Let's start quickly. Awaken. Angry after last night.Little Giant. Pilfered supplies. Grommet Con. Boss. And with that, I am back at the Tropicana, hoping that today things will work better.
There's some blogging to be done and then I'm over to Hooters for lunch, and some LVA coupon stuff. This doesn't really bear much fruit, but it does bear a pretty darn good buffalo chicken sandwich.
I walk back to the Trop, ready to get it on. I have my little bit of freeplay for the day - $15 - and I decide to see how far that will take me.
I play some multiplay and, well, it takes me pretty far. I hit three quads in ten minutes. And this time, I actually cash out the profits.
I head up to the room to regroup, and get ready to go on walkabout. On my way back down, I hit the casino again and there it is... that machine. The one that hated me yesterday and liked me today.
What the hey. I stuff a $20 in it and I'm fairly shocked when I hit another all-the-same beauty. I play for a little while longer, and cash out $50 and get my ass out of there. It feels like luck is everywhere, but it really isn't.
Note: Just about every day since this trip I've struggled with how I am going to write about the last part of the trip. I don't share much personal information, but I have decided it is pertinent to the trip. This blog is a place of fun, of silliness, it's apolitical, a place to escape, for all of us, you and me both. I don't want to dwell on maudlin things, and I don't want to turn this stuff into entertainment. But, as you know, sometimes I do get serious in the blog - and I write it the way it happens, and this is part of it. I hope I get it right for all concerned.
Back home, a family member, and a good friend of mine, has not been doing well. Not at all. Every day, I wonder if this will be the day. I almost canceled Vegas, but the Quad Queen said, no, go - I try to enjoy myself as much as I can, but the anvil is always hanging just above.
So this has been on my mind... I check my phone and I see I have received a text from a very good friend of mine. I read about a quarter of a screen of it and see "stage 3 cancer". This horrible news comes out of the blue, completely unexpected, and the casino spins, my heart pounds, my ears ring. I put the phone away - I can't do this right now. I feel like a coward, but I just - can't.
And I start walking. The plan was Cosmo, so that's where I go, putting one foot in front of the other.
I haven't actually spent a whole lot of time here, so I walk the casino and check it out, and make my way back to the chandelier bar. I sit and the bartender explains the ticket system to me. She comps me the first one, and after that, I'll need tickets.
Lots of tickets.
The bartender is busty - extremely busty - and showing a lot of cleavage. So, I enjoy that, but more to the point, there is another bartender who is breaking in, and at one point the talk behind the bar is about how many buttons she will have to undo. I'm glad I don't have to undo buttons in my workplace!
Maker's Ahoy. |
I can't put it off any longer, so I get my phone out and read the text from my friend. It's a lot to take in, and I am just so sad and shocked by it.
I play on, and there are many times when I have to take a breather, sometimes hide my face. Being at this bar, with people around, and people behind the bar kind of looking at me funny - ultimately its a good thing because it helps me keep it together.
Pointies, and 69 points, dude. |
And that's what I do. I switch to Triple Double Bonus and I'm dealt that hand again, that three Aces with kicker and you have to hold the kicker because one more Ace and it's $1000.
But I fan, and get a stupid seven.
By the time I am finally out of credits, I have a belly full of Makers, a fistfull of drink tickets (which have been flying out of the machine like confetti) and a bladder the size of the Paris balloon sign.
I signal the bartender to get a plastic cup, telling her I don't want to walk off with her glassware. I'm not sure why I cared, but it seemed considerate at the time. I also try to sneak the remainder of my tickets to a guy on my left, but he thinks I'm trying to sell him something. The guy on my right is turned away from me, yammering at his girl. They are not serious players, they are here for the bar. I toss the coupons down anyway, maybe he'll notice and use them.
Off I go to take care of Paris, and when that's done, I stop at an empty kiosk to message my friend back. That done, I go to pick up my beautiful traveller and dump it all over the marble countertop.
Sadness. |
I play some pennies, I play some quarters, just kind of going through the motions.
I do manage to get a two sets of deuces on two hundred play pennies, but I'm damned if I can actually find them. Looking at the photo, I wonder where the other hundred hands went.
Vicki Dougan who "discovered a new cleavage". |
I like the hallway to secret pizza, jammed full of album covers, many of which I know, or even own. And lots I've never heard of before.
Meathead had an album. Who knew. |
Making my way back to Tropicana, I get almost to Aria and remember I haven't cashed in my ticket from the Deuces yet. I shlep all the way back, cash the ticket, and wobble back to my room.
Video Poker: -$95
Trip: -$195
My friend B is fighting hard. She has the most amazing attitude, it's quite inspiring. She's been through some tough treatments in a couple of cities, and she's kicking ass and staying positive. So far, the results are great - the tumors are shrinking and her prognosis is improving.
Very sorry to hear about your friend.
ReplyDeleteA 'tip' for next time you find yourself with extra tickets at a Cosmo bar....you can use them for larger size Fiji water to take back to room...just sayin...Annie
Mr. Flusher, I will keep your friend B in my thoughts. If it helps at all, my dad was diagnosed with Stage 3 cancer two and a half years ago, and he's still getting along. I hope B has an even better outcome.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing the personal details. I (and I'm sure others) feel sort of like I know you, even though I've never had the pleasure of meeting you. It's always good to reinforce that you're a real human with all the normal human trials and tribulations, and not just a source of self-deprecating entertainment for your readers.
Wishing you and B well,
MP
Flusher...crossing my fingers that your friend’s treatments continue to go well. Wish you had had someone with you when you got the news. A big hug would have been just the ticket....along with the drink tickets of course.
ReplyDelete