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Sunday, May 6, 2018

Quady McQuadface

Sunday - Day 16 - continued

Walk of shame. There I said it. Second time this trip, too. But I'm loaded up with $500 and ready to see what I can do. And I'm cheered up a bit, because Dr. Raoul Shiboubou is flying in to Vegas late in the day. It'll be great to see him. It's kind of weird, I missed Gambletron (his father) and Mrs. Gambletron by 30 minutes on the way in. And my original flight out had me missing Dr. Raoul by day. Raoul is in Vegas a lot these days - the Emperor Penguin Jerky has proved extremely popular, especially the Cajun Flipper variety.

I check out my folio on the TV and my host was good to her word - the Redwood charge is long gone.


I start the day with breakfast. They give me the Single Lonely Diner table with the kitchen view. I don't complain.


I have a long session of blackjack, sitting at end of the table, at third base. After an hour or so I'm up $75 and have to change seats. I signal the pit boss and let him know I've moved.

"I've already got ya," he says.

Then it comes to me. The idea that will bring me riches.

"To make it easier to track players," I tell the pit boss, "I'm working on some ass recognition software.

He's not as impressed as I hope Jimmy Poon will be - he needs to get down to business on this right away, before the market bottoms out.

I play for a total of an hour and a half and color about half my buy-in. I decide to go and play some Bonus Poker triple play Slutty Times Pay over at Fremont. On the way, I see a fat progressive (yet another!) on quarter double double bonus, and lose $60 chasing it.


Over at Fremont, I get on a great quad run, a regular Quady McQaudface!


I also cash out no profit. Spotty McTrackmarks!

There's a quad... no multiplier though.

There's another quad... no multiplier though

There's a quad! With multiplier! The lowest one there is.

Ten Times multiplier!!! Lowest possible winning hand, one pair. Fuck my life.

There's a quad... no multiplier though

One more quad with multiplier... the lowest one possible.
If those multipliers had just shown up at the right times... I could have saved this trip. As it was, in spite of being up $100 at one point, I blow through it all trying to hit that home run. Instead, I lost $60, play for an hour and a half, and go through $1800 coin in.

Treasure Chest is mean to me.


Of course, I don't get the Royal.

Even Pick 'em with Double Up has it in for me.


I eat a light lunch... somewhere in there. Maybe some Chinese at Fremont? Let's say that.

Back at the Cal, I notice that I've broken the entire bank of progressive machines.


And it's time to go and see my host, before settling into some crazy pants-down Keno lounge action. She gets her special envelope from me, which has the special greeting in it, which says "Host I love you this much!!!" and has a cartoon dog with it's paws really wide.

She asks me what I am thinking for dinner, and I walk away with a $50 comp to the Noodle House, which I haven't tried in a while. This one's on paper, so I know it's good.

Now it's time for drinklegambling. I get a big-ass keno ticket, and play video poker at the bar, while watching the keno board off to the side. A couple of showgirl characters from Fremont sit next to me, which is kind of cool, notwithstanding the fact that they ignore me and sneer at me from time to time. I think it's because the keno board is on the wall right at the end of the bar, and they think that I'm staring down their feathers.

Double double gives me some play, which is nice of it.


And the drinks are flowing good, and when $60 or $80 of bartop money runs out, I head to the keno lounge for the last of my games.

This is where losing gamblers go to die. Come back soon, I'll prove it to you.


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