Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Funny, I Don't *Feel* Stimulated

I hope you folks are able to read all these posts in chronological order, instead of top-to-bottom, and are enjoying the hour-by-hour adventures of my own personal Truman Show.

So, where did I leave off? Oh yeah, as soon as I hit the 'submit' button on that last post, it was off to the Silverton to play a little poker. But by then, I was pretty hungry. I arrived at the casino about fifteen minutes before the scheduled start time, and I know from past experience that the tournament never starts on time. Hell, when I walked up, the floorman was telling a player We'll probably get started about ten minutes after the hour...

I had some time, so I wandered over to their Mexican joint, Mi Casa Grill and Cantina, and took a seat at the bar. They stop serving food at ten p.m., so I got in just under the wire. I ordered a Captain & Coke, and looked at the menu. My plan was to just get an appetizer, snarf it down, and head back to the poker room without my stomach growling all through the tournament.

But there are no appetizers on the Mi Casa menu. So I ordered a steak fajita salad instead. Of course, one can't sit at a bar anywhere in Vegas and not slip a buck or two into the video poker machine, and I decided on taking a shot on winning at some sort of poker during my visit.

Wouldn't you know it, just about three hands into it, I got four queens, so dinner and the poker tournament was paid for. And they took my drink off the tab, too. Heh. Only in Vegas. A few minutes later, the biggest frickin' salad in captivity landed in front of me, and I think my reaction was something along the lines of Holy Shiat! I just wanted a small salad, not the bowl from the buffet line...

The bartender said that everyone reacts that way when they first see it. Anyhow, this salad was served in a huge deep-fried tortilla, secured to the plate with charro beans, filled with greens, grilled onions and peppers, black beans, and grilled skirt steak. It also came drizzled with just a touch of sour cream, and a side of nice spicy dressing.

It was excellent! But the clock was ticking and I was only able to finish about a third of it. When I looked at the bill, I was amazed that it only cost eleven bucks and change before tip! Definitely a good value, and I think I'm going to go down earlier next time so I can actually enjoy it.

But I got back to the tournament and got my seat just as they were drawing for the button. I was playing really well, but got crippled by a guy on a flush draw who ended up getting runner runner to make trips against my two pair Kings & Queens. I wasn't out, but I was bleeding. I was still playing as well as I have in a very long time, and even made it to the final table, but was short stacked. My only mistake was the last one of the night, when I called an all-in with Ace-Ten of hearts. But the blinds were $400-$800, I had only $1400 left, and I was two seats away from the big blind, so it was Go-time.

The other guy had pocket eights, and the flop came out Ten-Eight-Ten, making my trips but giving him the boat. I went out in ninth place. I feel like I'm playing well enough to get into today's tournament down at Binion's, but a couple of times these past two days or so, I almost talked myself out of it.

Since I only had time to finish about a third of my salad, by the time I came home, I was hungry again. I kept thinking that I *really* needed to make that spaghetti, because the Italian sausage would have to go back in the freezer, and the onions and peppers would go bad if I waited another week. (And if I do well in this tournament at Binion's, I won't be home for dinner--it's a big one that lasts about seven or eight hours). But I spaghetti wasn't going to help me right then anyways, so I made a quesadilla, watched a couple of episodes of Anthony Bourdain, and then dozed for about an hour.

When I woke up, I told myself that I have to get that spaghetti sauce made, so I hit the kitchen with full-on gusto at 2:30 this morning. I was chopping veggies, grilling meat, mixing spices and sauce, and generally making a huge mess. It was hot, but I was having fun. Oh, and the kitchen doesn't smell like bacon anymore. It now smells like sauteed garlic and onions. But the whole mess is finally in the slow-cooker, and I figure around 10:00 or so this morning, I'll cook up the pasta and have a nice lunch before I leave to go downtown.

I've since cleaned up the entire kitchen and ran the dishwasher, put that two-week-old load of whites in the washing machine, and even considered vacuuming before losing my motivation.

Once all those chores were done, I wandered down to the mailbox to see if my $600 'economic stimulus' check had arrived--I got my letter from the IRS on Saturday saying that it would be here this week. I figured that they'd deduct the balance of what I owe in back taxes, but that was less than $300, so I was looking forward to getting a little extra scratch from the gub-mint this month.

And there was a letter in the mailbox, unfortunately it wasn't one of those nifty brown envelopes that everyone knows is a check from Uncle Sugar. Nope, mine was a white legal-sized letter from the Department of the Treasury, saying that they applied my balance to the what I still owe to the Department of Education. I figured that might happen. So instead of four more years of student loan payments, I'm now down to three years and eleven months.

Woot. So much for stimulating the economy. Y'all can blame any recession on me--I'm just not doing my part.

On the bright side, I won't be getting any more mail from the IRS telling me to Pay Up, Bitch! They are now officially Off My Back. And once I finish off with the Dept. of Education in a few years, I'll finally stop feeling like Jody Foster in The Accused every month when I balance my checkbook.

Anyhow, I'm wide awake now, although I should probably try and get some sleep for a few hours. But that's impossible since both the washing machine and the world's loudest dishwasher are both running. And it just a few hours, I'll get to contend with the leaf blowers and the lawn mowers, too.

Mikey

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