Frequent commenter and thorn-in-my side during the NFL season, T-Rev, was in town for the weekend, here to collect on our latest bet. He's a Seahawks fan, and of course I love my lowly Rams, so whenever they meet, we tend to make a wager or two. Since the Rams lost the last meeting, pizza and beer at Grimaldi's was on me.
I was actually looking forward to paying of this bet, because, frankly, dinner at Grimaldi's? Everybody wins! Also, another one of my commenters, Lynda Lu, was also in town for the NFR events, and wanted to meet up, too. So we organized a meet-up at my favorite pizza joint. Lars was also invited, but I don't know if he's been paroled yet, and Rick, my reader who flagged me down at the stoplight, was also invited to join, but he had already made other plans for the evening.
Anyhow, I figured I'd get down to the restaurant a few minutes early, sit at the bar and watch the Redskins game, and maybe sip on a rum concoction until folks showed up. So I got there about ten minutes early, and when I pulled in, I was kinda bummed to see that the outdoor portion of the bar was closed, and there was no patio seating available, either. (It's a little chilly here in Vegas this weekend).
So I wandered inside and grabbed a seat. No sooner had my Captain and Seven landed in front of me than I felt somebody's hand caressing my bald head. I sat up straight and said Man, I sure hope that's a chick rubbing my head... and then I turned around to see Alisa, Trev's wife, standing behind me and laughing. I didn't recognize her at first, since she was a brunette the last time I saw her, so for a split second, I was like OK! I still got it! but then I realized who it was. At least she let me down easy.
She told me that her and Trev had been there for over an hour and already had a table over in the corner. I looked up to see him waving at me. I wanted to go over and join them, but I'd forgotten to put Lynda's number in my phone, and since we'd never met, I told her I'd just meet her at the bar. So I was going to hang there at the bar for a couple minutes longer, but right then, Lynda walked up and said Hey, you must be Mikey!
So, with that obstacle cleared, we were free to head back to the table. When I got there, introductions were made, and there was another guy joining us, too--Trev and Alisa's neighbor Brian, who was also in town for the weekend. So there were five buffoons in attendance, enough for an official quorum.
It took us awhile to get dinner ordered, because not only were Trev, Alisa, and Brian from Seattle, but so was Lynda, and in the worst stroke of luck EVER, so was our waiter. Ugh. I had to endure a nonstop barrage of Seattle sports chat. Believe me, there is nothing more depressing.
Eventually, our attention turned to the menu, and we ordered some dinner. We figured on three large pies, just so we could get a good variety of tastes, and since it was on my dime, I wanted leftovers. For whatever reason, Alisa ordered some sort of small hippie pizza with pesto and goat cheese, but then we ordered a large ham and onion, a large pepperoni and mushroom, and succumbing to peer pressure, I agreed on a pepperoni, sausage, and mushroom one, too.
Of course we were enjoying some good cocktails too. Besides the rum drinks and girlie metropolitans, there was plenty of Peroni on draft and I think Lynda was going with Sam Adams Winterfest.
As you can probably imagine, my readers are a lively lot, so there was a spirited conversation going on at the table. But it came to a complete and screeching halt a few minutes later when the waiter came by and put a huge platter of Caesar salad in our midst.
Dead silence.
The waiter, sensing something was amiss, asked Didn't you guys order a Caesar?
There was a slight pause where nobody said anything, so I spoke up and offered Do we look like a bunch of salad eaters??? Check with those three chicks over there... as I pointed to a neighboring table. That brought a laugh, and yeah, the salad belonged to our neighbors.
The pizzas started arriving a few minutes later, and oh hell yeah they were good. Piping hot and cooked to perfection. All the Grimaldi's newbies were sufficiently impressed. (Lynda had been there once before, but thought highly enough of it to get a rental car this trip!)
A couple of pics:
Brian and Alisa pose in front of our half-eaten pepperoni and mushroom happiness pie. 
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. A ham and onion Grimaldi's pizza, T-Rev, and that hideous Seahawks jersey.Lynda isn't quite ready for internet fame and recognition, so her pictures are gonna stay in the vault for now. But you can see her right hand in the top picture. (Using a fork, too--Heathen!)
