Something For Everyone

Hey Gang! I know it's been a few days, and the re-clickers out there are feeling a little abandoned this week, but I'm back. I've just been so busy this week that I haven't had time to write a decent update. So this one is gonna be long. I suggest you grab a beverage and get comfortable, because it's probably going to take me all afternoon to write.

So where did I leave off?

Oh yes, it was Monday morning, and all I wanted to do was drink coffee and read books. If I recall correctly, I managed the pot of coffee. The books, not so much.

This new schedule, coupled with the lingering bug I've been fighting, have tag-teamed to just wear my ass out. I'm sleeping in fits and spurts, eating once a day, if that, and running at half speed. So on Monday, I decided to go out and get some fresh air.

Actually, I returned to the scene of the crime.

After my foray into the ladies room last week, I had pretty much sworn off Green Valley Ranch for the foreseeable future. I wasn't going back anytime soon. However, GVR is the closest casino to my house, and along with all of the diversions at The District, it's a good spot to hang out when one has some free time. Besides, I really wanted to see the new James Bond flick, and they have a movie theatre.

At least the theatre is downstairs and has it's own separate entrance, so I could go catch a movie and avoid the casino altogether if I just parked over by the Elephant Bar. I figured it was worth the risk, so I headed on over.

I made it in time for the first showing of the day, and matinees are just $7.75 at Regal theatres. But the change from my twenty dollar bill evaporated a few seconds later when I ordered a small popcorn and a large fountain Coke. Seriously, $11.75 for popcorn and a soda? WTF? Next time, I'm gonna smuggle in a box of Junior Mints and a 20 ounce bottle under my jacket. F*ck those crooks.

I got in just in time to catch the beginning of the Coming Attractions, and I swear if I have to sit through another totally ghey preview of the new Fast & Furious movie, I'm gonna hunt down Vin Diesel and personally kick him in the nuts for being such a douchebag. I can't even begin to imagine what kind of audience that movie would appeal to, and I can't come up with any scenario where something so craptacular actually turns a profit. Yeah, I know there is a subculture of brain-dead adolescents who are really into street racing, but I'm not gonna cough up a dime to sit through one of their stroke-films. Hell, I'm pissed off every time I have to sit through that lame-ass three-minute trailer. I guess it's just because that insipid 'I live my life a quarter-mile at a time' line from the first one that has embedded itself into my subconscious is the reason for my bitterness. When I heard that, I all I could think was What kind of retard says shit like that? and I immediately moved Mr. Diesel into the column of "People who need their skull bashed in with a cast-iron frying pan".

So if you're one of the people willing to cough up money to the Fast & the Furious franchise, do the gene pool a favor and go get yourself castrated or otherwise sterilized.

Anyhow. I can't believe I just went on a rant like that over a movie trailer...

But back to Quantum of Solace. Lemme give a couple of thoughts. First of all, I really dig Daniel Craig as the new James Bond. He's easily the best one since Connery. And I thought Casino Royale was a fantastic rebirth of the Bond franchise.

However, Quantum was a huge step backwards. I like how they picked up where Casino Royale left off, but beyond that, this movie kind trips over it's own wang. First of all--there are no Q-style cool gadgets. That's a Bond staple, strangely missing this time around. And apparently, Miss Moneypenny has been replaced by a metrosexual bureaucratic lacky functioning as an administrative assistant. M must have a hankerin' for boy-toys in the office.

But the absolute worst thing was all of the hand-held cameras and skip-editing during the all-too-common action scenes. Remember how unwatchable the second Jason Bourne movie was? There was a lot of that style of direction where they 'enhance' the action by what appears to be nothing more than a bunch of bouncing cameras filming each sequence. It's awful--the beginning chase scene is impossible to follow, and a very lame fight scene that takes place on some ropes and scaffolding is just ridiculous. Just hold the goddam camera still fer chrissakes! It gives one a headache to try and follow the action.

