I'm Number Thirty Seven

Tuesday - Day 4 - continued

Those Aloha meal books that Boyd provides have one 'specialty coupon' in the back that is good for a prime rib special. At Tony Roma's in the Fremont, it comes with a celebrity paging as well, as your number is broadcast throughout the casino, making you feel like the bigshot you aren't.

When it's your time, you can stroll up to the hostess at Tony Roma's, pushing through the crowd with confidence, your chest huffed out, and announce loudly, "I'M...", adding a pause, and a snappy but subtle smart ass left-to-right shake of the head, "... number thirty seven..." as though you had just revealed yourself to be a super hero in bright yellow balls-bulging yoga pants and a foofoo cape.

Getting back to the point - when I don't have a Gold card an am using meal books, I never seem to get around to using my specialty coupon. So it's going to go to battle right out of the gate on the first day. I get a table and order the prime rib.

My patented Gambler's Salad. It's also called, err, salad. Ok, and it's not patented.

Paper service cups are always so refined and classy!

I don't know whether I'm gonna hurl or order a second one. So bad it's good!

A superior view Single Lonely Diner table.

After dinner, I walk by a towering machine and I think, if Buffalo is a losing game, then four Buffalo's at a time have to be four times better! On the first pull I get a bunch of buffalos, and on the second pull I get a bonus round. It's a bit novel, but I can see how this machine could eat you alive.

With a savvy press of the button, I cash out at $20 - a $10 profit.

There are supposed to be a few additional 9/6 Jacks machines at the Cal that I don't know the whereabouts of, so I hunt around and sure enough, I find one. This special little machine is also in a lonely spot, and it has green glass on it, which is pretty unusual.

This has to be a lucky machine and I immediately set to work thinking of the perfect name for it.

For some reason, $20 on Jacks just disappears. I almost play through the whole twenty before getting anything at all, which is quite unusual. This calls for more money, so another $20 goes in and the same thing happens. The thought whirling in my brain, besides what should I call this machine, is 'what the fuck?'.

When it's all over and I'm about to move on, I think of it.

"I'll call you... Greenie," I tell it, soothingly. Then I talk to it some more. "Fuck off and stay fucked off, Greenie."

I play another machine in Greenie's row and hey, it has 9/6 Jacks on it as well. I hope Greenie is green with envy.

It goes better, but there's nothing to report.

The next thing to try is the triple play deuces, and it shows me no love. I am getting nervous having had a string of strike-outs. It has the making of one of those bad evenings when nothing works. I can't seem to find a win.

One thing I do find is what has to be one of the best Ultimate Strict Rules of Parlay machines ever. It starts at nickels and goes all the way up to $5. Seven levels. Someday I will parlay through the whole cycle. But not today.

The Ultimate Strict Rules of Parlay Machine

Like a good boy, I play nickels again - NSUD - trying to parlay. It's a great machine and I'm bored stupid. It's really hard to enjoy nickels. After, switching to something with higher volatility and larger potential wins, I get a nickel quad. Four Queens. Gawking at me. All of them looking like clones of Laura Dern. I wonder if the Queens are wearing blue velvet.

Anyway, it's something I can parlay, so parlay I do. The machine I'm on is no longer to my liking, so I move to the machine next to it which has full pay Jacks. Sevens come in and I think that perhaps I'm on my way now, and parlay up to 50 cents. Now I'm feeling a little tingly-wingly. What's gonna happen?!

It goes terribly and I have that sick feeling as I play my five credits - but I Lazarus and get to play another last hand. I build up a bit of a reserve and hang on long enough to hit a nice one - deuces. It's Bonus Poker now, and of course I get the Ace kicker which does me no good whatsoever. It's part of it, and the trick is to let it rankle as little as possible. I'm happy with the win, or so I tell myself.

In a rare fit of intelligence, I cash out the big ticket, and put another $20 in to see if 50 cent Bonus will give me some more wins. No it will not, but I save myself from playing the $100 into the ground. I'm full of beef, tired, and it's getting on - time to call it and head upstairs.

And then I see the Keno lounge.

I set up a grouped ticket with a bunch of different ways on the same numbers, and head upstairs to relax a bit.

Looking for the latest on the Little Giant shipment, I see good news!


On one game I am shrieking at the TV because I've got four out of the six numbers. Two more and I hit it good and solid. Even one more would be significant, four or five hundred bucks. But that's as close as I get.

Still, I'm as shocked as if I'd found a severed ear while casually walking along the hallway.

I nip down to cash the ticket and get another one, this time even more complex. While the numbers are coming up...

...I close my eyes - then I drift away
Into the magic night I softly say
A silent prayer like dreamers do
Then I fall asleep to dream my dreams of you

And another day in Vegas is done.

Video poker: -$140
Blackjack: +$50
Keno: +$30
Day: -$60
Trip: -$340