After we stuffed ourselves silly on pizza, we had enough leftovers to fill up a large box, and I instructed the servers to put the leftover hippie pizza in it's own box, because as Suzette can attest, nobody seems to like the smell of goat. While that was happening, the bill arrived, and somehow, between the five of us, we managed to run up a bill of $175. That's gotta be a new record!
Before we left, Lynda decided to present me with a gift--she felt bad about me not being able to get back to Nashville for the holidays, so she found a good combo of Nashville and Christmas, and gave me a Faith Hill Christmas CD. And since she's such a faithful reader of my site, she knew about my coconut fetish, too, and I got a small package of Ethel M's coconut infused chocolates. Oh hell yeah! That was awfully nice, I thought.
We decided to head back over to the MGM Grand after dinner--Lynda was staying there, and we figured we could play some Pai Gow or something, or maybe find a place to hole up and have some cocktails. And since Lynda was a Pai Gow virgin, we thought she should be deflowered in a respectable joint.
Unfortunately, when we got there, there were only two tables available. One had a $50 minimum, and the other one had a $200 minimum. That wasn't going to work. In the meantime, we sat at a $15 blackjack shoe table, but once through was enough to tell us that blackjack wasn't our game that evening.
About that time, we decided to head to New York New York to find some more reasonable limits on Pai Gow. Of course, we couldn't walk across the bridge without taking pictures, so here ya go:
By the time we got over to NYNY, Alisa had had enough of our antics for the evening (actually, she doesn't like to gamble much, and the shopping choices were somewhat limited by that time), so she decided to head back to theEvil Roman Empire. Brian had to go back to his room, too, and do an overseas conference call for work (it was Monday morning in India), so they left me, Trev, and Lynda to find our own brand of buffoonery.
We wandered the casino a bit, and I've got to tell ya, I *really* don't like the new look of NYNY. The inside is completely different--they took out all the trees and anything that gave it that distinctive NY flavor. Now, it looks just like Planet Hollywood on the inside--all modern and Euro-trashy. Not that it's bad, or ugly, but damn, it's already been done everywhere else. It kinda looks like the interior designer was the teacher's pet in geometry class and then slept through art class.
I found my gal Justyna working the pit, and asked her where we could find some Pai Gow tables--they were on the other side of the under-construction bar that was going up in the middle of the pit. A few minutes later, we found three open seats and each bought in.
Lynda picked up on the theory of Pai Gow in record time, so after like two hands, she was good to go. And we started out ok, but after awhile, it was all downhill. It seemed like the dealer always had at least a pair of Aces. And when I couldn't win with a full house, I knew that it wasn't my night for Kung Fu poker. We stuck around and ground it out for over an hour, but it was a losing battle. At some point, Lynda snapped a picture of me drinking my hot chocolate with peppermint Schnapps, which made the dealer come damn near unglued. Seriously--is there nothing more pleasing to the ear than the sound of an angry Chinese woman?
By that time, we had realized that the dealer was kind of a bizatch anyways, so we didn't care what she had to say. The floorman didn't mind, and we weren't taking pictures of the table or other players, so we pretty much ignored her and snapped our pictures.
Since the dealer was kind of a piece of shiat, and we were losing anyways, we decided to go play craps instead. I needed to hit the head and the ATM first, so I took a quick detour. I guess I hit the wrong ATM, though, as it gave me $80 in five-dollar bills. That's never happened before.
There were three open dice tables going, so we wandered over to the furthest one and took our spots at the empty end of a $10 game. A guy at the the other end was shooting pretty well, and we got off to a good start.
A few minutes later, and older couple walked up and tried to shoehorn two bodies in the space meant for one body on my left. The lady got all indignant with me, telling me to move over, so I told her that 1) I was there first and preferred the spot I was already in, and 2) there were three other dice tables available with nobody on them with plenty of space for both her and her husband.
She kept chattering and muttering under her breath about how I was in her spot, but I didn't move. So her and her husband kind of stood sideways there, insisting on squeezing into one spot on a relatively empty dice table (there were only five other players at the entire table). Since she decided to take the rude route, it became a battle of wills at that point, so I wasn't going to move an inch. She kept talking, but I didn't budge.