As bad as the direction is, it wasn't a visually appealing movie, either. Most of the action is in Haiti and Bolivia, probably two of the ugliest places on earth. Nobody wants to see that shiat on the big screen. The next Bond flick needs to get back to Eastern Europe, Russia, or the Orient. And seriously, using James Bond to head off a coup attempt in some third-world banana republic? Please. Weren't there any former KGB officers or old East German intelligence types up to no good that week? Were there no internationally-known villains plying their trade in Amsterdam or Prague at the time?

There were a couple of high points--the banter between Bond and M as she tries to reign him in is always good. There is good chemistry there, and they should've done more with that. And this particular Bond girl, Olga Kurylenko, is amazingly sexy. Granted, they really dress her down in this flick, but you catch glimpses. She's got that whole eastern European thing going on which really turns my crank--that cross between smokin' hot and bat-shiat crazy which pulls me in like a moth to the flame. But there isn't much chemistry between her and Bond, and sadly enough, he never even gets her close to the sack. At the end, when they kiss goodbye, the chemistry is so bad between them that she's got a look on her face that looks like it says Holy shit, why is my cousin trying to slip me the tongue?!??!?

As good as the women are in this one, the 'villain' and his, ahem, sidekick, don't really instill a lot of fear or apprehension. They remind me more of Niles Crane from Frasier and Ruprect from Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. Seriously--Worst. Bond Villains. Ever. And don't get me started on how Bond can overpower three Secret Service agents in an elevator, yet it takes him ten minutes of fight-to-the-death scrapping to subdue Niles Crane in a burning hotel. Something does not compute. Again--more Bourne, less Bond. All he does is fight in this one. Outsmarting his rivals seems to be a skill they took away this time.

So the bottom line, is that yes, it was a mildly entertaining flick, but it doesn't even come close to being as good as Casino Royale, which was deemed DVD collection-worthy as soon as the credits rolled. This one, I'm just glad I only paid eight bucks to see it. Imagine the fall-off between Ocean's 11 and Ocean's 12, and you'll get where I'm coming from. Worth seeing once, that's it. I just hope that they set things right with the next one and make it an actual James Bond movie, not another Jason Bourne sequel.

After the movie, I came back to the house, turned on the tube, and did nothing for the rest of the evening but watch the football game, drink a little rum, and sleep for like 13 hours straight. Work, luckily, has not called for a couple of days.

When I got up on Tuesday morning, I was really hungry. I'd had nothing but popcorn the day before, and I found myself perusing the online menu for the Omelet House over on Boulder Highway. It's just a few minutes away from the house, and that Popeye omelet was looking mighty tasty. Besides, I had the day off again, and I needed a palate cleanser after seeing that less-than-stellar Bond movie. So I took a shower, got dressed, and headed out.

When I got out to my truck, there was a bright-orange warning sticker on the window. Apparently the Henderson police department thinks that since my truck is parked in the same place on the street every day, I'm 'storing' it there and I had 48 hours to move it. I thought that was kind of shiatty, since parking on the street is legal here in our neighborhood. But I work nights, so it looks like my truck never moves. But I had been parking it in the street because my roommate had noticed oil spots underneath it in the driveway, and I started parking it out there until I get another oil change.

Anyhow, that note on the window kind of changed the situation--I didn't want to take a chance on getting towed, so I needed to go back to parking in the driveway. So even though I didn't need it yet, I decided to take my truck down and get another oil change, this time at a different place, and have them check for leaks and such.

The note on the window made me forget about breakfast for awhile, but since I had all day to get the oil changed, I headed back over to GVR first. Yep, time for another movie! This time around, I opted for Role Models, with that guy who plays Stiffler in American Pie, and the other guy, I think, was Alicia Silverstone's step-brother in Clueless. As disappointing as the James Bond movie was, this one exceeded all expectations and I found myself chuckling all the way through it.

