Attention Hurricane Mikey readers... We will now return you to your regularly scheduled program of timely updates and constant complaining about not having enough work to do.
Thank you, that is all.
Oh man, it's hard to think about where to even begin. My last three days have been a whirlwind, and my memory is a complete blur. It's almost like I had one of those old-skool weekends in Vegas made famous with my original Phoenix crew, but with a couple of work shifts sprinkled in, too.
But here's the quick and dirty: The jackpot finally hit on Friday morning around 5:30 am down at Boulder Station, and no, I wasn't working or playing at the time. I believe the players' share was about $1900+ for everyone who was still up playing at the time, but I'd picked up and cashed out about two hours earlier. I was blissfully asleep and unaware until 12 hours later. But I'm not too disappointed for missing it. I've been on an absolute heater at the poker table this week--I've pocketed a small fortune in profit in the past 56 hours or so, playing no limit (and even a little bit of 4-8 while waiting for a seat), not to mention the banana-chip worth of tokes I've earned while sitting in the box. It's been a damn good week.
But now that the jackpot has been reset, there's gonna be a lot of poker fatigue in this town, so things are gonna be slow for a few weeks. On one hand, that's good--I'll be able to get some sleep and I won't be shuffling around like a zombie for days on end. On the other hand, well, I'll be sweatin' the money again. Unless, of course, I can keep up the torrid pace at the table. Last summer, I made all my money in the tournaments, but right now I'm on a roll in the cash games. And I'll be honest--playing cash games is a little more nerve-wracking than tournaments. In a tourney, I can easily make a ten-thousand dollar bet, subconsciously knowing that if I'm wrong, it'll only cost me about a hundred bucks in real money. But playing no-limit, if I'm in a 1-2 game and I'm wrong about a $250 bet, well, I'm thinking to myself Shiat, that's all the money you made in the past six hours, are you sure your top pair is good? And I'm still a little too conservative, too, because once I double up, my first thought is to rack up and cash out.
Anyhow, enough of the philosophy--lets get to the travelogue. I've got a full pot of coffee in front of me and six hours of sleep behind me. I can do this.
If I recall correctly, I worked a split shift on Tuesday. I went in at 1:00 am, but the game broke just two hours later, so I came straight back home and went to bed. Early that afternoon, once I woke up, I called back in to find out when I worked again, because I'd forgotten to look at the schedule (I was used to just getting called in every day, so schedule or no, I was there all the time). I wasn't scheduled again until Friday morning at 9:00 am, but the boss was the one who answered the phone and she asked me if I'd be willing to work a split and come in that evening. Of course, I'm the poker room crack whore when it comes to picking up a shift, so I jumped on it. As I recall, it was a very long and profitable night, and when I finally got out of there the next morning, it was like Dead Man Walkin'.
Once I got up and out of bed on Wednesday, I spent an hour writing that last real post y'all read, then I showered up and made myself pretty, and headed over to the Omelet House to see Marcie and get some lunch. We had a nice visit, and if I recall, I had a pretty decent patty melt for lunch, along with a good bowl of chicken-noodle soup. I was still kinda tired and out of it, and once lunch was done, I headed over to the new Target over on Lake Mead Pkwy and did some shopping. I needed to get some cleaning supplies and toiletries, a can of compressed air and some other office supplies.
To illustrate just how tired and out of it I was, once I paid, I pushed the empty shopping cart all the way out to my truck before I realized that all of my purchases were still sitting at the end of the checkstand--the cashier hadn't put them in the cart, and I never noticed. Duh! So I went back in, tried to unobtrusively grab my stuff, and then sheepishly headed back out. I guess four hours of sleep just wasn't enough, so you know how I spent the balance of the afternoon.
When I woke up again, I called the poker room to see what time they'd need me that night, but I got the word that I was free and clear for the evening--for whatever reason, it was slower than usual and there were enough dealers on hand already. So I figured that if I wasn't going to deal the jackpot, I may as well get down there and try for a piece of it. Dressed I got, out the door I went.
I wanted to play no-limit, but the game was full, so I killed time at a 4-8 game for an hour or so. Surprisingly, I managed to make $120 while I waited for a seat to open up, and then when I finally got over to the no-limit game, I made another $200 in the two hours I was sitting there. One of my buddies, Brooklyn Joey, came in and joined the game, and we had a lot of laughs while sitting there playing. I swear, all of my good poker stories as of late star this guy. I don't know what it is, but whenever we play together, there are fireworks at the table and something funny always happens. And he gives me shiat all the time saying that I crush him whenever I'm dealing, but this week, I've crushed him while playing, too. But Wednesday night, we both did well.
