Yeah, I'm workin' all the time.
I don't know why I'm still awake (it's after midnight, reeeeally early on a Saturday morning), and I'm bone-tired. I've had two extremely long days at the office, and I'm on-call again today. And before I left the poker room on Friday afternoon, my boss again said See ya tomorrow! to which I gave my standard reply -- But I'm on-call! And again she said Yeah -- I'll see ya tomorrow!
I guess that means I don't get the day off.
But before I worry about that, lets rewind to Thursday. I was dead asleep again that morning, when my phone went off, waking me up at 7:30 in the morning. Yep, instead of having the day off, they needed me to come in at 11:00. I wish they would've waited till about nine to make that call, but what can I do? Sleep was impossible after that, even as tired as I was. Coffee didn't help.
Luckily it was pretty busy when I got to the poker room, and even though I got worked like a Filipino hooker during Fleet Week, I made lots of cash. But man, when I finally got cut loose, I was tired, sweaty, and sick of looking at cards.
Just as I was making my way out of the poker room, I heard somebody yelling my name, but sadly, it wasn't a cocktail waitress. It was actually one of my lurkers, Kevin the Weatherman, stopping by to say hello.
We sat down at a bank of slot machines for a few minutes, when the thought struck me that I could really use a beer. So while I went back to clock out and ditch the polyester, Kevin secured us a booth at the main bar in the middle of the casino. A few minutes later we were happily sipping Newcastles and telling stories.
For some reason, that beer really hit the spot, and we had a couple of rounds while Kevin waited for mama to do her shopping or whatever it was she was up to. We had a nice visit, but he had to leave around six, as did I. (Don't be a stranger Kevin--the comments section is open!)
My first stop was to go track down Beth in her section--I knew she was coming in at six that night--and tell her that I made my manicure appointment for next week instead of the next day like we'd talked about. It only took me a couple of minutes to find her, because, you know, my hot-chick radar works pretty well, and we chatted for a few minutes before I had to hustle out of there. She had drinks to deliver and I had to be downtown 20 minutes later.
My plan for the evening was to meet Scottie and Alice-Leigh for dinner down at the Fremont at 6:30, which would be a neat trick, leaving from Henderson in rush hour traffic with only 20 minutes to get there. But my Grand Theft Auto-fu is strong, and I got downtown in record time, leaving minimal death and destruction in my wake.
I left the truck with the valet, and a few minutes later I found my peeps wandering about under the canopy like a couple of seasoned tourists. It was great to see them again, and we immediately decided to escape the heat and humidity and get to the restaurant.
Our destination for the evening was the Second Street Grill, which I'd heard great things about but had never visited. It was on the list, so we decided to give it a try. We didn't have reservations, but they were able to get us a table immediately, recognizing us as obvious high rollers.
We started out with some warm bread and butter, and they also gave us a small dish of what we assumed was hummus, but it greenish and had quite a zip to it. I just thought it was some sort of spicy baby food, but whatever it was, it was good. I believe some wine and a Bombay Sapphire martini might've made it to the table at that point, too.
I was pretty hungry, so I wanted an appetizer. They had something called a 'Tower of Seafood' which featured scallops and shrimp in some kind of funky Asian sauces, along with some veggies and crispy won ton skins for garnish. It was damn good. While I was munchin' on that, Scottie and Alice Leigh were enjoying their salads that came with their meal.
For entrees, they had a T-bone steak and an order of king crab legs, which came with a couple of good-sized baked potatoes. I, on the other hand, went full-on Pacific Rim and ordered the sesame encrusted mahi-mahi with crispy Sobe noodles and Asian veggies. It was really good, and the veggies were finely diced in a slightly spicy cream sauce, and the flavor combination worked better than I imagined. The fish was excellent--light and moist and I liked it even more than I thought I would.
I also had a glass of house chardonnay with my meal, and it complemented it perfectly, which was surprising for a six-dollar glass of vino.
All three of us raved about the food, sampling each others plates and enjoying all the different flavors. And even though we were getting pretty full by the time we finished dinner, we couldn't resist the charms of the dessert menu. We ordered some sort of 'chocolate explosion' thing and an order of profiteroles. Both were very good, but I'm not a huge fan of chocolate desserts, so I was happy eating the ice-cream stuffed puff pastry.
The biggest surprise of the night came when the tab arrived. For the three of us, with all that food, wine, appies, salads, and dessert, the total was less than $150. Quite a bargain, we felt, especially considering the quality of the food. We all agreed that we'd be going back again in the future--Second Street Grill was a nice find, and I think it'll go into the regular rotation whenever the buffoons are looking for a nice downtown meal.
