A Little Levity from Captain Sarcastic

The drive to South Point was uneventful, if you skip the part about the head-on crash.

You know, the one the Quad Queen saved us from?

I was so pissed after leaving the Luxor parking lot! Who could expect me to remember that a four way stop could mean that cars could be approaching from any of the four ways?

We were turning right, just as somebody was turning left from the opposite side. In my defense, I pled that the car was unsafely hidden behind the door post, and that even if I hadn't seen them, there were two lanes to turn into and if they came into my lane, it would be their fault.

So, it wasn't my fault, and if there had been a crash, it also wasn't my fault.

The rest of the trip to South Point, a few miles (guess which way) south, went without potential incident.

I stopped ranting about the Luxor parking kiosk torment about 30 seconds before we pulled into the South Point parking structure... where parking is FREE as it should be.

This set me off again, and after I found a pretty good (FREE) spot, I cried in the car for a while - a real 'dropped my ice cream in the sand' shaking shoulders cry, husking off the various tensions that were wracking my athlete's body in a very manly fashion, so that I could concentrate on the matter at hand - gambling.

I like South Point.

Want a taste of classic Vegas food bargains? South Point's graveyard shift specials would be a good place to start. Steak and eggs, $4.95!

Biscuits and CTUG are $2.95, and you can get a 1/2 pound cheeseburger with fries for $3.95.

All bargains, if you ask me.

And! Outside the sports book, for a buck 25, you could get a hand-assembled quarter pound hot dog and bun, with your choice of mustard, ketchup, onions, or relish - or heck! All four!

This was the Quad Queen's first time there, and there were no scents or other olfactory insults that triggered any of her female primal warning systems - so that meant that she liked the place as well.

We toured around and then just picked some machines - there is just tons of full pay VP there - and my jam was 9/6 Boner Deluxe.

It started to come together for me, and I hit one, parlayed using the Strict Rules of Parlay, and then played on and got another. A good start to the morning usually portends a good day ahead. There was a third one that I forgot to photograph for the archives. It looked much like the other 7,018 photos of four of a kinds on this blog.

I sat playing happily while I tried to remember what the hell portend means. I guess it means I portend I know what I'm doing.

"Where's the Poker Room," I asked the Quad Queen, being a bit obnoxious.

Heh heh, a little levity from Captain Sarcastic.

The Quad Queen got some four of a kind action in as well. Took her a bit to get going, but there it was. Or they. Were.

I actually cashed out money from that session. Pretty good for only $40 in.

South Point has a good selection of restaurants. To keep it simple, we opted for the coffee shop, aka the Coronado Cafe.

"Coronado..." I said, "that's Spanish for 'Coffee'. So this," I said, gesturing broadly, "is the Coffee Cafe."

"Now," I went on, schooling the Quattro Queen, " cafe is French for 'coffee'. So this... is really the Coffee Coffee!"

It's very informative hanging out with Flushiepants. You should try it sometime.

We ordered up a Kung Pao chicken, and a Club Sandwich. For some reason, I received a Tower of Noodles with a trio of dipping sauces. And a couple of fortunate cookies.

Although I admired the Coffee Coffee staff's noodle architecture skills, I didn't eat any. Nor the sauces.

I have a sensitivity to food coloring, particularly tartrazine aka Yellow #5, and to a lesser degree, red, and other colors. That shit is in so many of the foods we eat, and it's unnecessary. I shudder when I see red velvet whatever. You're eating a mouthful of lab chemicals. Green beer? Forget it.

Everything was a little too bright and yellow for my liking so I skipped it all. Even the fortunate cookies typically have color in.

At least in the US, these dyes are specifically named on packaging, so I can read and avoid. In Canada, even though they've been talking about it for a decade, manufacturers can identify artificial colours this way:  Contains colour.

What the yellow tartrazine fuck???? Get it together, Canada, you bunch of boobs!*

My Kung Pau was pretty good, but not as good as at T.I. That version is hard to touch. The QQ's club sandwich was good, with generous portions of turkey and dodgy bacon.

My fortunate cookie was stupid, and the Quad Queen's had a directive in it, and nothing portending to future events.

We had one more bash at video poker and I got on a nice run, doing some Struct Rules of Parlay Parlaying. It had taken me a while to get going, but again I cashed out a couple of hundred. I may get good at this one day!

QQ didn't get QQQQ and got SFA instead - sweet fuck all. Once again, we were balancing each other.

Anxious to beat the Friday afternoon traffic, we headed to the parking structure, and left South Point, paying NOTHING for parking, and not getting called fucktonsils by any snarky machinery.

Was I out of the woods yet when it came to the human/machine interface?

Not on your life. I had to buy gas.

*Canada polled for feedback on food labeling, and I participated providing input in 2010. In 2016, they enacted new labeling requirements and gave manufacturers 5 years to implement them. From 2010 to 2021... to change the labels to tell us exactly what we're eating.