Around 10 o'clock or so, I was getting hungry, as was he. Since we had both doubled up, we decided to go get some food. I'd introduced him and another buddy to Sierra Gold the week before, and they loved the food there, so it was an easy decision on where to go get our grub on.
The weather here in Vegas has been completely shiatty this week--cold, rainy, overcast, windy--just a crummy winter weather system has been lingering over the valley for days. Soup weather, I like to call it, and the only benefit of it is that it keeps the panhandlers at bay. So when we got to the bar, my dinner decision was an easy one--I had a pint o' Guinness and a sourdough bread bowl full of clam chowder to warm me up. Oh, and I had the munchies at the time, so I ordered some popcorn shrimp with Asian BBQ sauce, too. Joey did the bread bowl thing too, but went with chili. And he also got some sort of turkey/avocado panini sandwich, too.
All I can say is, Damn--the food at Sierra Gold is so frickin' good! I've never had anything bad there. It's easily the best bar food in all of Vegas. That sourdough bread bowl was amazingly good--and they toast the little crown part on the top, so you got a little 'crunchewy' going on to dip in the soup as you eat. So good! And I've had about five different varieties of the popcorn shrimp in the past month, and all of them are great. Neither one of us could finish our meals, but we gave it the ol' college try. It was so good that we wanted to finish, but one can only hold so much before throwing in the towel.
After dinner, we thought about going to play some more cards (at least that was my plan), but Joey wanted to roll the bones, and he was driving anyways, so we ended up at the $3 dice table at the Flea-esta. Unfortunately, I have nothing good to report about that visit--we stood at that table for an hour and a half, and I lost a couple hundred bucks while Joey lost three. It sucked completely. Three times in a row I went point-seven-out, my worst showing at the dice table in years.
Yeah, good call on playing craps Joe, I told him as we both went broke at the same time. We left, frustrated, pretty sure that we won't be going back to the Fiesta anytime soon. There was however, one good laugh while we were there. The stickman in the game was trying to make conversation, and kept asking me where he knew me from. For a number of reasons, I don't like to tell people where I work, so I kept putting the guy off. He just wouldn't get the hint, and kept after me. I didn't want to be rude and say It's none of your business, especially at a full table, but he was like a dog with a bone and wouldn't let it go. Finally, after about fifteen minutes of him badgering me about where he knew me from, he said, again, Dude--I *know* I know you from somewhere--where is it???
Well, how much porn do you watch? I asked.
Heh. The whole table cracked up and he finally got the hint. Anyhow, that was the only high point of our little field trip to the Flea-esta. Since the 10-20 at the Chesterfield was so far out of our way, we decided to head back to the scene of the crime and hit that juicy no-limit game again. When we got back at around 1:30 in the morning, the table had broke and there was nothing but a shorthanded 4-8 game going. And it was on life-support, too, as the floorman was even in the game, trying to keep it going until 4:00 am.
In what appears to be a cost-saving measure in these lean times, the new rule in our poker room is that if the game goes dark before four in the morning, the room closes until seven--we won't get any players again until the old guys show up for their morning limpfest, so the house doesn't want to pay a floorman to sit around, watch tv, and 'guard' the room for several hours. But if the game makes it past four o'clock, then the floorman gets his full shift in, regardless of what happens then. If everyone splits at 4:15, no biggie, the room stays open. So the motivation is to keep the game going and the rake dropping until at least 4:01.
On the other hand, from a player's perspective, Joey and I wanted to play just because there were so few other games going on that we figured if the jackpot hit, the players' share would be HUGE, so we bought in for a hundred each.
Unfortunately, my mojo was gone by that point. I couldn't get anything to work for me. I never made any of my draws, my big pairs never held up, and even though there was a lot of action (*huge* pots), I couldn't seem to get out of the mud. By 3:45 or so, I was down $160 in the game. I wanted to leave, but the floorman (who also happens to be a friend of mine--I watched the Superbowl at his house last week) was giving me a look like Dude--stay with me for a few minutes... Yep, the game was shorthanded, and if I would've left, Joey would've left too, and that would've killed the action completely and shuttered the room for the night. So I gave a sigh and asked for another $60 worth of chips. There was no way I'd lose that in fifteen minutes.