There were a few big laughs, a whole lot of little ones, and a few gratuitous gross-out moments thrown in just for good measure. It's kinda tough to give it a review--the plot is out there in the previews. Basically a couple of slackers have to do 150 hours of community service or 30 days of jail time. Their service turns out to be mentoring a couple of 'at-risk' kids, and even though it's kind of a predictable formula, there are a few cool twists and turns and the surprise over-arching 'KISS' theme makes it even more fun. Seriously, I enjoyed the hell out of that movie and would recommend it to anyone looking for a couple of hours of mindless entertainment.

When I got out of the movie, my phone was ringing. It was my sister Cyndi back in Nashville, and her and a couple of her girlfriends had embarked on a Thelma & Louise roadtrip during their lunch break. They blew off work and decided to road trip down to Tunica and gamble all night and then come back in time for work the next morning. She said it made her think of me, so she called to tell me of her plans. I haven't heard back from her yet, so I hope it went well.

Once our phone call ended, I decided to go and get the truck worked on. I drove down to the Firestone shop on Eastern & 215, and told them to change the oil and give the truck a thorough going-over. I opted for the tire store for two reasons--I wanted them to pay particular attention to my tires and brakes, it was less than a half-mile from Grimaldi's, too.

After sitting in the waiting room for about a half an hour, they came back in with bad news. There were a few minor things that needed attention, but a seal on my transmission had failed and was leaking, and needed immediate replacement. Suddenly my $30 oil change turned into a $300 afternoon at the garage. They said it would take a couple of hours to get the part delivered and then do the labor required, so I said the hell with it and started hiking. Grimaldi's was just up the road.

Luckily, it was a beautiful sunny day out here in America's Playground, so it was a pleasant walk. It was mid-afternoon by then, so the restaurant was fairly empty. I took a seat at the indoor-outdoor bar and ordered a tall Peroni draft.

I don't know why I always look at the menu, because I always end up getting the same thing--a large pepperoni and mushroom pie. So I sat there for about an hour and a half, drinking cold beer, eating fine pizza, and enjoying pleasant conversation with the bartender. Eventually, it was time to hike back to the repair shop, so I boxed up my leftovers and headed back.

My truck was all done within a half hour or so after I got back, but the repair bill was a tough nut to swallow. But at least it was a problem that got caught early. I've had to pay for a new transmission before, and if I never have to do that again, I'm totally cool with it. $300 is a much easier pill to swallow than $2200. And I didn't have to worry about leaking oil or tranny fluid on the driveway anymore.

I was carrying my pizza box from Grimaldi's when I paid my bill, and it was a conversation starter with the gal at the desk. But she was from Chicago and insisted that I try her favorite spot, Pie Town Pizza. She even gave me a menu from the drawer that she just happened to have, and told me to come back and tell her my thoughts...

By the time I got home, I was extremely tired, so I wanted to get a little sleep in before going out again. My plan was to play in the 8:00 pm tournament down at Binion's. But I wasn't home for an hour before my roommate came up and told me that my truck was leaking all over the driveway again.

Damn.

I went down there to look, and yep, there was a small puddle of clean oil on ground under my truck. I had a flashlight and checked the filter and oil pan, and everything was in order. But there was a whole bunch of oil all over my axle, with beads forming and dripping off. It appeared that whoever changed my oil let the pump nozzle go once they'd filled the crankcase and just sprayed oil everywhere. My engine is still damn near spotless, and all of the oil was very clean, so it seemed to be the best guess.

I chose not to worry about it at the time, and just headed on downtown to Binion's. The tournament area was eerily quiet, and when I paid my registration, I asked how many players had signed up so far. They told me they had enough for two tables. That kinda sucked--every other time I've been there, their 8 pm tourney has gotten at least three or four tables worth of players.

