Uncle Steals the Pointies

Day 7 - Vegas is nothing if not unpredictable. Just when you think you've figured the pattern out, it pulls the rug out from under you.

Or puts the rug back. Or pulls it halfway out, puts it back, pulls it out again, rolls you up in it, and dumps you in the trunk of Joey 'Three Fingers' Pizanno.

This is going to be a very odd blog entry. Should I frame it even more or just get on with it?

There were two highlights this day, and one of them was breakfast.

I'm still managing to get up early, staying on Eastern time, and did the things I do. Coffee, writing, brushing that one pesky tooth, you know.

With some amazing jackpots under my belt, I planned to move cautiously with the gambling for the rest of the trip. But first things first - I thought I'd go back to the machine that refused to give me that $400 Boner Deluxe quad last night, and get my revenge.

I paced myself over the 40 long steps to the casino, walked to the machine, and... there was someone at it - one of the many 90 year old Hawaiian uncles - along with 2 or 3 other people.

Thwarted, I headed for the coffee shop, and got a table.

For breakfast, I changed it up and order the chicken fried steak and eggs, with buckets of Country Throw-up Gravy oozed all over it. This is the hooker with cold sores of the breakfast world. You're disgusted, and yet you can't help yourself.

Did that one land? Probably not.

Well, here it is, make up your own damn iffy stomach metaphor.

Country Throw-up Gravy! CTUG!

It was delicious. The 'steak' was the size of a hubcap. I couldn't finish it all. Which is good, because in the medical literature, this same photo is captioned 'The Atrial Plate'.

That done, I marched to 'that machine' again and... saw what those folks gathered around it had been talking about. There on the screen was Boner Deluxe. Dollar denomination. And four Aces. And a message saying that $400 had been cashed out.

So much for that plan. Uncle stole my Pointies!

I spent a little time hunting around for better video Keno paytables and confirmed that some of the specific machines specified in my notes on the subject had been shorted. They were on to me!

But on the Mezzanine level, in the sea of uprights, I found a machine that had what I wanted.

Note that the top payout is 10,000 for 8, 9, and 10 spot bets. With 10 out of 10 being astronomically more rare than 8 out of 8, there's little reason to play that many number, if the top payout is what you're targeting.

I had a couple of close calls, but no jackpot.

And this is the story of the day. As I looked at the photos in Google photos, all the pictures from today fit on one screen.

It doesn't matter much that I flitted from machine to machine, game to game, between the Cal and Main Street. I tried Pinchy, I tried Keno, I tried that 50 cent Bonus progressive, I tried quarter triple triple double poker.

I hit nothing. Not a damn thing - all day. And it really wasn't very long before my $400 stake was gone. Not very much fun.

I holed up in my room and gazed at the rooftop air handling equipment to pass a few hours.

That's right - I might have actually matured a little bit and learned (or re-learned) a lesson about not going on tilt and trying to force things if the machines are not behaving. I shut it down and just Vibed with what the universe was giving me, which was sweet fuck all.

The second highlight of the day was meeting up with Vegasfan1970, and HuckleberryGirl. I welcomed this meeting for two reasons - one, we've tried to connect quite a few times over the years after finding kinship online, and two, I desperately needed a distraction to protect what was left of my winnings and keep me from gambling like a dazed, rabid degenerate.

And there they are, proud owners of proven - PROVEN - lucky Official Royal Flusher Business Card 3.0s, with the rounded corners and 14k gold leaf embossed printing, and the Strict Rules of Parlay printed on the back for easy reference.

We had a very nice chat at the bar. I only took time out to signal Maria that she didn't need to call 911, they were not after my kidneys.

As I had long suspected, Vegasfan and Huck are two quality, classy, smart and funny individuals and it was a pleasure to finally meet. Yes, they are everything I aspire to be... except self-deprecating.

I'd added $200 to my stake in anticipation of playing some bartops with my visitors and enjoy comped beers - which is what happened. Huck won $20 and I lost $10.

After they headed off, I played the rest of my fifth hundy of the day, and then just chilled again. Rested, took a nap, tried to figure out what dinner would be.

After that gutbomb breakfast, I'd not needed or eaten lunch. Finally I settled on the idea of pizza at the Triple 7.

It was delicious. I ate half of it and put the rest in the fridge in my room. I am comforted that I now have punishment cold pizza on tap.

This was a strange day. The gambling was just a complete flop, and I had lost $500, putting me at plus $1300 for the trip, but at the same time, I felt I'd gained something much more valuable - two new friends that didn't roofie me.

Today was a good day.