Then, a couple minutes later, she threw a $5 chip out in the middle and told the dealer that she wanted a Whirl Bet, but the dealer placed it on the Yo. At the same time Trev threw out a $5 chip asking for a Yo, also. The very next roll of the dice was 11, so the line was paid. A succesful Yo bet pays 15-to-1, so Trev's bet was worth $75. Nice. But then the stickman pointed to the lady next to me and told the base dealer to pay her $75. She didn't say anything, so I spoke up and said Hey dealer, she asked for a Whirl Bet, that only pays $11. Heh.
Holy shiat--she immediately lost her mind!
Normally, I wouldn't say anything, but since she was being such a bitch, I called her out. Of course she told me to mind my own business, so I responded with Oh, so you're trying to take a shot at the game? Is that the kind of person you are??? Her husband then started in, so Trev to him to can it, and then IT WAS ON!
They started screaming at us, and the old man threatened to kick my ass or something, so I looked at Trev and we started laughing, and I started into my best Frank Costanza voice with You wanna piece of ME old man?!?!?!???
Then the boxman finally spoke up and said that maybe Trev and I should play at the other end of the table. We responded with No thanks, we were here first, we're the only ones tipping your dealers, and we're not the ones taking a shot at your game. He agreed with that and didn't say anything about it except to tell the old farts to chill out.
They kept at it, but I just stared straight ahead, ignoring them, but then then they directed their ire at Trev. Eventually, they gave up and left the table, and everyone else was like WTF was their problem?
I just shrugged and said I think I was in her spot. That got a chuckle from the boxman, and we had a peaceful game after that. Unfortunately, the table was so choppy that none of us could get anything going, and it was all downhill. It was just a grind by then, and we were losing. Lots of point-seven-out. Ugh.
After about another half hour or so, we decided to give up and move on. Since we were feeling no love at NYNY, we decided to go back over to the MGM Grand. I was finished with gambling for the night, and Lynda had had enough of the table games, as did T-Rev. I had a couple of Partagas Black Labels in my shirt pocket, so we headed over to the Zuri Lounge to find a spot to relax. Lynda wasn't much into cigars and playing Spot The Hooker, so she went to play some slots while Trev and I ordered some cocktails--Woodford Reserve for him, Grand Marnier for me.
It was great to just sit and chill for awhile. We saw a few working gals, but nothing that would make a good story. I guess it was an off night. Instead, we concentrated on our waitress's black thigh high stockings every time she walked by, which brought back fond memories of that gal I took to the U2 concert back in 1992. Seriously. My kingdom for a time machine...
Anyhow, after about a half hour or so, Lynda came by to say goodnight. She managed to turn ten bucks into over a hundred, and decided that was a good place to stop. So we said our goodbyes and she headed up to her room to pack--her flight leaves in just a few hours.
But Trev and I were troopers--we hung out there for a good long time. Eventually, my phone started ringing, and I had a momentary panic attack--I thought work was calling me in, but no, it was just Brian, asking where we were. His conference call ended, and he was at the Hilton, seeing if we were still out. So we told him to come on back, as we'd be there awhile.
When I hung up the phone, I got a message that I had a new voicemail. I thought that was odd, so I called to hear my messages. In the weirdest coincidence of the night, the poker room was actually calling at the exact same moment Brian was, and the floorman left me a message. How odd is that? Anyhow, I didn't have to go in, but the floorman was cool enough to call me and tell me that the games were breaking and that he wouldn't need me later. Whew. As much as I'd like to pick up another shift, I wasn't in the mood to do one right then.
Brian eventually showed up, but Trev was hitting the wall shortly after that. We had enough time for one more round (well, they did--I was driving), and then we headed out. It was freezing cold outside at the valet, but we didn't have to wait too long. We somehow managed to all squeeze into my truck, and made our way down to Caesars, where we said our farewells until next time.
I came straight home and went to bed, but since my laptop is sitting here where my pillow should be, I decided that this post was more important than sleep.
Why? Because I'm a giver, that's why.
I'm going to bed now. Don't know when I'll get up, but the over/under is 3:00 pm. That's nine hours from now.