Well, that two tables was a bit optimistic. When 8:00 rolled around there were six of us sitting at one table. I was ready to get a refund and split, but everyone wanted to wait and see if we'd get a few more players, so I agreed to stay if we could get a full table and treat it as a sit-n-go. Finally about a half hour later, we got the tourney started and we actually had 13 players. Because of that, they were going to pay the top three spots, with the winner getting like $650. That kind of sucked, since the buy-in was $125, but by then I was already in.

On the very first hand of the tournament, I got pocket Aces. Unfortunately, everyone except the button folded, and all I could get out of him was one bet. As soon as I bet on the flop, he folded too. Ugh.

The tournament turned into what amounted to being a very expensive practice session. For only having 13 players, it was truly a grind. Nobody would bust out--money was just moving around the table in a circle. I played for almost four hours before going all-in with Ace-King (I only had about three big blinds left in my stack), and I got one caller who had pocket sevens. Neither hand improved and I went out in sixth place because the other player had me covered. Seriously--how tight is a tournament if it takes four hours for the seventh player to bust out?

I was a bit disappointed--not because of my play, but because of the lame field. My next tourney will be against a bigger field down at the Venetian, I think. But that won't be until next week at the earliest.

So I said goodnight and good luck to my opponents and then headed out to the valet to fetch my truck. I sat down on the bench to wait, when a mildly attractive blonde gal with fake boobs, too much makeup, and a Juicy Couture sweatsuit walked up and sat right next to me. I mean, all up in my personal space. She started a conversation, and I realized very soon that she was a dancer next door there at the Gulch and was just finishing up her shift. Getting all up in personal space was just second nature to her. We chatted for a bit, but my truck showed up before she made her pitch, which I was sure was coming.

Due to all of the construction downtown, I was unable to get over to the on-ramp at the Boulevard and I-95, so I took the 'scenic' route back to Henderson, ending up on Boulder Highway. Luckily for me I did, because a little while later I saw that the Circle K at Russell and Boulder had unleaded for $2.07 per gallon, by far the cheapest I've ever seen. (It's still $2.19 per gallon just about everywhere else). So I pulled in there and filled up before coming home and collapsing in bed.

When I got up this morning, I had a few errands to run. I wanted to run back over to the bank and move some money around, and then I was planning on getting my engine de-greased. Unfortunately, the only do-it-yourself carwash that I know of is over on the other side of my old neighborhood, just off of Tropicana.

After stopping at the local bank branch, I drove down to the car wash place with a pocket full of quarters. Since my truck was pretty filthy anyways, it was a two-fold mission. So not only did I wash the outside of the truck, I managed to get the engine compartment all squeaky clean and all of the oil residue off of the bottomside, too. It only took about a half hour of scrubbin', but now my truck is all pretty again, inside and out.

Of course, after finishing that little chore, it was lunchtime. Where did I go--to Pie Town Pizza! However, since I'd had Grimaldi's the day before, I wasn't in the mood for pizza. But looking at their menu, I saw that they also offered sandwiches and one of my latest cravings, hot dogs.

First of all, the location is just right--it's in a strip mall over on Sunset and Green Valley Parkway--about midway between my current place and 'Rueben's House' where I used to live. A lot of people rave about Amore for Chicago food, but the biggest drawback is that it's way the hell over on the west side of town, and I hate driving over there unless I know I'm gonna get my hands on some boobies or something while I'm out there.

Anyhow, it's a very small place--barely a storefront with just six booths for those who wish to eat in. But you know the food has got to be good when the kitchen is over twice as big as the dining room. But the dining room is very cool--both brick walls are covered with huge murals featuring pictures of every famous Chicago icon you can imagine, from the Blues Brothers, to Oprah, Ed Bundy, and the four 'Da Bears!' guys from SNL.

And the staff--three of the four people I met were from the Windy City, and they were very proud of their restaurant. So from the extensive menu and the pleasing asthetics of the restaurant, it looked like I was in for a pleasant meal.

I was fairly hungry, and in the mood to put on my food critic hat and sample different things, so I ordered a 'Bull' dog (a Vienna beef dog with chile, cheese, and onions), a Polish dog, side of fries, a pepperoni pizza puff, and a large Coke. Oh hell yeah, they get bonus points for being a Coke place!

