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Thursday, February 6, 2020

The Secret Identity Booth of Embarrassment

We hit the Wynn casino of course, for a wee play before heading down and out to the Cosmopolitan.

Day 11 part 3

Just so I wouldn't get too cocky, the Quad Queen hit a straight flush. They are always so pretty.

Naturally, I admonished her for not making the straight flush sequential. And don't think I am being a hard-ass about this - I would have accepted either ascending or descending.

Perhaps his one-credit a game play has him on edge.
I didn't do anything worth taking photos of, like line dancing by myself through the lobby, or bussing tables at Charlies Bar and Grill, the sports book eatery. I didn't win anything either.

So, the next photo was taken on the way to Cosmo. It was pretty cold out, and we were lazy, so Lyft it was, yet again.

Bad Tourist Photos, 1st edition.
Bad Tourist Photos, 1st edition. Is it any wonder rideshare is so popular?
I've never paid much attention to Taxi pricing, but there it was, right out my window.  Look at those prices. And a credit card 'fee' of three bucks?

If I wanted to take a cab from Caesars to say Bellagio it would cost:
$3.50 for the first 1/12 mile.
$0.69 for the distance left to Bellagio
$3.00 for the credit card fee
$0.22 in tax
$2.00 tip
for a total of $9.41.

I'm not sure if waiting time means waiting at a light for example, and not moving. That could easily tack on another $2.70 for 5 minutes plus the 3% tax for a total of an additional $2.78.

Now we're at $12.19, and you can be sure you'd get the stink-eye for the short fare.

Somewhere along our way, I'd got a message from BomberGal: "I'm in Venetian."

And just as I finished up the Lyft transaction, another one: "I'm going to Wynn. Where are you?"

I messaged back: "We're at Cosmo."

The Cosmopolitan is a favorite of many, many people. We've never stayed there, and we really should sometime. For one thing, they have very fast-moving skinny people around.

Shootin' dice at the Cosmo.
The Quad Queen didn't have an Identity card, so we walked through the place, to the Identity booth.

Not much meat on those gams.
We got the most pleasant Identity boothling imaginable. She was cute, bubbly, smart, and unflappable, which would be tested shortly. Because there would be some potentially flapping discussion coming.

It turned out her first name is Quad as well, so the two of them started blipping and blapping about names this and that, giggling, oh you don't saying, I've heard thating and the next thing I know, the Quad Queen had actually flapped me, but not the unflappable boothling, because she said:

"A guy I worked with grew up with a guy whose family name is Hunt."

A little blood drained from my face and I felt weak at the knees.

"His first name was Michael. For real. His name was Mike..."

She paused.

She wouldn't! Would she???


She would and did.

The two of them guffawed (like anyone does that anymore) and I stood there actually quite flapped and embarrassed. This kind of inappropriate boothling stuff was my domain. I'm the one that's supposed to cross the line with everything I do, pretty much.

The boothling countered with the name of a person she'd known that was way, way inappropriate.

I tried to stop them, I really did. Tried to change the subject. Nothing doing. More guffawing.

And then I thought, well, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em and got busy on my phone.

"Oh yeah, well there was a baseball player, here's his '84 Topps baseball card with the Twins. Check out his name!"

I showed the picture around.

Dead silence.

"Royal." said the Quad Queen, looking down at the counter.

"It was really his name," I said.

More dead silence, deader than before. I felt like asking Vasilli to give me a ping, one ping only please, before diving to 20,000 billion feet under the fucking sea.

"OK, Mrs. Flusher, you're all set, you've got $25 in freeplay. This little card, which everyone throws away, explains needlessly how to access your freeplay, because everyone already knows how and it's the same at 900 casinos around the country."

"Could you say she's 'good to go' please?"

The silence to end all dead silences.

Next, I had a secret spy mission - I had to drop off an Official Lucky Business Card 2.0 in a secret location for Yo Leven, who would be arriving at the Cosmo in about a month.

Just around the corner from the Identity Booth of Embarrassment, I found a row of Monopoly machines. The last machine was way against the wall, by an employee doorway and an Emergency Exit. Perfect.

Looks like a regular row of Monops machines, right?

It's actually a counter-intelligence dead drop for highly classified business cards.

Mission done, the next mission was to get some drinks, and blow through the freeplay.

Mission accomplished.

I got a message from BomberGal: "I'm at Encore."

Encore was hosting BomberGal, and we were getting bombed. Great drink service at the hundred play and fifty play machines outside High Limit!

I got bored and started playing random slots. And that turned into a tour of video slots, shoving a ticket in, playing a bit, trying to figure out what the hell was going on, and then cashing out and moving to another bright, shiny object.

I played some stupid winter themed slot. Got some bonuses on it. Dig this guy and his candy necklace!

This is the cute little hut where Mr. Frozen Man above keeps the dead squirrel he wears on his head.

Oh yeah? Well FU TOO, creepy baby with bad hairstyles machine!!!

We had a blast, finished up our last drinks, and got set to head downtown.

I messaged BomberGal: "Where downtown are Gambletron and Company?"

"They all went to Sam's town," came the response.

That was okay, we could find a few things to do on Fremont street. I summoned a Lyft.

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