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Tuesday, January 28, 2020

People to Go, Places to Meet

Sometimes I think Lyft would be better if they could just line up cars at the pickup point, and then you go and get in one. Oh - wait - then it would be a taxi.

Day 9 part 3

To really make Christmas special, we would enjoy Christmas dinner with my cousins, the Manitoba crew.

BomberGal had finally arrived, so she'd be with us as well. And what more Christmasy dinner venue can you imagine than the Triple Seven brewpub at Main Street Station? That's right, there isn't one.

The Quad Queen was feeling better - I think that treating her as a pack animal to hump my liquid load from Encore all the way up to our room in Wynn probably helped significantly.

I know what you are thinking... 'Hump. My liquid... load???'. Yes, sometimes even I am charmed by my suave prose and elegant turn of phrase.

We played some at Wynn, and the Quad Queen made good with a Christmas Foursome of Jolly Tens.

I checked in with Mrs. Gambletron and they'd gotten onto the kiosk game bandwagon and had snarfed a bunch of comps at Main Street. We'd head down and see if we couldn't do the same. Maybe we could pool all our chits and get a steaming hot Christmas dinner shoved down our throats, with all the trimmings, by waltzing waiters and in a happy and gay manner.

I couldn't wait to hear the pudding beer singing in the copper kettle - and the goose would be the finest goose, and ours would be the finest Christmas in all of Londontown Vegas.

Queens for the Queen. And no paper trail without her Stupid Red Card inserted, depite the protestations of the software implanted on the gaming device pictured above.
At the appropriate time, it was time to head downtown, so I hailed Norman the Lyft driver and let them know we would soon join them at the Golden Gate, where everyone was hanging out in the Perch, one of the original rooms overlooking Fremont, with windows that open so you can yell shit at people.

Dr. Raoul gets this room almost every trip as a kind of clubhouse for making fun of the drunk and stupid down below. It's a great place to shoot the shit and people watch.

So stupid Norman drove from east to west on Sands Avenue approaching Wynn - I watched him on my piPhone - and he could have been at the pickup point in about one minute.

And what did he do?
He drove right past us, and turned right at the Strip. For God's sake.

The little map dealy in Norman's car told him to do a u-turn at Wynn Blvd. He'd still have to make a left onto Sands, and then another left into the South Gate.

Did Norman do this?

No, Norman did not. Norman instead turned right, perhaps intent upon circumnavigating the entire Wynn/Encore property - which can't be done from there.

Now Norman would be looking at a left off of Wynn onto the Strip, and then two more lefts to get to us, standing where we had recently grown roots, we'd been there so long.

Why am I dwelling on all of this? Because it would not be the first time - or the last - this would happen. Plus it's fun to take the piss out of people who are just trying to earn a goddamned honest dollar - you heartless BASTARD. On CHRISTMAS. This is the way you talk about those poor drivers?

Well, yes. It is.

Dear Norman finally picked us up at exactly the right spot - where we were standing. And he did deliver us to our final destination, unbloodied - always a plus in the world of disruptive shared transportation paradigms - only 45 minutes after we'd initially summoned him.

Naturally, I tipped Sweet Dear Norman a significant amount - for him. Many, many of his expected 'dollars'. Because Christmas!

At Main Street, we did our play to qualify for the kiosk freebies and were successful in obtaining some comp dollars to apply to the Christmas Feast bill.

In fact, I came close - yet again - to a pretty sweet dollar Royal. Not today, Mr. Bastard.

We had been worried that things would be super busy on Christmas - and that was true for the buffet - but we had no trouble whatsoever getting a table for all the Manitoba Crew Plus Two at Triple Seven.

We pinged the others and waited for them to arrive.

Dinner was great. It was really special to spend Christmas dinner with family - because after full pay video poker, comped drinks, and six spot video keno hits - what else is important, really important in life?

There's Gambletron, and BomberGal in her blue and gold regalia, still celebrating Winnipeg's decisive Grey Cup trouncing of the TiCats.
Based on my amazing pizzagasms from a few nights previous, I convinced some of the Crew to try the Triple Seven's pizza. Including myself.

I. Want. This.
So. Fucking. Bad. Now.
Dinner was amazing and so much fun. And the pudding, oh the pudding, was delish.

Gambletron went for Prime Rib, and then impressed me finishing it, and then scarfing down a couple of slices of my disk that I couldn't put away.

Dr. and Mrs. Raoul Shiboubou were feeling kind of downhearted about being in Vegas.

After dinner, we went our separate ways to... yeah, gamble.

I got one last Christmas gift - dealt 2s on 50 cent Bonus - before Cat Stevens drove us back to Wynn.

I know that doesn't look remotely like Cat Stevens, but to me it did at the time. Blame liquor.

The Quad Queen had her bad day this day, which sucked.

But me (it's all about MEEE) me had a very good day. And combined, we won on the day. Generally, the trip was shaping up pretty well. Being only $425 in the hole after 9 days is stellar. Being up $1400 was is super stellar. Nice going, QQ!

Day 9Result
Royal Flusher$570
Quad Queen$-540
Combined Total$30

Trip So FarResult
Royal Flusher$-425
Quad Queen$1408
Combined Total$983

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