What a day it's already been, and it's not even half over for me...
First of all, work last night was a total pain in the ass. I had nothing but whiney and bitchy players all night long obviously gambling with money they couldn't afford to lose. It was a total mind-numbing grind to make it the full eight hours last night, and to add insult to injury, we only made $128 in tips. Well, they weren't all bad, there were a few highlights, but overall, it was a crummy night behind the green felt. There was one jerkoff in particular that I managed to beat out of about $500, so it put me in a better mood. I was on a double-deck pitch game, and he was taking so long to make a decision every time that the other players started getting irritated. Finally I had to call the floorperson over and ask them Would you kindly assist the gentleman on first base with his playing decision--I don't want to have to give him a delay-of-game penalty... That got a laugh from both the floor and the other players, but the guy remained a jerkoff, so after that it was open season on him.
We finally broke him, but the night didn't improve. The floorperson in charge of the roadmap was in way over his head. (The roadmap is one of the most important documents in the pit--it directs all of the dealers to all of their tables and break schedules. Late at night, once tables start to close, it gets adjusted dozens of times before the shift ends). Anyhow, what he did was send half the dealers home at around 3:20 in the morning, leaving nobody to come back at 3:40. No big deal, right? Well, the dealers that get tapped out for the 'last break' at 3:40 have to go around to all of the pits and empty all of the toke boxes. It takes about ten minutes, but after that they can just go home. Since nobody got tapped out to go on 'break' at 3:40, there was nobody to pick up the tokes. So, all of us unfortunates that didn't get taken off of our tables until Graveyard Shift arrived had to stay late and collect all of the tokes, keeping us there well past 4am. After the wonderful night I'd already had, it contributed even more to my already foul mood.
On the plus side, though, word around the campfire was that the shift manager tore the floorperson a new one before we left. He's not a bad guy (the floorperson), in fact he's one of my favorite supervisors, so I don't wanna see him get in too much trouble. It's just that he's learning the ropes and managing the roadmap is his particular kryptonite.
Anyhow, I finally got home around 4:30 and had to set my alarm for 8:00 am. Why? Because I had to go down to the airport and pick up a rental car for the next four days. Why did I specify picking it up at 9:00 am? I don't know. I'm a dumbass...
Before turning in, I called Angy, and she'd just arrived at the Peoria airport, and I asked her if she wanted me to pick her up. Of course she did--her flight would be arriving at 10:30, so I told her I'd be at the baggage claim at 11:00.
Well, I couldn't sleep at first, but once I finally did, I crashed hard. So hard that I slept through my alarm for a half an hour. I finally realized where the music was coming from around 8:35, hopped out of bed and into the shower. As soon as I got out and got dressed, I called a cab to come pick me up and take me down to the airport.
It arrived about 20 minutes later and for a fare of twelve bucks he got me to the Thrifty lot after a quick stop at an ATM. (Yeah, little tip for you Vegas rookies--cabs in this town are not allowed to take credit cards for payment--cash only). After a brief wait in line, I gave the dude my license and credit card and I was just about done thirty seconds later. But then he asked me if I'd rather have a bigger car, since I was a 'local' he could give me a special rate. How much, I asked. Just another twenty bucks, said he.
Sold, said I.
I asked for a Chrysler 300 (quite an upgrade from the Stratus I'd reserved), but he told me they'd already run out, but I could have any Jeep or SUV I wanted. So I went with a Jeep Commander, knowing that I was giving Angy a ride, and also knowing that she doesn't travel lightly, I figured I'd need all the space I could muster. Those of you not familiar with a Jeep Commander, it's the biggest Jeep they make--it looks a lot like a Toyota Land Cruiser or something you'd take on Safari. It's big and boxy--not nearly as pretty as a Grand Cherokee, but nice enough.
A few minutes later I was out of the airport and heading off to run errands. A quick stop at the bank to move some funds around, then my plan was to drive out to work and visit the nice ladies in the HR department and do paperwork--I needed to cut the contributions to the 401k for a couple months to help me gather a downpayment on a new ride, and also cut out the direct purchase of stock and also sell the shares I'd already bought. This morning's paycheck had over $800 worth of deductions, so if I can get about $300 of that put back in my pocket every time, I should be ok. I'll go back to saving like a miser once I get a car purchased and get that poker-dealing job...
Well, that was the plan, but as soon as I drove out there and walked back to the offices, I found out that the HR office doesn't open until 11:00 am on Fridays. Nice... What a waste of time. So basically the purpose of my trek out to work was to buy an extra large banana-coconut Frappuccino from Starbucks.
Pissed off again, I headed back towards the airport. I got about halfway there when my phone was ringing--it was Angy. Her flight landed about 15 minutes early, and since she didn't have any oversize bags this time, her and her husband were already finished at the baggage claim, too. I floored it and told her I'd be there in ten minutes.
I found them waiting on the sidewalk in the parking garage, and we loaded up the new pimpin' ride and headed for daylight. Of course, since it was Angy, I had some ABBA in the cd player for her... Before we left the airport, we decided to go get some lunch, so we hit our usual first stop, Metro Pizza. It was excellent, as usual.
After that, it was off to their luxurious digs at the Imperial Palace. I dropped them off in front and headed for home. Unfortunately, something in the pizza didn't quite agree with me, so it was a race with the Devil to get home before I soiled a perfectly good pair of boxers and lost a few bucks to Thrifty for upholstery cleaning. But I made it with a few minutes to spare, disaster averted.
Since I was already home and had only about an hour of sleep the night before, the slothful (normal) part of me was just like Fark it, I can change the payroll deductions next week, I need to snooze... But as soon as I laid down, the other half of my brain wouldn't let me relax, so I got up again, put on some shoes, and headed back down to my casino for the third time in less than eight hours.
This time the HR and payroll offices were open, and not only did I get all my paperwork squared away, but they also had the 'Mikey' nametag that I'd ordered back in November. I also got a bit of bad news, that being that I've only got 11 hours of vacation on the books until May 2nd, 2007. (After that, I'll immediately have 2 weeks available). Holy shiat, what a depressing thought. And only 1 more floater day until January, too. Guess I won't be going anywhere for awhile.
Anyhow, after all that was taken care of, I drove back home, hoping to get some sleep, but again that busybody part of my brain kept telling me I should post an update. So here it is. I hope you all appreciate the sacrifices I make to keep you entertained...
Hopefully I can get a quick power-nap in this afternoon before heading back to work. But as soon as I get there, I'm signing up for an Early Out tonight, and hopefully meeting up with Angy and Andrea down at the Carnaval Court for some late-night buffoonery.
At some point, I'll find eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. But checking my schedule, I don't see it happening anytime soon.
Mikey
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