I'm feeling lazy. Take the over.
Mikey
After we stuffed ourselves silly on pizza, we had enough leftovers to fill up a large box, and I instructed the servers to put the leftover hippie pizza in it's own box, because as Suzette can attest, nobody seems to like the smell of goat. While that was happening, the bill arrived, and somehow, between the five of us, we managed to run up a bill of $175. That's gotta be a new record!
Before we left, Lynda decided to present me with a gift--she felt bad about me not being able to get back to Nashville for the holidays, so she found a good combo of Nashville and Christmas, and gave me a Faith Hill Christmas CD. And since she's such a faithful reader of my site, she knew about my coconut fetish, too, and I got a small package of Ethel M's coconut infused chocolates. Oh hell yeah! That was awfully nice, I thought.
We decided to head back over to the MGM Grand after dinner--Lynda was staying there, and we figured we could play some Pai Gow or something, or maybe find a place to hole up and have some cocktails. And since Lynda was a Pai Gow virgin, we thought she should be deflowered in a respectable joint.
Unfortunately, when we got there, there were only two tables available. One had a $50 minimum, and the other one had a $200 minimum. That wasn't going to work. In the meantime, we sat at a $15 blackjack shoe table, but once through was enough to tell us that blackjack wasn't our game that evening.
About that time, we decided to head to New York New York to find some more reasonable limits on Pai Gow. Of course, we couldn't walk across the bridge without taking pictures, so here ya go:
By the time we got over to NYNY, Alisa had had enough of our antics for the evening (actually, she doesn't like to gamble much, and the shopping choices were somewhat limited by that time), so she decided to head back to the
We wandered the casino a bit, and I've got to tell ya, I *really* don't like the new look of NYNY. The inside is completely different--they took out all the trees and anything that gave it that distinctive NY flavor. Now, it looks just like Planet Hollywood on the inside--all modern and Euro-trashy. Not that it's bad, or ugly, but damn, it's already been done everywhere else. It kinda looks like the interior designer was the teacher's pet in geometry class and then slept through art class.
I found my gal Justyna working the pit, and asked her where we could find some Pai Gow tables--they were on the other side of the under-construction bar that was going up in the middle of the pit. A few minutes later, we found three open seats and each bought in.
Lynda picked up on the theory of Pai Gow in record time, so after like two hands, she was good to go. And we started out ok, but after awhile, it was all downhill. It seemed like the dealer always had at least a pair of Aces. And when I couldn't win with a full house, I knew that it wasn't my night for Kung Fu poker. We stuck around and ground it out for over an hour, but it was a losing battle. At some point, Lynda snapped a picture of me drinking my hot chocolate with peppermint Schnapps, which made the dealer come damn near unglued. Seriously--is there nothing more pleasing to the ear than the sound of an angry Chinese woman?
By that time, we had realized that the dealer was kind of a bizatch anyways, so we didn't care what she had to say. The floorman didn't mind, and we weren't taking pictures of the table or other players, so we pretty much ignored her and snapped our pictures.
Since the dealer was kind of a piece of shiat, and we were losing anyways, we decided to go play craps instead. I needed to hit the head and the ATM first, so I took a quick detour. I guess I hit the wrong ATM, though, as it gave me $80 in five-dollar bills. That's never happened before.
There were three open dice tables going, so we wandered over to the furthest one and took our spots at the empty end of a $10 game. A guy at the the other end was shooting pretty well, and we got off to a good start.
A few minutes later, and older couple walked up and tried to shoehorn two bodies in the space meant for one body on my left. The lady got all indignant with me, telling me to move over, so I told her that 1) I was there first and preferred the spot I was already in, and 2) there were three other dice tables available with nobody on them with plenty of space for both her and her husband.
She kept chattering and muttering under her breath about how I was in her spot, but I didn't move. So her and her husband kind of stood sideways there, insisting on squeezing into one spot on a relatively empty dice table (there were only five other players at the entire table). Since she decided to take the rude route, it became a battle of wills at that point, so I wasn't going to move an inch. She kept talking, but I didn't budge.