Luckily, we made it past the magic deadline, and the floorman got his hours in. Not only that, he caught a monster and made about $250 in the game. There was also a moment of drama when Joey had Jacks full of Aces and lost to four Aces, not quite enough of a hand to win the in-house jackpot, and after the hand was over and the six-pound pot was pushed, the dealer flashed the next card in the deck, and it was the case jack.
Holy Shiat! Had that card been one spot higher in the deck and come out on the river, we would've hit the jackpot right then and there. Joey would've had four Jacks and lost to four Aces, and would've gotten $45,000. Damn--so close! The floorman checked the computer at the desk to see how many other players there were all across the city at the time, and we figured that had we hit the jackpot right then on that hand, we would've each gotten $3900+ per person, in addition to Joey and the other guy getting paid 45K and 30K, respectively. Like I said--so close.
But on the very next hand, I got four Aces, and Joey, like a buffoon, kept betting into me like he had the Aces. The action was capped on every betting round, and of course, I was acting my ass off, like Brando in The Godfather, and nobody at the table had me on four Aces. Seriously, they had no clue, and he kept saying, as he'd bet and raise, Save your money, this one is no good, I've got the Aces this time, etc etc etc... I kept slowing down, asking for time, acting like it was the toughest decision in the world, and I let him believe that I had low set on the board, giving me a small full house. When the showdown came, and I rolled over the Aces, the table went absolutely apeshiat, and Joey had the most awesome stunned look on his face.
Dude, there was no f*ckin' way I you had Aces on that hand... was all he could muster, and I raked a hundred-dollar pot. Heh.
We finally called it a night at 6:30 in the morning, but I was still stuck a hundred bucks for the session. That kinda sucked. But after everyone cashed out and left, the floorman (who racked up over $200 in profit that night) tossed me back $35, and the dealer, who had been locked down all night and made out like an absolute bandit, insisted on giving me forty bucks, too. I didn't want to take the money, but they both were thanking me for sticking around and keeping the game going and insisted that I take it--had I left, neither one of them would've had a good night, so it all worked out for the best. That session ended up costing me only $25 after all was said and done.
Before I left, the floorman casually tossed out the 'Hey, which session of today's meeting are you going to?' question.
Meeting? What meeting? Crap--I had no idea about a meeting, but yep, up there behind the desk on the schedule clipboard, which I hadn't looked at in a week, was a memo about a department meeting on Thursday at three different times during the day, and I needed to attend one of them. I figured the 3 pm one would work for me, giving me enough time to get some sleep before driving back down to the casino again.
I came home just ahead of the sunrise, and went straight to bed--no shower or anything--I was that exhausted. It had been a very long night. I woke up again at 1:30 in the afternoon, made a quick post, got dressed, hit the Listerine and the body spray on the way out the door, and headed back to the casino.
My meeting lasted just over an hour, and when it was over I got with the boss to schedule the last of my vacation days I had on the books from when I was still a full-timer. I'm now officially off during the March Madness/wedding weekend, and I have two more days to burn before the first of May. My boss just suggested that I hold on to them and she'll pay me two vacation days right after the jackpot hits--it'll be so slow that I won't be working anyways, so I might as well get a couple of days paid. I thought that was a good idea, so I went with it.
By this time, it was Thursday afternoon, and since I was scheduled to work on Friday morning, I *knew* I wouldn't have to work that night. Besides, the night before was pretty slow. So after the meeting was over, I went back to the poker room to see if I couldn't get into the 1-2 no-limit game. But the room was packed, and there was a waiting list. The floorman suggested I kill time at the 4-8 game in case the jackpot hit somewhere else, so I could get a share, so I did that.
I wasn't at the table for ten minutes, when he came and got me and asked me to come up to the desk.
Apparently, they were short of dealers again, and asked if I'd be willing to work that night. Of course I would, but I was scheduled in the morning. But he said if he could find one of the old guys on extra board to take the morning shift the next day, then he'd probably have me work a swing shift that night. No problem I said, but it wasn't set in stone just yet--it wasn't even 5:00 pm yet, and they still had a couple of dealers scheduled to come in at six. On the other hand, I couldn't sit and have a beer while I played, in case of the off chance they'd need me to work. So I had one sip of Amber Bock before the conversation took place, and then I had to have the waitress take it away and bring me bottled water for the next couple of hours.
