I wanted to post yesterday, but I was gone all day and extremely exhausted. I've figured out that it's the drugs that are keeping me going--I still haven't quite shaken the bug I picked up a couple weeks ago, and while I can control the symptoms, between work, running around, and taking all the medicine, my system is being taxed to the fullest. Sunday night, after my last update here on the site, I hit the bed and was basically paralyzed for the next 18 hours. I swear I couldn't move.
I finally crawled out of the nest around noon yesterday and did some more running around. I went to a local cigar store just to take a look at what they had (my Partagas haven't arrived yet), and I'm surprised that the place is still in business. A small humidor with a crummy and overpriced selection of mostly junk. Of course the idiot that runs the place was trying to sell me some unlabeled Pre-embargo 'Cuban' Cigars for $12 a stick that "somebody found in a warehouse in Nicaraugua" or some other such bullshiat story. Yeah, right. It sounded a lot like Snoop Dog telling the cops Yeah playa, I know some people that know some people that know some people that stole some shit...
Desperate for a smoke, I dropped $20 on a couple of other cigars of not-quite-as-questionable origin and I left, vowing never to give them any further business.
From there I headed down to the Peppermill for breakfast, this time opting for the seafood omelet, which was so huge that I didn't finish half of it. Pretty tasty though, if a bit overcooked. Luckily my gal Krista was manning the bar in the Fireside Lounge and hooked me up with some complimentary rum drinks. Once I lit up my cigar, however, I felt I needed to go a more traditional route. So I put a stop to the Appleton's and had her give me a snifter full of Grand Marnier in which to dip my cigar before each puff (I've long since forgotton where I learned that trick, but damn, it enhances the experience almost as much as KY Jelly does at tax time).
In addition to dipping my cigar in fine liqueur, I had her make me a traditional Bombay Sapphire martini, rubbing the glass with dry vermouth first, and then serving it shaken, not stirred. A few olives for garnish, and chilled to perfection with ice crystals floating on top. Between the cigar, Grand Marnier, and the top-shelf martini, I was pretty much in my happy place. Be warned, however, it is not a drink for girly-men or the faint-of-heart who believe martinis are made with vodka.
After a couple hours of relaxation and pleasant conversation, it was time for me to move on. I had to be at the Barbary Coast to meet up with Kelly, Dane, and Melissa, and I was also going to meet up with longtime readers Lisa and Rob from the Great White North. As I wandered in I spied an open dice table, and not having played in over a month, I decided to give it a try. Bad move. I'd budgeted $175 for gambling this week while visiting with everyone, and within about a minute and a half I was down $75. Apparently, my dice throwing skills have been eroding due to my long absence from the rail. Luckily Rob walked up and found me just about the time they announced 'Seven Out!' for the third time in six rolls.
We wandered a bit, but settled down at a $5 Pai Gow table where I managed to make $40 back in just a few minutes. We found Lisa at a blackjack table a few minutes later, and we settled in the sports book for drinks and story telling. About that time I got a text message from Kelly saying they were there at the BC, having lunch in the Victorian Room.
After a few rounds, we all gathered together and introductions were made. Some went to play slots, some went to watch the Big Elvis (600 lbs. of mutton-chopped musical talent clad in the largest single piece of spandex in the western hemisphere. Truly a site to behold). But Melissa, Lisa, and I went to play some Pai Gow. They'd never played before, and I was willing to teach them. Unfortunately, we picked the worst table in the world to learn on, as the dealer laid a beating down on us that only the New York Giants could relate to. It was a horrible scene of gambling carnage, and we were wiped out fairly quickly. I'm fairly certain that the girls won't be playing much Pai Gow in the future.
The North Carolina contingent headed off for greener pastures, while I said my goodbyes to Rob and Lisa, making plans to hook up again later this summer. I had to work last night, so I needed to get going.
By the time I got home, the medicine had worn off, and I was feeling pretty crummy in addition to still being tired. I still gutted it up and drove to work, but put my name directly on the top of the Early Out list, hoping that it would be slow enough to leave a few hours early.
In addition to being worn out, I was on a pretty crummy string of tables. Two single-deck blackjack games and one 6-deck shoe. I really hate the single-deck games because you're shuffling all the damn time, but the shoe is cool because you can just fly along on autopilot. Unfortunately for my players, it didn't matter which table I was on--I was unbeatable last night. I just crushed everyone.
Right around 11pm, my mood improved considerably as I caught a glimpse of one of those extremely hot girls I met a few weeks back who followed me around from table to table. She waved at me, came over and said she'd come back to talk to me in just a minute. Ok! Suddenly I felt much better.
But wouldn't you know it, thirty seconds later I got tapped out and sent home.
Damn.
I lingered a bit, hoping to see her, but I didn't. I signed out, then went in back, changed, and clocked out.
I drove home and collapsed in bed, too tired to even get on the computer. Luckily today I'm feeling a little better and found the strength to migrate my ass the four feet from the bed to the computer and share a little bit of my day with you.
I should have more interesting stuff to post tomorrow because tonight I shall be doing a little in-room happy-hour over at the Alladin, followed by a limo ride up and down the Strip and dinner downtown at Binion's Ranch. It should be a great evening.
Mikey
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