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Saturday, January 25, 2020

Christmas in Carol

One thing about the Wynn - there is always someone who plays bigger than you. In my case, most of the clientele plays bigger than me.

Day 8 part 3

We walked down the curved hallway to the elevators. Our room was the perfect distance from there, about a dozen or 15 rooms down the hall. We were away from any noise (not that there is any) but the ice machine was close at hand. That's important when you are room camping at the Wynn.

I love how the casino music is carried forward into the elevator cars. It's such a nice transition, either way you are going.

We walked out of the walkway to the casino, dodging a pretty busy crowd. Walking past a blackjack table on the corner, I saw a player coloring up a good sized stack of yellow $1000 chips. A couple of those represented my entire budget. But compared to the quiet Asians in the high limit room playing baccarat, he was small potatoes. I guess that made me a shred of hash brown. Underdone.

It doesn't really faze me anymore, with over sixty trips to Vegas under my belt, I've seen a few things. I know who I am, when it comes to bankroll, and I know who I'm not. And I'm definitely not Banana Man.

In spite of a few nice wins along the way today, I was doing so-so (i.e. not losing too terrible much) and the Quad Queen was doing a little better on the day.

We found the little group of six old IGT Game King machines that I like to play. The three on the casino side (as opposed to the pit side) have quarter video poker on them and more importantly for me... decent keno paytables. The drink service there is good, and if you sit on the end, there's lots to watch while you go Dink Dink Dink 800 times on video keno.

I let the Quad Queen have the outside seat, because some rich mook lady was on the end machine. Maybe she was Mrs. Banana Man, I don't know.

She was one of those players who have more gold than sense. I did what I always do - ignored her.

The Quad Queen got off to a Pointy start pretty quickly on the shitty 6/5 Bonus Poker. Good going!

There's not a lot of low end video poker to play at Wynn. The best machines are a group of 8 Game Kings right at the front of the casino, next to the Take My Selfie in Pouty Flowerland garden, not far from Parasol Up, Down, Right, Left and Sideways.

The cocktail waitress kept coming by at a regular clip. Once we got our travelers down, the rule was we could never turn down an offer for a Christmas Eve drink, and the Maker's Marks and Jameson's were stacking up like 737s waiting to land at to O'Hare in a snowstorm. (In other words, any day between November and Easter.)

I tipped appropriately for the season and before long we were glowing like Rudolph's shnozz.

I lifted my face of the screen long enough to capture the moment of four 9s. Quad Queen again. (Where were my hits????)

Pretty liquor-vision!
I didn't win anything in our session, except a bunch of melting ice in an endless row of sad looking glasses.

We had an elaborate Christmas Eve planned. It was a three part plan. 1) get loaded (done) 2) eat room camping dinner in the room 3) watch a traditional teleplay.

So up we went, flashing our room key at the guy you have flash your room key at. He's paid to look really interested at seeing room keys. I couldn't do that job for more than 20 minutes without barking out snarky comments at the patrons.

In our travels in Las Vegas, we had accumulated an impressive array of room camping supplies including:
  • wraps
  • cheeses
  • chips
  • olive selection
  • Miracle Whip
  • loaves of steakhouse bread, and butter
  • condiment packets including Real Mayonnaise and Tomato Catsup
  • seasoning packets (ok, pepper, fine...)
The piece de resistance was chilled rib eye steak accompanied with real forks, steak knives, and napkins from the Redwood Steakhouse. Not stolen, mind you, but lent to us with the understanding that we would drop them off later. We planned additional visits downtown, so this was our intention.

The guys there are so nice - we explained that, for Christmas, we'd be gnawing on those old, cold rib eyes like shipwreck rats on a carcass, and they also provided one of those little loafs of bread they serve. Because no rat should be without bread!

Look at us go!

I made little sandwiches with my rib eye.

I am not lying, kidding or exaggerating when I say that it was completely delicious!

That there is actually a damn honest sandwich.
Crusty bread, quality rib eye, jalapeno jack cheese. 18.

Olive selection including roasted garlic, pimento, pearl onion, and Circa construction worker sweat. (Not really.)

Having supped, we settled in to watch the classic 1953 teleplay adaptation of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickins. (This is not to be confused with the 2003 pay-per-view hotel porno that I 'accidentally' ordered that one time - Christmas in Carol with Charles Dicking.)

And so, we took in the amazing Vegas strip view, we ate, we drank, we slurred our words while seeing double and cursing Alistair Fucking Sim.

"Do you want to put up stockings?" I asked the Quad Queen.

"Ummm... what'd you get me?"

"Cash. You?"


"Fuck it. Merry Christmas!"

"Let's go gamble."

"On it!"

The show-off Quad Queen got dealt four Kings, while I puttered on video keno, which was kicking my ass.


We've all been there, except for the more savvy among us. (Not me.)

Finally, I gave up on the keno and tried some VP - and countered with my own dealt quad.

But the icing on the Quad cake?

Three pointies showed up, the Quad Queen held and we held our breath - and there it was, Pointies Kicker for $500.

What a great Christmas Eve!

Day 8Result
Royal Flusher$-360
Quad Queen$753
Combined Total$393

Trip So FarResult
Royal Flusher$-995
Quad Queen$1948
Combined Total$953

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