Sunday, March 17, 2019

The Pen Is Mightier Than The Snickers

The Quad Queen went back to Treasure Chest and I went on to the blackjack table and bought in for $100.

On my left were two Texan women on a batchelorette trip, and on my right was a lady also from Texas.

The bride to be was yammering on about how her friend had decorated her door in the night with all kinds of celebration stuff. Then she hopped up and came over and showed us all a photo of the door.

"See here, this is where it says 'Same Penis for the Rest of Your Life'."

That all got done and I didn't really involve myself in any conversation.

A few minutes later, someone made a joke about something and the table laughed about that. My contribution was, "I really didn't think I'd hear the word penis within 15 minutes of buying in at a blackjack table."

Stone cold silence.

And that's where I learned lesson two, but I'm still not sure what it is.

Maybe it's that blackjack sucks, because I was out $100 in less than half an hour.

Meanwhile, another photo had come in, but the QQ had also texted that she was headed up for a nap. No royal photo this time.


I spent the next three hours wandering the casino, playing this and that, and slowly losing money.

I have no photos to share. None. Nothing useful happened.

Grind grind grind, until I was ground down.

Up in the room, the QQ was fast asleep, so I headed back down again, and went out to get some sun while I still could. It was a great time to take some photos of buildings. So I did that.








My plan was to had over to the Plaza and 'invest' $100 in a Buffalo Grand machine I've had luck with.


Gearing up for St. Patrick's Day with a bar and food setup in the porte cochon. Great idea.
I didn't even get a bonus round. Buffalo was Busttalo.

Back at the Cal, the QQ had gotten up. She had a bucket of quarters from Treasure Chest, so we went down and played those. We didn't hit a thing and went through them all.

And that's when I learned a third thing.

The woman next to me had hit a quad on Double Double, and she had a soft-side coin bag to receive the coin drop into.

Brilliant!


We headed for dinner and sure enough, we got the waiter I am not fond of - the very same one who prematurely took my mini Snickers bar.

He took our order and made some sort of a false move an scratched my arm.

'Sorry', he muttered and waitered off to do whatever waiters do.

I was creeped out because it felt like a fingernail, but when I looked at my arm, I could see that that Snickers stealing bastard had written on me!

What the hell?


When I got up to go to the salad bar, he was clearing a table right on the way, so I walked by and said to him, "Just so you know... you probably should not write on any more customers..."

Then when he was out of earshot, I added, "...twat."

My dinner was amazing. The Korean Short Rib appetizer, and mini Salad Mountain. They have this wonderful salty/spicy cucumber salad that I just adore, and it is the perfect complement to the smokey, sweet, tang of the ribs.

If I ever commit a capital offense, I want this for my last meal before they swing me.


As we were finishing up, I though of the perfect way of having a great story to tell you all, and closure on the Snickers pilfering event that has haunted me ever since.

The arm-writing waiter arse brought the check and I said, "You know those little mini Snickers bars that they have with the half sandwich and soup?"

"Snickers... ah, yes, I know them."

"One of those would be the perfect ending to a great meal."

He hemmed and hawed and mumbled some stuff about the head chef being back in the kitchen.

I pointed to the long, scratchy, debilitating, disfiguring pen mark on my otherwise virginal lily-white Canadian winter arm.

"They're trying out recipes with the head chef, I wouldn't be able to get them to give me one, and the head chef might see, and blah blah blah, and excuse excuse excuse..."

I call extreme bullshit on all of that. You can't tell me that that wait-klown could not go back there and say, "Hey, I accidently wrote on some motherfucker, and if I don't give him a mini Snickers bar, he's going to cut me up bad with one of the cheap, dull, bendy mess hall knives we put on the tables here. Can you hook me up so I don't end up bleeding out all over the potato salad?"

That totally would have worked, and I'd have a perfect ending to the Snickers saga.

No, he stiffed me. He fucking wrote on me and then denied me Snickers a second time.

After that, the Quad Queen got killed on 10 play Bonus, and I got killed on other machines.

A weird, bad, snickerless day, ended badly, with a bad beating for both of us once-upon-a-time badasses.

St. Patrick better come through with some green tomorrow.


3 comments:

  1. I still really like MainStreet Station, I have Been hedging going back, because Boyd crushed their B Connected program especially for VP Players. It doesn't seem to have affected your decision to play their. I am curious your thoughts on this subject. I am looking for some insight.......... hopefully.

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    1. The changes have taken playing enough for gold cards, decent cash back, and tier status out of the equation. We are playing a lot less than we used to, and it's nice to be free from any expectations of coin in levels. As long as the offers keep coming and our host is generous with meal comps, we'll keep staying and playing. We are probably playing a third of the coin in we used to.

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    2. Thanks, that is what I thought. As long as we get the offers then I am good, but playing for points is out. I have considered 4 Queens. There program seems better. Thanks again for the response.

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