After dinner, we wandered the casino for a bit, and found ourselves at a $5 dice table. Of course, Scottie and I couldn't roll for shiat, and lost about half of our buy-ins in quick order. Luckily there was another guy at the other end of the table who had quite a roll, making four or five passes, which brought us up to profitability. We probably could've made more, but we found out that the Fremont only offers double odds on their dice table. Not exactly player-friendly, but since we weren't really playing deep-stack craps, it didn't matter too much. We colored up for about a $40 profit each, hit the cage, and then headed across the street to Four Queens.
But just as we went outside, the Fremont light show was starting. I think the powers-that-be who are in charge of the light show have finally acknowledged all of the complaints, and it seems that they went back to the formula that works--familiar songs performed by the original artists, not crappy manufactured pop, thinly disguised as an LG commercial.
So we got to see a light show featuring Don McLean singing American Pie, which isn't exactly that cool on it's own, but when you couple it with hundreds of people on the street below, swaying to the music and singing along, it had a nice outdoor concert vibe going for a few minutes. I think that was the first light show I've actually enjoyed in years--I believe they're doing it right once again.
Once the light show ended, we hustled over to Chicago Brewing Company cigar lounge there at the Four Queens. We found a couple of comfy chairs in the corner and broke out the Partagas Black Labels. Alice Leigh went to hit the blackjack tables, while Scottie and I ordered a couple of microbrews before retreating into a cloud of smoke and congratulating ourselves on being masters of the universe.
We hung out there chatting, laughing, and telling stories until sometime past 11 pm. I was hitting the wall by that point, having put a long day behind me and facing another long one a few hours later. So we said our goodbyes and I made my way back home, dead asleep by midnight.
Although I knew I'd make good money on Friday, I wasn't really looking forward to the day--the bad beat jackpot still hadn't hit, and we were running some other free-money promotions guaranteed to fill up the room. I crawled back to the casino at 8:00 am, and was immediately locked down for the next five-and-a-half hours straight. That's right, it was so busy that I didn't get a break until 1:30 in the afternoon. All the tables were full and we had a waiting list two screens deep.
Overall, it was a pretty good day, and out of the hundreds of players I encountered throughout the day, I only had to deal with two douchebags, which is quite a feat for a busy poker room.
I almost had to work overtime, but at the last minute a couple of other dealers showed up early for their shifts, knowing we'd be slammed that day, and I managed to skate out after eight very long hours. But in the middle of the afternoon, there was a point where we were pushing seven tables in a row--which wouldn't be a problem if they issued us an astronaut suit as part of the official uniform, but again, my only 'break' was less than five minutes long when I ran to the restroom, got a fountain Coke, and cashed out my tokes just to make room in my pockets. At one point I had so many $1 chips that I couldn't fit anymore in my pockets--they were falling out of my pants on to the floor when I was sitting at the table, and whenever I'd bend over to reach across the table to push a pot, the chips in my shirt pocket would fall out, too. As far as problems go, it's not a bad one to have, but if my money was gonna come unstove, I'd rather it be the foldin' kind.
Once I called it a day, I was beat. I shuffled off to the truck like a zombie, too tired to do much of anything. I was tempted to stick around and play some poker instead of dealing it, but I needed to get out of there and escape the casino for awhile. On the way home, I stopped at the bank to deposit a few hundred bucks, then enjoyed a long invigorating shower. I thought I'd fall asleep right away, but I fought it.
I talked to Dougie for a bit, and we got into a $20 sit-n-go on PokerStars. We were in the T2V chatroom at the same time, telling each other when to fold and such, but at one point he raised just as I was telling him to fold--I had pocket Aces. He had pocket eights, and I had to raise because there was action behind me. Another guy went all-in, Dougie folded after losing just $300, and I went all-in myself. The other guy had pocket Jacks, so in one hand there were three pocket pairs dealt. Luckily I had the bullets that held up, so I was chip leader after that.
Dougie busted out with another pocket pair that didn't hold up, but I made it down to the money and finally took a bad-beat when it got heads up, giving me the second-place payout.
I played a couple more times after that, but kept getting ridiculous suck-outs against my hands so I gave up, bringing my account balance back down to even. I was pretty frustrated, so I entered a $50 tournament and got third place, which put another $90 in my account. That helped me sleep a little better.
Anyhow, I'm now rested and hoping that I'm able to stay away from work today. If that bad beat jackpot ever hits, I'll finally have a day off again. Granted, the money is very good right now, and I've got to make hay while the sun shines, but damn, I think my brain just needs a break from the poker room.
I'm out for now...
Mikey
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