Wednesday, September 12, 2018

The Human Parade

Day 7 - Friday

When you are surfing the comped room offers on a trip, you have to get used to moving a lot. I try not to unpack too much stuff, to make the pre-move chores a little easier.

Today is another moving day and it's back downtown to the California, the third stop on the Plaza-Tropicana-Cal-Tropicana gambling choo choo train.

I get a message from the Quad Queen about the Plaza - there are some charges on my credit card:

On May 19 193.80 US
On May 23 176.66 US
On May 23 53.03 US
I don't see any credits from them

Oh great. Looks like a snafu to sort out. That's when I remember something weird that the deskling told me when I checked in. She mentioned that my your stay was booked on two different reservations, but I wouldn't have to change rooms.

That's when I get a nasty feeling in my gut (not the same blowout nasty feeling, a worry nasty feeling). The second reservation would be for the comped third night. The first reservation for the first two paid nights that I was under the impression had been comped on the back end. But when the checkout Sheila told me there was no charge - she was only looking at the second reservation for the comped night.

I realize that maybe nothing additional had been picked up, because it looked like there were a couple of nights plus resort fees, and the $53.03 would be food I charged to the room perhaps.

I decide to give it a day and see if any charges got reversed. I can go and see my host when I'm downtown if needs must.

It's always, always best to take care of these kinds of things while you are in town. There's nothing like a face-to-face meeting to get things done. But once you are gone, somehow, you drift off in the wind like a tiny piece of Electric Daisy Carnival boob glitter - once sparkly, now just a distant forgotten mammary memory.

Last night I slept very well and the Flushie bod feels mighty fiddle.

This calls for Vegas Breakfast.

Flusher's Moving Day Vegas Breakfast
- two (2) cups of Little Giant in-room coffee, complete with stolen gas station creamers
- one (1) good tot of vodka in each cup of coffee
- one half (1/2) bag of potato crisps

Vegas Breakfast

There's no way I'm giving the Tropicana any more play this stay, so I do a couple of hours of interneting until check-out time. I pack up most of my gear and check for the WAX times and I'm pleased and somewhat shocked that there is a bus due in perfect time for me to finish packing, stroll to the bus stop in a leisurely fashion, and take a few nature photographs, after which the bus will appear like a long, noisy limousine.

Two Dollar Luxury!

The only issue with this plan is that I have but one single dollar bill in my possession. One.


On my way out of the Trop, I do the walk of shame and withdraw $500. Then I go to the cage to get some singles, and I'm on my way.


The RTC app is awesome for tracking just where your bus is. And when it said it was just beyond the intersection of the Strip and Tropicana, I took a look and yup, there it was, right on time too.

It's a pretty good experience getting out of the Trop and downtown - much better than the last time I did this trip after getting devastating news from home. I get off just south of Walgreen's and make my way down Fremont, under the canopy, which is starting to come alive with tourists, and hustlers. The human parade is beginning again.

I round the corner at Binions, and marvel again at the fact that the Las Vegas Club is completely and totally eradicated. Another minute and I'm pulling open the doors on the corner of the California, those big heavy glass doors that separate me from my version of Vegas heaven.

Might as well try it - so I hit the Front Desk immediately and by gum they have a room for me. Check in isn't for another four hours, but I've got my keys and meal books and I'm headed for the cluster-elevator that is happening at the Cal while the escalators are gone.


Where escalators once were, and are rumored to be again in the future.
My room is in the West tower, fairly high up, but right near the end of the hallway - one off the end, actually. This is good, because it's as far away from the noisy (and sometimes smelly) kitchen vents as you can get, and it's beyond the edge of the East tower, somewhat - which improves the view to the northeast. I have no complaints.

Happily ensconsed, I'm ready to hit the casino and see what I can do with my freeplay. I have a quick visit with my host and get the free play activated, and then it's hit the machines. I do okay, turning $30 free play into $35 casheroo.

$35 casheroo.
This seems like a good little stake to get started on $5 blackjack.

It's not. It's gone in about 7 minutes and 19 seconds. So much for parlaying my freeplay into a fortune.

Next stop, breakfast at the Market Street Cafe. It's predictable and great. I don't order coffee though. This saves me about 35 cents in what I would have had to add to the tip. At the same time I am proud of myself and dismayed at myself. I throw an extra buck on the table.

The Triple Play Royal progressives are not bad.
I play some at the Cal, reacquainting myself with Pinchy, Flashy, and my favorite triple play triple progressive Deuces game.

The next three to four hours are spent at the Boar's Head Bar, mostly losing money, hanging out with a few blog readers, and consuming a ton of Maker's - no problem getting it. I'm still not sure of whether the crackdown on pouring premium booze is in effect or not.

I do manage to hit a few things toward the end, such as these four Queens, not three minutes after I switched from Jacks to Double Double.


Four to a Royal eludes me once again.


The fellow on my right is called McGoo. He has been the proud owner of an official Royal Flusher Savvy Degenerate Business Card for some time now, and puts it to good use. He covers the credit meter with it as a good luck / stress reduction technique.

It seems to work, because he does much better than I, hitting Pointies while I look on. McGoo has read the entire blog. Twice. I bow to such savvy behavior and note that, clearly, he has learned what he needed from it in order to be able to hit Pointies. (I wish I could!)


I head back to my room to regroup - I have dinner plans!

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