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Wednesday, March 20, 2019

It's a Royal Party

I continued to thumb my nose at the class and grandeur of the five star Wynn Encore by breakfasting on punishment string cheese, root chips, and self-crafted coffee in the room.

What a great way to start the morning - by not spending a dime, and snacking and blogging while wearing only one piece of clothing. Photos to come.

Around approximately 9:31.092838 AM in the morning, I took a jaunt down to the casino and found the tournament area. It was staffed with shmoes holding self-important clipboards, so I knew I'd found the right place.

I explained to Shmarmy McDickhead that I had an appointment with the IRS at 1:45 - same time as my tournament round.

The reply?

"Well, your tournament time is 1:45. Be here at 1:45 to play your tournament round. Unfortunately, there is no flexibility in session times."

Flusher knows when to escalate, when to fight on, and when to quit.

I looked that fucker in the eye and handed over my fun little neck hanger badge, didn't say a word, and left.

Man I was furious, so I knew the best thing to do was to avoid the pitfalls of casino gambling, and instead return to the room to repeatedly express my indignation to the Quad Queen, who was watching Cars on her iPad.

The tournament rules specify that you have to be such and such a place at such and such a time to pick your session time, if you don't show, you forfeit. (They also state that Wynn can kick your ass out of the tournament at their discretion before, during, or after the tournament - which seems pretty high handed to me. They don't like the way I smell, they can say sorry, you won, but we're kicking you out, you get nothing, Mr. Zoozacrackers Myass???)

All I could say to the Quad Queen was that maybe I'm being thwarted for some reason, and that Pollyanna was right.

Let's talk about another aspect of this stay at Wynn. The tournament invite was for a) the tournament (duh) b) one comped night on a stay of three nights c) a second comped night with the earning of 5,000 Red Card points and d) if any of your nights are not comped, you have to pay the $4,500 a night resort fee.

Perhaps I exaggerate. Its $39 a night plus tax.

Las Vegas Jaunt has a comprehensive list of all resort fees and what the include. It's a great resource for seeing how hard you will get screwed.

Anyway, a month ago, after booking, we compared an offer the Quad Queen got, and then called in to compare and maybe rebook.

The person we spoke to (the delightful Miriam) said that my reservation showed as three nights comped.

Obviously, we decided not to rock the boat.

On check-in, the lobbyist mentioned that my three nights were comped, and later said I had one night comped and two at casino rate. She asked me if that was right?

I repeated that everyone I'd checked with said it was three nights comped, and she did some poking around and brow furrowing, and said, "I'll make sure that's updated for you."

So somehow, somewhere, some sort of glitch happened which provided huge benefit to us. I suspect the initial reservation was entered incorrectly.

The savings was $39 x three nights, plus $109 for the extra non-comped night, plus tax on all that. Total $253 USD. That's a pretty huge Wynnfall. (heh heh)

I checked the folio on the big TV and it showed three internet fees of $20 (one per device), and a $20 room upgrade fee that I'd agreed to.

Once again, I fucked up with the fine print. This is so sleazy....

If you are paying the $39 resort fee, you get wifi included.

But if your room is comped, you pay no resort fee. AND YOUR WIFI IS NOT INCLUDED. For three devices, it's cheaper to pay the resort fee.

This is highway fucking robbery - they give you no way around it, unless I suppose you play enough to get everything comped out.

However - am I going to complain about the internet fees? No I am not. I am not going to rock the boat. It's only $20 more than the resort fee, and getting the extra nights comped by mistake is worth way more.

I fully expect the rug to be pulled out from under me, but am hopeful the three comped nights will prevail.

Whew, what a lot of blathering.

Flushiepants is full of indignation this morning.

All of that weighing on me, and add that the water here at Encore is fucked up.

It was coming out of the tap whitish and brownish, and there was some residue dropping out as well. No shower for you, funnyboy.

The plan was to go downtown, play some, eat, and catch our 1:45 IRS appointment to sort out our expired ITIN numbers.

We don't need your stupid tournament to have fun! See if you can spot Shmarmy McDickhead.
Fortunately, parking is covered for guests of the hotel. Shocking that they passed on an opportunity to screw us further.

Fast forward to downtown, where we had a quick mission to cash a $10 ticket at the El Cortez (and hopefully not get shot at), and then run down to Main Street Station, where we valet parked, and each popped a $20 bill into five play Sloopy Times Pay nickels.

Ready for the getaway...

You get the money? YES. Punch it baby. PUNCH IT!!!
Right from the get-go, things were clicking for me. Some mornings you just know you have it going on. For the QQ, it was the other way around.

We played a solid half-hour and I was up $30 or so, when it was time to head to the IRS.

I'll get to the point. Job done, and less than an hour later, we were back at the Cal.

What's this???

The mystery bonus spin awaited (we're not sure how or why we got awarded these, but whatever) and we both got 10,000 points. Good enough to cover late lunch.

Omelette for the lady, and soup, half a sandwich, and salad bar (aka senior lunch) for the gent.

And guess what I got???

Done with our chores, and late lunch, we hunkered down in Main Street Station to do some gambling and get some scratchcards.

I had a feeling I had 'it' today, and what would unfold was in many ways remarkable, indeed a Royal Party. You won't believe what happens next. Drunk and disorderly? Do this every day. Casinos are furious at this little device. Genius app finds all the wins.

    1 comment:

    1. What's with the mini snickers on the salad? Is it an inside joke?


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