While I waited, I finally got into the no limit game and managed to make another $160 before they called me up to the desk again. It was 7:15 and they wanted me to be back by eight. It was getting crazy busy, and they'd found somebody to take my morning shift on Friday, so I cashed out. I left ten bucks for the dealer, ten bucks for the floorman, and took my $140 profit and ran home to change. I didn't have time to shower or shave, so I was looking kinda rugged, but I managed to make that quick 'salt mines' update before heading back down to the casino, AGAIN.
My night was a complete blur. I worked pretty much non-stop until 1:30 in the morning, and by then it was down to just three games and five dealers, so they cut me loose. Still waiting for the jackpot and knowing that I was running good, I clocked out, changed my shirt, got $200 worth of chips, and immediately sat back down in the no-limit game that I'd just finished dealing.
On my very first hand, I got pocket Aces.
Wow. Even better, one of the other guys at the table was building my pot for me, so I just called his $30 pre-flop raise, as did two other people. When the flop came out Ace-King-Rag rainbow, I was doing the naked happy muppet dance in my head. Since there was already over $120 in the pot, the original raiser went all-in, and I put him on Ace-King. Of course, with top set, I went all-in, also. The other two players dropped out, and I was right. Unless he got running Kings, he was drawing all but dead. It didn't happen, my set held up, and I was suddenly sitting there with over $500 in chips in front of me. Not bad for sitting down less than a two minutes earlier.
Of course, I donked off a hundred a few minutes later with Queen-Jack on a Jack-high board when my opponent turned over King-Jack, but I was still good.
Then, the hand of the night happened. I was in middle position, and Joey raised it up to $25 from under the gun. I looked down to see pocket Queens staring back up at me, so I re-raised it to fifty bucks. The button called, as did Joey. The flop came out 5-5-7, with two hearts.
Trouble.
Joey immediately shoved all-in for $274. Now, I hadn't been at the table but for about a half hour, and was thinking, Well, if push all-in, I can take down a six-hundred dollar pot, or if I lose, I'll be just short of even. I wasn't too scared of Joey, knowing that he pushes with junk a lot of times, but the guy behind me, I thought he might've had pocket Kings, and I really wanted him to think I had Aces. He was staring at me, trying to get a read. But he started talking, and he said what I was thinking--I'm not scared of you Joe, but Mikey might have something... Basically, we both put Joey on junk, but we were scared of each other. There were only two hands that could beat me, so I went in the tank for a few minutes. I had to Hollywood it a bit and make him believe I had the bullets, so I said to Joey, (and the other guy, indirectly) Unless you're playing that Ace-Five garbage, I've got you smoked--I have a monster. I'm all in!
That's all it took, and the guy behind me, who oh by the way had me covered, thought for about two seconds and then mucked his pocket Jacks, saying You've got Aces, don't you Mikey?
Damn. I should've acted weaker and gotten him to call. But that shows what little I know--I had him on Kings.
Anyhow, the turn was a blank and the river was a Queen, giving me a boat. Since I called Joey, I made him show his hand, even though I could tell by the look on his face that he was beaten. I just had to see what he pushed with. He had pocket fours.
He went to the ATM to reload, while I spent the next several minutes stacking chips. As he headed towards the cage, he yelled back, Your ass is buying me breakfast at Sierra Gold with my money!
Heh. I was ok with that.
I played for another hour or so, but I was just beat. I'd been there at the casino for over 12 hours, minus a quick trip home to change clothes, so I was basically snoozing at the table between hands.
Around 3:00 am, I lost a hundred bucks when my Ace-King ran into pocket Kings when a King hit the flop, and the floorman called me over. He was looking at the schedule for Friday night and said that it was highly likely that I'd be called in again, and maybe I should take the money and run instead of sleeping at the table and donkeying off a hundred at a time to the short stacks like I'd just done.
Good advice. I cashed out with a rack of red to show for my efforts, and Joey got up too. That killed the game, but then I realized that the floorman only had two dealers and one of them was about to go on overtime, so he needed a game to go down. Both tables were shorthanded anyways, so the diehards moved over to fill up the 4-8 game. Pretty slick advice...
