Here it is late Sunday afternoon, and I can't believe the weekend is almost over--time seems to be moving in fast forward, which is a good thing right now. Work has been very enjoyable so far this week, and last night was no exception--I was dealing at three of my favorite tables, I was fairly busy, and I got to flirt with my favorite lady throughout the night, too. And I even got the half-hour early push, so it was pretty much a perfect evening at work.
Once I got out of work, I finally broke down and went to the grocery store--my cupboards have been bare for several days, but I was trying to stretch it out and not buy anything before next week, since I won't be home for pretty much five days straight. But I couldn't make it. I needed some milk, and bread, and stuff to make sandwiches, and something to mix with my rum. And although I've had no rum today, I just finished off my redneck-style pimento and cheese sandwich, and it was quite tasty. But I guess I didn't go totally redneck--I used wheat bread instead of Wonder bread. And I was drinking a glass of Coke instead of RC. And there were no moon pies consumed, either.
But once I got home from work and the grocery store early this morning, I had all kinds of grandiose plans to do some housework and get stuff done, but all I managed was a shower, loading and running the dishwasher, and doing a load of laundry before I collapsed in bed and snoozed for about eight hours straight. I shouldn't be surprised though--Saturday was a very long day for me.
I got up around 9:30 yesterday morning and called my old buddy Ed W. He was in town for the first weekend of the tournament with a couple of the guys he works with, and we'd made plans to spend the day together. When I talked to him, he was in the process of trying to do two things--drink an entire bottle of Skye vodka and walk from the Riviera to the Luxor. When he answered the phone, he was doing pretty well with the vodka aspect of the mission, but he had made it as far as Caesars Palace and had given up on the walking bit, and decided to catch a cab the rest of the way to Luxor.
I told him to give me about an hour to get showered and dressed, and I'd pick him up on the north side of the pyramid.
I got there a few minutes early, but he was outside waiting, already sporting his early-morning Vegas buzz. He hopped in the truck and we then made our way downtown to the Four Queens, as the plan was to grab a bite, watch some hoop, and spend the afternoon smoking cigars and catching up.
Luckily the Chicago Brewing Company and cigar lounge is a still-undiscovered gem in the middle of the hustle and bustle of Fremont Street, and we scored one of the five tables in the place. Lunch was pretty good--we ordered some southwestern egg rolls, garlic knots, and a club sandwich, along with a couple of tall pale ales. In addition to the good food and good beer, they had the Duke/West Virginia game going on the big screens.
Once we'd finished off all the food, we migrated twenty feet over to the 'lounge' part of the place and grabbed a couple of comfy chairs in the corner. We'd both brought the best from our own personal stashes, so we spent the balance of the afternoon smoking Partagas black labels, Series E's, and some Rocky Patel reserve sticks. All were very good.
We'd also ordered a couple of snifters of Grand Marnier, and the bartender hooked us up with two of the biggest damn servings I'd ever seen. Seriously, when she brought them out, I said It's gonna take me all day to drink that! I mean, there must've been eight full ounces of sinus-clearing happiness in those glasses. Not that we were complaining, mind you, it was just our initial shock of seeing such a generous pour.
But that's not what we started out doing. Nope, tradition dictates that whenever Eddie and I get together, we kick off the celebration with a shot of chilled tequila. Since we're both doing better financially than we were about ten years ago when we first started out, we've moved up the tequila food chain--no more 1800 for us like in the old days. We went with the Patron Silver this time around.
It was almost too smooth. Dangerous, even. There was talk of getting a few more, but cooler heads prevailed and I put the brakes on that idea since I still had to go to work later that night. But for a moment there, we considered getting flat out stupid and making another great Vegas memory. But I would've had to call in sick, again, and I just couldn't do that. So one shot was all we did. Ed, of course, was way ahead of me--he'd already killed a bottle of vodka before I picked him up.
But you have to wonder just how bad a situation has devolved when I become the voice of reason and responsibility for the group...
But things didn't get out of hand or too silly after that--we just had a wonderful mellow visit, smoking cigars, catching up on the latest news and gossip, and making plans for future vacations and buffoonery. Since Ed and his wife are expecting in late July (and the kid, Ed the fifth, already has a nickname--Cinco!), we decided to get together in early June for another weekend in Phoenix. I'm going to take some vacation and do a Friday-Tuesday road trip again, and this time we're going to have an all-night poker game like we used to back in the early days.
I'm really looking forward to that.
We had quite a few laughs while sitting there in the lounge, though. The late game was the UNLV/Kansas game, where everybody just *knew* that UNLV was gonna get waxed. But there were a few fans sitting near us in Kansas gear, and a few other people in the bar wearing the UNLV colors. The biggest tv near us was set on 'mute', and the closed-captioning was turned on. One of the Kansas fans asked the bartender (who was wearing a UNLV jersey), if she could please get rid of the close-captioning on the TV.
I chimed in with Yeah, because you know them Kansas fans can't read! which got a huge laugh from the rest of the crowd. It was all good natured though--everybody was rooting for Kansas to cover, even the UNLV fans (Hey, they're from Vegas, they're not stupid! Nobody had UNLV getting to the sweet 16 this year, so all they bet accordingly).
Before we realized it, the clock on the wall said it was 4:30 in the afternoon, and we had to wrap it up. We settled our ample tab, extinguished the last of the cigars, and finished the last of our ice water. I had to get back home and get ready for work, and Eddie had to get over to the Hilton to see his brother, who was also in town, having flown in from Austin.
We laughed our way out of the Four Queens, and I dropped him off a few minutes later. We said our goodbyes and promised to make good on a Phoenix get-together in a couple of months. Eddie then stumbled into the Hilton for another night of Vegas buffoonery, while I made my way back to Henderson to prepare myself for another night of working the felt.
Overall, it was a pretty damn good day. But once was enough. I'm glad that today I'm able to relax, catch up on my sleep, and get a few chores done. And if I can just make it through these last two work-days, well, then the party really begins.
Mikey
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