Thursday, December 27, 2018

A Buffalo Built for Two

After lunch at the Orleans, I spotted a Buffalo Built for Two. It's pretty sexy to share a Buffalo, so we lit some incense and draped a scarf over the lamp and got pushing!

Buttons.

Twenty bucks went by in a flash, so I replenished and Mrs. F kicked off a bonus round with something I haven't seen before - five coins.

Well, this bonus round was a beauty and I'll let the pics do the testifying.









Now that's more like it!

We swabbed down the comfort chair and cashed out the ticket, splitting the winnings. She'd pressed the button for the bonus round, but I'd put up the dough.


We had enough points to enter the Wynn daily slot tournament, so we headed back and got signed up.

To our surprise, the tournament qualification came with two buffet passes each! The Red Club boothling said it 'boofay', which I thought was weird. I say 'buffay', and since I am always right, that's how buffet is said.

Dinner was solved - we'd have boofay.

I played some loser Keno for a while, and had a drink, while waiting for the tourney. Mrs. Flusher played some sort of horrid short pay VP or other.




The tournament is held in the Encore casino and is wonderfully short - just three minutes of mindlessly pounding the buttons as fast as possible. Some slot tournament rounds are twenty minutes!





There are free play prizes for the round, and for the tournament. We got our machines, did the needful pounding, and goddamn fucking hell I finished fourth with 139,000 points, while Poindexter Bustamante or some similar fucked up name finished third with 142,000. Poindy got $50 freecredit - Flushiepants got nought.

We had some room drinks and then some more and then we made travellers and then we played more and because of room and traveller drinks, I was only fit for stupid Keno.

So I played that and enjoyed the atmosphere and looking around at people and then my traveller ran out so I ordered a Makers rocks which I promptly exploded in all directions onto the Wynn casino carpet. Fuck.




Photographic evidence that I had too many.
Around 7:42 PM we decided to head to the boofay for dinner, and walked into a complete clusterwynn.

Not only were people lined up completely around the holding pen, they were also lined up in the corridor. You know it's bad when the staff is handing out water. They must have been expecting us to pass out like 14 year old girls at a Beatles concert.





We figured it would be 20-30 minutes... wrong. We were seated at 9:15 PM.

The Wynn boofay used to be so good. Our experience this time was not so good.

We arrived around 7:50 PM. Boofay closes at 10:00 PM. We got seated at 9:15 PM and there were still people in line behind us.

Some of the stations were already closed, and the food had been, well, ''aging". Example, pot stickers that were so tough they weren't edible.

The crab legs were so salty I literally spit the first bite out onto the plate. Inedible. Unless you like Dead Sea Salt Mouth.

I had some ribeye and it was also salted like 18th century British navy barrel pork on the outside. Holy shit! I had to spit that out.

When you are spitting out food because it is inedible... that's not a good sign at the buffet.

Some of the stations where they make stuff to order weren't manned any more, even at 9:20 PM.

I got a 'to order' crepe at 9:45 PM and asked for the bananas foster filling.

"No bananas. We finished with that."

This let me to mutter to the person next in line, "I waited for an hour and twenty minutes in line and you can't get me some fucking bananas?"

Flushies, this boofay... they charged $127 for two people. Fuck me. If I had paid for this, I would have been having words with someone. I still might. I might have my chef instruct my lawyer to write a firm letter of complaint to whom it may concern! I ask you! I'll not put up with this. Somebody is going to ignore my scathing complaint to come, that I can tell you!

I have had some fantastic meals at the Wynn buffet boofay - but this time, it was a fail. Thank God it was free.

1 comment:

  1. FLUSHER.............why even step 1 foot on the Strip.....go back to your roots, son.........good luck

    ReplyDelete

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