I was dead on my feet, but yeah, I was hungry. I hadn't eaten anything all day but half a club sandwich I shared with the lady I was sitting next to at the 4-8 table twelve hours earlier. Joey of course was gonna hold me to my promise of picking up the tab at Sierra Gold, so off we went. We both pissed away $40 each chasing their $26,000+ video poker progressive jackpot, just so our beers would be 'free'. Of course, as soon as the pints of Peroni landed in front of us, a couple of Henderson cops wandered in to do their paperwork. I hate that... I mean, I don't mind having the cops around, especially when I've got a pocket full of Benjamins, but I always feel like they're watching to see who's driving. So of course, it was just one beer for me and bottled water the rest of the way.
Unable to finish both a bread bowl and a serving of popcorn shrimp the night before, I just ordered the clam chowder bread bowl by itself. Joey, knowing that he wasn't paying, ordered the same thing, plus a chicken Parmesan panini and a Caesar salad. F*cker.
Just kiddin'... I didn't mind in the least, and he actually gave me half the sandy. Of course it was so damn good that we both just sat there grunting with satisfaction as we stuffed our faces. And again, there was no way we could finish, but I got a little further this time.
But I was just wiped out. I was feelin' all funkified too--I hadn't had a shower or shave in two days, I'd been up for about 16 hours by then, and was still tired from my very long week. We didn't hang out and drink--too many cops in the room, so as soon as we finished eating, I paid the tab and we split. I drove Joey back to his truck, and I headed home, looking forward to a half-hour long steaming hot shower and eight hours of sack time. I was so exhausted that I could hardly see straight, and the staircase up to my bedroom seemed like the last obstacle of the day.
I peeled off all the nasty clothes and got ready for the shower when I suddenly panicked. Where was my wallet? It wasn't in my pocket. It wasn't in my jacket pocket either.
F*ck!
I had just got all them nasty clothes off, so I put some shorts and a t-shirt on and ran back down to the truck, thinking it was either laying in the driveway, or sitting on the drivers' seat. Nope. Nowhere to be found. That's when I really started to panic, because there was a thousand dollars in cash in my wallet, and I had no idea where it was.
I called back down to the bar, and thankfully Jose the bartender had it--as soon as he picked up the phone, I said Hey man, this is Mikey... and he said Oh yeah, I have something of yours here...
As tired as I was I didn't realize that I just left my wallet sitting there on the bar after I paid my tab. Luckily there was a room full of cops in there and the only two criminal-element types in attendance had just left, and one of which actually owned the wallet...
Do you have any idea how depressing it was to have to get dressed again and drive back down there? I was soooo tired and looking forward to a shower and sleep, but I was delayed another half hour as I went down to fetch my stash.
Finally, around 5:00 am I was able to go to bed.
A half hour later, the jackpot finally hit. But like I said, I was blissfully unaware for another 12 hours. I slept all day, getting almost ten hours of sleep. I knew I would need it, because I thought I'd have to work another long one. Early in the evening, I took another hot shower, shaving this time, and prepared myself to get called in to work. Around 6:15 or so, I called down to the poker room to see what time they'd need me. That's when I got the news, and I was told that I was free and clear for the night.
Woo hoo! On one hand, I was glad that I'd finally be able to get some sleep a sense of normalcy back in my life, but on the other hand, I wouldn't be working very much, and the lack of players would keep me from 'feeding on the fishes', too.
Having a Friday night off, along with a pocket full of cash, I didn't know what to do. I mean, not entirely--this is Vegas, there's always something to do, but I was sitting here like a ship without a rudder, directionless, subject to the whim of wind and waves. I emailed Carmen to see if she'd be up for some poker, maybe we could go cut up the 11:00 pm tourney at Binion's, but I didn't hear back right away and I was kind of ready to get out of the house. Surfing the internet had lost it's appeal, and I didn't want to just watch movies here in my room. Besides, I've been running really well at the poker table, so I figured I should respect the streak.
Since it was still cold and rainy, I decided to wear nice clothes when I went out. All my jeans are still hidden away somewhere in our Indiana Jones warehouse of a garage, and all I have to wear is cargo shorts, nasty black polyester work pants, or Dockers. So I put on a nice shirt, sweater, and fished some tassel loafers out of the bottom of the closet and headed out into the rainy Vegas Friday night.
I've been out of bread and such for almost a week, and I haven't been grocery shopping at all, and I realized that I haven't eaten one meal at home since Monday. It's been a long week. Before hitting the poker room again, I went to a local Chinese joint to get some dinner. I found myself at Cook-on-Wok, which is almost right next door to Sierra Gold down on Warm Springs, and ordered some pot stickers, cashew chicken, and fried rice. It was damn good, and I got my weekly dose of veggies in.
