Enjoy!
Since I didn't do a narrative-style trip report for my visit to Tunica last week, I didn't include the following story. It is all true, and rates right up there with the 'Teef' story:
I stood at the craps table at the Horseshoe from 10pm Friday night until almost 5 am the next morning. I'd participated in a few really good rolls that put me up $200 after all of the crummy shooters that had slowly bled me for most of the night.
As usual, I tipped the dealers pretty well, making my hardway bets two-way, along with an occasional line bet with odds.
After seven straight hours of standing at the table, my feet were killing me, and I was starving because I hadn't eaten anything since 11 am the day before. The pit boss was kind enough to offer me breakfast at their buffet.
I colored up and graciously accepted the comp ticket. I needed to eat, because I'd been drinking Captain and sevens for most of the night, and had to drive back to Harrahs which was nine miles away. No taxi cabs in Tunica.
I shuffled all the way over to the buffet which was at the far end of the casino. After waiting just a few minutes, they had a table ready for me in an alcove next to the breakfast line.
As I walked towards my table, I passed a few members of the overnight cleaning crew, polishing the floor with a large zamboni-type of mopping machine.
My server took my drink order, and I fetched a plate and got in the breakfast line. I filled my plate with bacon, eggs, hash browns, a serving of grits, and a biscuit with gravy. I was thinking I didn't want to eat this much because I'd be going right to bed afterwards, but I was hungry and felt I needed to eat.
Not wanting to wait for a custom-made omelet, I turned around to hurry back to my table. Just as I got to the alcove, I stepped in a still-wet area of the tile and went down face first like Pete Rose sliding into third! My plate flipped in the air and dumped breakfast all over me and the floor, coming down with a crash. I did a short slide into an empty table and jumped up as quick as I could, more embarrassed than hurt--although it stung a little.
"Gotta work on that dismount" I mumbled to nobody in particular, but a nearby table full of gangster-thug looking gentlemen saw the whole thing. They jumped up from their seats and pointed at me, offering such bits of commentary as "You gettin' PAID, brotha!!!", "I seen it all, you got FO witnesses, right here at this table!!", "That's a half million, big man!! They gonna put YO name on the front of the casino!!!", etc....
Of course, my server saw me go down, too, and did the requisite freak-out. I was busy trying to wipe the grits and gravy off of me, while he offered assistance in broken English. Immediately 3 people with walkie-talkies showed up, and I was the center of attention in the middle of the breakfast buffet. They were all talking at once, in full-on damage control mode, but I just wanted to eat and go to bed.
They shadowed me as I got another plate, this time just with some bacon, a scoop of eggs, and a biscuit. I sat down at my table to eat, while they peppered me with questions and called for security. I insisted that I was fine, and just wanted to go to bed.
I started eating, and just a couple minutes later, two security guards showed up with a wheelchair, a clipboard full of paperwork, and a digital camera. I rolled my eyes, thinking it was all a bit of overkill, but they had protocol to follow. Immediately they start to freak out too, as apparently I'd cut my knee without noticing, and my leg was bleeding like a shark attack victim. Of course, I didn't notice, I was busy picking pieces of egg and other goo out of my shirt.
They took pictures and info from me while I cleaned myself up. I insisted I was fine, but they had to cover their asses. I'd pretty much lost my appetite by that time, signed the form that said I refused medical treatment, and tried to escape the Horseshoe.
Ok, so I'd been standing at the craps table for 7 hours and after taking a spill and then sitting for about 15 minutes, my legs were good and stiff. But I managed to hobble out to the front of the casino under my own power, with the security guys following 20 feet behind with their wheelchair in case I took another header into a slot machine or something.
As soon as I got out the front door, they were off the hook, and I was free to go. I stood in the short line at the valet booth, and happened to make eye contact with an attractive gal about 10 years my senior. She started chatting me to me about her losing night at the slot machines, and we made our way to a bench to wait for our cars. They were a little understaffed at that time of the morning, and told us we'd be waiting for a few minutes. No biggie, I was enjoying the company.
Anyhow, we sit down on this bench, and I realize that this gal is hitting on me. Score! So while she's talking about whatever, I'm trying to think how this is going to end up. Can't go back to my room--I brought my mom with me.
My new friend doesn't have a room, she drove down from Memphis. Of course I was under a time crunch to close the deal too, as our cars were likely to arrive at any minute.Well, as I was talking , I turned toward her and put my arm on the back of the bench. She said "Hey, you've got something on your arm". I looked at my forearm and it was completely covered with grits, gravy, floor wax and other assorted nastiness. Yep, that was the deal breaker, as I could see the look of disgust cross her face as I tried to wipe it off...
Luckily her car showed up right then so we didn't have to endure any uncomfortable silence while I finished scraping the goo off my arm with the edge of the park bench.
I was sober as a judge by this time, and my truck showed up about a minute later. I made it back to Harrahs without further mishap.
Mikey
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