I must offer my sincere apologies for my lack of posting for the past couple of days. But the road to Hell has been repaved with my good intentions--I really wanted to put up a couple of things, but I've been swamped with other little projects and haven't really had much free time.
First of all, we still haven't done the Krispy Kreme/Dunkin' Donuts taste test yet. On Thursday, we were so full from dinner the night before and busy sleeping in that it didn't happen. And then on Friday, I didn't get home until after 6 am, slept four hours, and then left again for most of the rest of the day. Here it is Saturday morning, and I thought about it on my way home, but I spaced it on the freeway after work and took the wrong exit and didn't feel like taking the long way over to Eastern & Bermuda, so I just came home. We can still do it next week--those donut shops aren't going anywhere.
So what have I been up to in the interim?
Well, Thursday night after work, I got together with a bunch of friends over at Sierra Gold, a local bar in Henderson, as we were having a small going-away gathering for one of the gals who was quitting and taking a job at Bally's as a floor supervisor. So I sat up till the wee hours with my buddies Todd and Jovanka, drinking and catching up.
I also learned that evening that my Serbian gal Jovanka is a FREAK of nature. First of all, she's built like a brick house--tall, thin, stacked, and ripped. She's a kick-boxer and one night I saw her kick a dude in the head like it wasn't anything. BAM--Like a cobra strike! Down goes Frazier! Down goes Frazier! I always tell her that I'm afraid of her, and we laugh about it, but deep down I know she could kick my ass.
In fact, she always reminds me of a line I stole from The Italian Job and told her a long time ago and it still makes her laugh:
There are three mothers you never mess with-- Mother Nature, mother in-laws, and Mother F*ckin' Serbians!
Anyhow, after the experiment with the raw eggs that Rob and I did a couple weeks back (See the Two Morons post from last month), I was telling everyone at the bar that they couldn't crush an egg in their bare hands. Nobody believed me, so we had the bartender fetch an egg from the kitchen and we passed it around. I offered ten bucks to anyone who could crush it with their bare hand, but if they couldn't, they'd have to give me a dollar.
Of course, I collected more singles than a motivated stripper with rent due in the morning, but when it got to Jovanka, she was determined to crush it. And I'll be DAMNED if she didn't do some funky European Jedi mind trick and shatter that egg in less than thirty seconds!
First of all, we were all flabbergasted, and the funny thing was is that she did it right over the top of her open purse, so we had a HUGE laugh at that. And she thought we were all playing a joke on her by faking it so that she'd crush it and make a mess.
Nope. She's just got insanely strong hands. So we cleaned up the goo and I paid her ten bucks, shaking my head and wishing I'd had a video camera handy. I think Todd's only remark was Holy shiat--She was built in a lab!!!
But we had a great time, and finally called it a night around 6:30 in the morning. And as luck would have it, the bartender comped all of our drinks, thanking us for bringing a crowd in, and he gave us a bunch of free drink tickets for the next time we visit. Score! Of course, we ended up tipping him about eighty bucks--after all, we filled up one of his video poker machines with raw eggs.
Anyhow, I got about four hours of sleep, but woke up and my back was just KILLING me. I don't know what's wrong, but every night for the past week or so, I can't sleep because my back has been hurting. So when it got to the point that I couldn't take it anymore, I said The hell with this! and got up and called a chiropractor.
I ended up spending over a hundred bucks that I really didn't have, just to get an adjustment and get some time on that table with the electronic spine massager. It helped, but I was kind of pissed. My insurance didn't cover it, but damn, when you're that uncomfortable, you'll pay a thousand bucks for a few moments of relief. Afterwards I went to the bank, the gas station, grabbed some lunch, and then over to my insurance company to have them push back my due date a week because of this unexpected expense. They were totally cool about it and I don't even have to pay a fee or penalty. That was nice.
But I didn't get home till after 4:00 pm, and I was dozing on the couch, irritated that I had to get ready for work just over an hour later--I really could've used a nap. And a cocktail. And my back started hurting again.
As soon as I pulled into the garage at the casino, I saw Jovanka pulling in right behind me. As we were walking to the elevator, she asked me how I was doing and I said Crappy--My back is killing me!
Not to worry, she had a bottle of Happy Pills that her doc gave her awhile back--some sort of prescription pain meds. So she gave me two of them, and as soon as I got to the dining room I took them. Of course she warned me that I'll probably get really tired, which sucked, because I still felt exhausted from the night before.
Well, I don't know what was in those magic beans she gave me, but they didn't make me tired. In fact, they had the opposite effect. I was wide awake and bouncing around all night like a ferret on a double espresso. And I was in a damn good mood, too. I swear, she must've accidentally given me some anti-depressants or something, because my silly meter was pegged, and I must've dropped $300 in tokes before 10:00 pm. Those that were lucky enough to sit at my tables at the beginning of my shift saw Mikey in rare form--And my back didn't hurt either!
Of course, it didn't hurt that I didn't see any of our regular fleas, and I did my first hour on the dice table, filling in for a call-out until the 8 pm crew showed up. And I had a couple of uber-Georges at the $20 Pai Gow table, so last night actually went by pretty fast for me. And I was even one of the unlucky ones that had to stay till the bitter end, not getting the half-hour push, and punching out sometime after 3:00 am.
Anyhow, I scurried off to my truck and was speeding down the freeway singing Christmas music at the top of my lungs, and auto-piloted myself off at the Green Valley exit instead of going down to Eastern, so that's why there are no donuts on the counter waiting for me and Rob to taste test them in a few hours.
Now you know.
Mikey
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