About halfway through dinner, my phone was going off. It was Joey, asking what time I was working. I told him that the jackpot hit after we left, and he responded with a string of expletives colorful enough to paint canvas. He'd gotten an early out at his job (he does security down on the Strip) and wanted to come play cards again. I told him I'd meet him over in the poker room in a half hour or so, but he said he was gonna go home and eat first. No biggie, I wasn't going anywhere.
So once I finished my dinner, I headed over to the casino and saw that there were six games going. I couldn't believe it was that busy. I put both our names on the waiting list for the 1-2 no limit game, but as soon as I did, the floorman asked if I'd be willing to work if they needed me. I told him that I'll never turn down a shift, but I was expecting to be off that night and just wanted to come in and relax for awhile at the poker table. He got my drift and said he'd look for somebody else to call.
But my co-workers were slammed, they were six-down and one up, meaning that everyone was pushing six tables in a row, three hours each without a break. So all of them were asking Hey Mikey, you gonna work tonight? Do the bosses know you're here? I kinda felt a little guilty, so I went back up to the desk and told the floorman that yeah, if they needed me, I had a shirt out in my truck as long as they didn't mind me working in grey dockers instead of black slacks. They were ok with it, but told me to hang on for a few. Again, I sent my first beer back and ordered a Sprite. I played for about an hour, making $45 in the 4-8 game (I was too far down the waiting list to ever get to one of the no-limit tables), before they told me to go get my shirt and push into the top of the lineup.
Even though the jackpot had hit, we were slammed. I guess everyone had just assumed they'd be playing poker that night, and still came on down. It was still Friday night, so it was gonna be steady anyways. I had a decent night, tokewise, but the games started breaking up at 1 o'clock. I got out at 1:30, put my nice clothes back on, and got into the 4-8 game.
It was a crazy game, every hand was capped pre-flop, so I had to play pretty carefully--there were huge pots on every hand, and the variance was just crazy. Every hand somebody was all-in, and one hand later they'd have a hundred and fifty white chips in front of them. I managed to scoop two big pots, full houses both times, and was happy with a hundred dollar profit. I was kind of tired, but Joey was still playing, as were two gals who were friends of mine, so I just hung out and watched them for awhile. We had a few drinks, but I was fading fast.
One of the gals wanted me to come sit by her at the table, so even though I wasn't playing anymore, I squeezed in between her and another gal. It seems that the dude on the other side of her had been hitting on her for awhile, and he just wasn't getting the 'not interested' vibe she was putting off. Besides, what he didn't know is that she's Bi, and actually more lesbian than Bi--she always has a girlfriend but rarely hooks up with the fellers. I'm cool with it--we're good friends, but you know, drunk guys in the poker room think they got a shot at every chick that sits down to play.
So anyhow, I'm just sitting there with my 'lesbian girlfriend', and we're laughing and drinking and she's all rubbin' on me and flirting with like we've got something going. In the meantime, this dude on the other side of her is just shooting me the dirtiest looks ever, getting more and more pissed. He seemed kinda ticked, simmering with misplaced jealousy. Whatever dude. He had no shot.
Then he kinda started taking shots at me, but we were ignoring him. Eventually he mumbled something about what a dick I was for being a cockblocker, when somebody else at the table finally spoke up and said Dude--get over it--SHE'S A LESBIAN!!!
Holy shiat, about three different people almost spit their drinks out laughing, like the whole table was in on a secret and he was the only one that didn't know. Heh.
That was pretty much it by that time. It was after four am, the games were shorthanded, and all the juice was gone from the tables. All my friends cashed out, Joey went home, and me and the two gals headed for the bar to get a cup of coffee. We sat and chatted for a bit, but after one 'round', I was too tired to do much more talking. So we said our goodbyes and I headed for home, making sure I had my wallet with me this time.
I got some much-needed sleep, and that brings us up to the present.
As far as Valentine's day goes, I'm getting off cheap this year. Kimmy doesn't deserve any more of my attention, and well, even though I kinda have a thing for Marcie, it just doesn't seem right, at least at this point. The ladies are missin' out, I suppose.
But here it is the middle of the afternoon, and I've got to go back to work in a few hours. I'm guessing that tonight is gonna be a pretty easy one, and I shouldn't have to work too late. Of course, if there's a seat in the no limit game when I finally get cut loose, I'll probably take it. Gotta respect the streak.
Mikey
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