will have to come later, I'm headed down to the Strip to hang out with Funkhouser and cause some mayhem down there.
Be back later!