Then, a couple minutes later, she threw a $5 chip out in the middle and told the dealer that she wanted a Whirl Bet, but the dealer placed it on the Yo. At the same time Trev threw out a $5 chip asking for a Yo, also. The very next roll of the dice was 11, so the line was paid. A succesful Yo bet pays 15-to-1, so Trev's bet was worth $75. Nice. But then the stickman pointed to the lady next to me and told the base dealer to pay her $75. She didn't say anything, so I spoke up and said Hey dealer, she asked for a Whirl Bet, that only pays $11. Heh.
Holy shiat--she immediately lost her mind!
Normally, I wouldn't say anything, but since she was being such a bitch, I called her out. Of course she told me to mind my own business, so I responded with Oh, so you're trying to take a shot at the game? Is that the kind of person you are??? Her husband then started in, so Trev to him to can it, and then IT WAS ON!
They started screaming at us, and the old man threatened to kick my ass or something, so I looked at Trev and we started laughing, and I started into my best Frank Costanza voice with You wanna piece of ME old man?!?!?!???
Then the boxman finally spoke up and said that maybe Trev and I should play at the other end of the table. We responded with No thanks, we were here first, we're the only ones tipping your dealers, and we're not the ones taking a shot at your game. He agreed with that and didn't say anything about it except to tell the old farts to chill out.
They kept at it, but I just stared straight ahead, ignoring them, but then then they directed their ire at Trev. Eventually, they gave up and left the table, and everyone else was like WTF was their problem?
I just shrugged and said I think I was in her spot. That got a chuckle from the boxman, and we had a peaceful game after that. Unfortunately, the table was so choppy that none of us could get anything going, and it was all downhill. It was just a grind by then, and we were losing. Lots of point-seven-out. Ugh.
After about another half hour or so, we decided to give up and move on. Since we were feeling no love at NYNY, we decided to go back over to the MGM Grand. I was finished with gambling for the night, and Lynda had had enough of the table games, as did T-Rev. I had a couple of Partagas Black Labels in my shirt pocket, so we headed over to the Zuri Lounge to find a spot to relax. Lynda wasn't much into cigars and playing Spot The Hooker, so she went to play some slots while Trev and I ordered some cocktails--Woodford Reserve for him, Grand Marnier for me.
It was great to just sit and chill for awhile. We saw a few working gals, but nothing that would make a good story. I guess it was an off night. Instead, we concentrated on our waitress's black thigh high stockings every time she walked by, which brought back fond memories of that gal I took to the U2 concert back in 1992. Seriously. My kingdom for a time machine...
Anyhow, after about a half hour or so, Lynda came by to say goodnight. She managed to turn ten bucks into over a hundred, and decided that was a good place to stop. So we said our goodbyes and she headed up to her room to pack--her flight leaves in just a few hours.
But Trev and I were troopers--we hung out there for a good long time. Eventually, my phone started ringing, and I had a momentary panic attack--I thought work was calling me in, but no, it was just Brian, asking where we were. His conference call ended, and he was at the Hilton, seeing if we were still out. So we told him to come on back, as we'd be there awhile.
When I hung up the phone, I got a message that I had a new voicemail. I thought that was odd, so I called to hear my messages. In the weirdest coincidence of the night, the poker room was actually calling at the exact same moment Brian was, and the floorman left me a message. How odd is that? Anyhow, I didn't have to go in, but the floorman was cool enough to call me and tell me that the games were breaking and that he wouldn't need me later. Whew. As much as I'd like to pick up another shift, I wasn't in the mood to do one right then.
Brian eventually showed up, but Trev was hitting the wall shortly after that. We had enough time for one more round (well, they did--I was driving), and then we headed out. It was freezing cold outside at the valet, but we didn't have to wait too long. We somehow managed to all squeeze into my truck, and made our way down to Caesars, where we said our farewells until next time.
I came straight home and went to bed, but since my laptop is sitting here where my pillow should be, I decided that this post was more important than sleep.
Why? Because I'm a giver, that's why.
I'm going to bed now. Don't know when I'll get up, but the over/under is 3:00 pm. That's nine hours from now.
I'm feeling lazy. Take the over.
Mikey
No comments:
Post a Comment