Saturday, January 17, 2009
Just When I Thought I Was Out...
They pulled me back in!
Good morning everyone, especially you weekend re-clickers. Here it is an hour before my alarm is supposed to go off, and I'm wide awake. So I did what anyone else in my situation would do--I scrubbed the bathroom and put on a pot of coffee.
I've got to go deal that god-awful freeroll up at Texas Station in a few hours, and man, I am *not* looking forward to that. Spending my Saturday putting up with dipshiats for minimum wage? I might as well be wearing a nametag and hair net asking if they want fries with that.
Truly, I am the casino's bitch.
Oh well, I can put up with anything for a couple of days, so I might as well just grin and bear it.
Yesterday was kinda fun. Once I got home from work early in the morning, I switched on the TV with the volume down low and left it on AMC--they were running classic war movies so I figured I'd doze through Tora! Tora! Tora! and The Longest Day. I've seen those movies dozens of times apiece, and would probably toss out quotes from them in everyday conversation, except for the fact that it would reveal me to be an even bigger dork than people already believe.
But I forgot about one thing. Remember that whole scene in The Longest Day where the paratroopers are landing in St. Mere Eglise? Well, it's a lengthy scene and the church bells are ringing for a good five minutes straight, and that particular scene is louder than most of the rest of the film to add to the sense of mayhem. So I woke up all confused thinking it was like Easter or something.
Once I realized it was the TV, I clicked the volume down a notch and fell right back to sleep. But about an hour later I woke up again, this time because the next-door neighbor's car alarm was going off. And the jackass didn't go outside and turn it off for a good ten minutes. Seriously, WTF? I don't know how he couldn't have heard it.
Finally, I got back to sleep, but an hour later, it was my alarm that got me up. I showered and got dressed and such, then dozed on the couch downstairs waiting for Rick to show up.
He rang the doorbell around quarter to twelve, and we were on our way to Grimaldi's. He'd never been there before, so it was up to me to introduce him to the best pizza in Vegas.
Of course we were seated right away, ordered some drinks (Pepsi for him, Pellegrino for me), and carried on with our conversation. Not only did he stumble upon this site several months ago, but he coincidentally lives about a block away from me, too. So we both had some interesting stories to tell over our lunch of pepperoni/sausage and pepperoni/mushroom pies.
For whatever reason, it seemed like every person working in the restaurant was pushing the 'cheesecake of the month'--amaretto--because we got upsold by three different people. No thanks, we're just here for the pizza. But man, they just wouldn't let it go. Everybody that wandered by the table said something along the lines of Make sure you leave some room for the cheesecake, which led us to eventually believe that the shiat must be going bad and they needed to get rid of it...
Rick insisted on paying the tab, but since neither of us had any place we had to be yesterday, we got up from the table and migrated over to the bar once we finished eating. It was nice and sunny out, if just a bit cool, but nice enough to sit on the 'outside' area of the bar and have a couple of drinks. I believe we lingered there till sometime after two in the afternoon, chatting about poker and gambling, before calling it a day.
It was a nice visit and a great meal, and I think Rick will probably be joining up with us next time there's a gathering of buffoons in the neighborhood. And yeah, he's now a Grimaldi's convert, too.
When I got home, I talked to Dougie for a bit--he went kooky with the Hickory Farms website again. Apparently, they dropped their prices even further, so he told me he sent along another huge gift box that usually sells for $75, but it was on sale for just $12. Nice! So yeah, I'm loaded as far as football time snacks go. Too bad the season ends in two weeks. I guess I'll be enjoying cheese, crackers, and beefstick during the Daytona 500, too. But word around the campfire is that one of the big 4 lb. beefstick logs is gonna find it's way into Terry's nightstand at some point during March Madness.
After that phone call, I finally got a nap in. I didn't want to sleep too long, but I guess I did. I woke up around six or so, stumbled around a bit, drank a Captain and diet, then got onto the computer. I surfed over to the T2V site, and saw that a bunch of the buffoons were in the chatroom, so I logged in.
Sticky was also playing in a tournament on PokerStars, so I logged into the site to watch her while we chatted. Dougie suggested that we all get into a tournament together, so a few minutes later, Sticky, Dougie, Snert, and I were all registered for a cheapie 90-player sit-n-go.
It was lots of fun playing with those guys and doing all the smack-talk in the chatroom at the same time, and several times throughout the course of the tourney, we'd be at the same tables for a bit. We were doing really well, too, representin' the T2V gang. It got down to the final three tables, and all four of us were still chuggin' along. There was some fantasy-talk about how cool would it be if we all four made the final table, but not long after that, Dougie got knocked out by the mother of all bad beats. He flopped a flush, one card away from a straight flush, and went all in. He got one caller who had a high pair, but then went runner-runner to beat him with a full-house. It was awful. Sick. Just plain ugly. I felt bad for him for just a minute, but then realized that he had some poker Karma coming his way for all the bad beats I've seen him put on other people over the last few years, especially all the ones he's put on me. And then I was pissed because it wasn't me that sucked out on him. Heh.
Sticky also took a bad beat to get knocked out, although the details of the hand escape me at the moment. I missed the hand that got Snert, but I ended up being the sole survivor of the T2V gang and made it to the final table. I would've made a better showing but I accidentally folded a hand instead of calling a guy who went all-in. I'd flopped top set, and he had two pair. There was about a $12,000 pot going and it only would've cost me about $900 to call his all in, and I hit the wrong damn button on the computer. I would've knocked him out and added a big chunk of money to my stack, but I screwed up. Turns out that the guy outlasted me, and I went out in sixth place a little while later. Not bad for a field of 90 players. I haven't played that well in a long time, so it was nice to get back into the game.
Once the tourney ended, I stayed up chatting with everyone--March Madness fever has taken hold and the countdown is on. I finally called it a night around 11:00 or so and tried to get some sleep, knowing that I had to get up early this morning. I tossed and turned all night, having maybe gotten a little too much sleep the previous afternoon, but what's a brotha to do? I finally gave up around 4:00 am, turned on the light, made a pot of coffee, and got out the laptop.
But it's almost time to get ready and head off to the North Las Vegas ghetto--I haven't been up there since the Sled died on the side of the freeway over two years ago. I'll probably wave or something as I drive past the spot where the old green Lincoln took it's last breath.
Anyhow, I hope y'all have a wonderful Saturday, and think of me as you're doing enjoyable activities, as I'll be dealing a crummy tournament against my will. Damn The Man.
Posted by Hurricane Mikey at 7:30 AM