I can be like an emotional windsock at times, letting my experiences and surroundings dictate if I'm having a good time or not.
But I believe in the idea of 'If you want to be happy, then be happy'. Choose it.
I've thought about this evening a lot, for a number of reasons. One, I could have made different choices, and I'm responsible for how it went. Two, I could have chosen differently how I felt about how it went. Three, I don't want you all to think I'm a dick. Four, I am a dick, and in this blog I tell the truth even when its painful, even when it's ugly.
What the fuck is he going on about? Well, let's get started.
Thing One
We went up to the Binion's slot club booth to see what was up with her card. It registered 68 points, enough for two spins, two chances at match plays and up to $50 cash (and well drinks), but she could get naught.
So, it turns out that Binions wiped out everybody's account about a year and some ago. (Remember when you had to get a new card because yours didn't work? I do.) The Quad Queen's old account was shut off.
On the new account that they gave her, and didn't tell her about, there was no play showing. We got into quite an argument about it all, and the manager got involved. Her account is inactive. Why is it building up points and has $6.00 in comps? Her new account shows no play. Her card says "Guest" when you insert it. How was she to notice that? You should have invalided all the cards that you gave new accounts to. On and on. Give her two spins on the Motherload. There's nothing in the system on her account. I can't.
(Why wasn't the Quad Queen speaking for herself? She left, possibly in embarrassment, to watch from a safe distance.)
I know when I'm beat but I was pissed. Maybe more than was warranted. Finally, I said, "Look, you're obviously not going to budge on this. If you can't, you can't. Can you give her something different instead?"
"What do you want?"
"Well, what can you offer?"
Finally, maybe I was getting somewhere.
"A deck of cards."
Time stopped. I was surrounded by white hot light. My face flushed and adrenalin shook my limbs. My mouth tasted of metal and my eyes went wide - so as to better see the prey.
I went all Joe Pesci on the guy. Remember the scene where Pesci spins any card he doesn't like at the dealer? And tells him to 'take this stiff and shove it up your ass'?
Yeah, I was oh so proud of myself for the quarter second it took for me to tell the guy to go fuck himself, and spin the useless slot card into his little chest. Bam.
So we left, and of course, I was steamed. For all the seconds after that first quarter second, and all the minutes and hours and days, I know I was a dick, that I lost it, that it wasn't worth it, and that I regretted it.
The only thing that made it bearable was the fact that we'd netted $80 for the visit. Heh heh.
So here's the beginning of 'it's your last night, choose to be happy'. No, I vented for an hour after that.
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| So fitting. So Vegas. |
And it worked, great food and service, and it was behind me. I had the always amazing pineapple shrimp, hot, sweet deep-fried, crunchy perfection with perfectly sized blazes of jalapeno to add the zing. Mains - crab legs for me, rib eye steak for QQ. And creamed spinach. And mashed potato.
...and then the holy of holies - dealt four Pointies! Not many multipliers but an 8x and a 12x.
Boom! Ten sets of Pointies. Too bad she wasn't playing Double Double Bonus instead of Bonus Deluxe. (And in retrospect, at the time, we thought it was Double Double. I blame the cocktail waitress.)
That would have been real money. Aces kicker is 2000 credits, or $20 on pennies. 12x that is $240. Not too shabby.
She wonned 11,600 pennies. That's $116. It sounds like a lot more when it's pennies.
In part 2, I'll explain Thing 2 and Thing 3. And a bit more.
Flusher,
ReplyDeleteWhile I can totally understand why you feel badly about telling the slot club guy off, sometimes (very few times) it's justified, even if you feel stupid about it later (gotta be harder on you, since you're Canadian and being impolite is against Canadian law!).
Like you, I find it very hard to get truly angry and generally don't feel good about it later. But I still want to go back to the campground in Oregon and tell the lady supervisor to go fuck herself, and it's a year and a half later. Sure I would have hated myself briefly thereafter, but I've pretty much regretted not doing it ever since. We pulled a rented camper into the spot (national forest campground)facing the ocean. We had a nice view. She showed up and demanded we turn it around, saying we had to back in. I went to the campground rules board. There were 26 rules, none of which were that all vehicles had to be backed in to the sites. When pressed, she said people pull in as I did so they could have a view of the ocean, and you can't do that. Made no sense. None at all. Isn't that why people are there? But my wife was getting embarrassed and it had been a nice trip, soon coming to an end. I knew a confrontation would spoil things for her. I caved. I still regret it. I want to go back, pull in, hope she's still there, and tell her to go fuck herself when she tells me to turn around!
So, be proud of yourself. You did the right thing. The guy was an ass, their card changeover was a mess, and it wouldn't really have cost them anything to make proper amends. Even if the guy was just the messenger, someone had to hear the message.
That's it. I'm headed to Oregon. I know just how to handle this!
Deletemarksind,
ReplyDeleteYou should have told her that you had polished off a six pack since you had arrived, and it would be illegal for you to get behind the wheel. "Whadd'ya think of them apples, beotch?!" (followed by a fake hiccup).