While the chili dog was very good, the Polish dog was just out of this world fantastic! Easily the best one I've ever had. I know, that's a bold statement, but this one came on a steamed poppy seed bun, and it was covered in yellow mustard and sauteed onions. Way better than the 'award winner' at Costco. It was sooooo good. I could've easily eaten about four of them and walked away very happy. The pizza puff was pretty good, but didn't move me. It was like eating a pepperoni Danish, and the pizza puffs at Native New Yorker back in Phoenix are just a little better, I think.

I also have to give props to the fries. Normally, I don't order fries whenever I eat out. They're just not my thing. But one of the guys behind the counter talked me into a side order. I'm glad I did it, because these were very good. They were the double-fried kind, lightly seasoned, and like a good Vienna beef dog, they had a good snap to them, yet the insides were tender. I thoroughly enjoyed them, and no ketchup was needed.

While I was sitting there enjoying the food, I couldn't help but compare it to a visit to a place called Chicago Tasty Dog I went to a few weeks ago. One night, Kelly was over, and we decided to go out and get a bite to eat, and we ended up there. Overall, it was pretty bad. The buns were stale, the fries were greasy and limp, and it was waaaay overpriced. I was really bummed because I was craving a Chicago style dog, and these were no good at all. Not a good place at all--if you want a hot dog, avoid this place at all costs.

But Pie Town was great--I can't wait to go back again. But before I left, I thought it would be a mortal sin if I didn't try their deep dish pizza. So I ordered one to go to eat later tonight. I got a 12" Superfan Special, substituting mushrooms for the olives. It took another half hour or so, causing me to wait around, but I was cool with hanging out talking to the cutie behind the counter and watching ESPN.

I was chilling in my booth when the cook brought out my pizza box. He set it on the table and presented it to me like a briefcase full of money. He opened the lid, and I swear the immediate area lit up like when Jules Winfield opened the mystery suitcase for Ringo there in the Hawthorne Grill.

I almost broke into my bad Tim Roth British accent and asked Is that what I think it is?

Yep, it was a work of art, weighing in at a good eight pounds or more.

I brought it home, and as full as I was from lunch, I managed to eat a piece while I've been making this post. It's damn good. Better than Amore. So all of you Chicago food fans out here on the east side of town now have a place to call your own. The deep-dish pizza is great. The Vienna dogs are authentic, and the Polish dogs are damn near orgasmic. I'll be back there for lunch next week on my day off. Oh, and they have garlic knots too. I didn't try them, and frankly, I'll be surprised if they're as good as the ones at Chicago Brewing Company, but hey, it's just another reason to go back.

Anyhow, that's pretty much what's been going on in the World of Mikey for the past two days. I'm back home now, getting ready to go to bed because I have to work late tonight. But I may have another slice of pizza first...

Mikey

Leading Indicator

Yeah, the economy is in the shitter right now. So say the talking heads. And everyone who's lost a job in the past couple of months.

Here in Vegas, they're trying to generate traffic, so they're giving away the store. Back when times were good, properties on the Strip didn't give two shiats about local business. I couldn't pry an offer out of MGM-Mirage even if I had a truckload of Cristal and limo full of half-naked coked-up Playboy bunnies delivered to the hosts at Treasure Island. But now that occupancy rates have fallen below 90% and the Mirage is offering $5 blackjack on weekends, my inbox is suddenly full of juicy offers. Free nights at the Emerald City, discounted show tickets, and even $129 rooms at a swank joint like the Bellagio between now and The Holiday That Shall Not Be Named.

Yes, it's going to be a cruel winter, according to the bean counters, but Spring is just around the corner.

Try getting a decent room rate for March Madness. This town is already anticipating a sell-out for the entire month, and prices reflect that. Ed W and I booked our room for the Madness this weekend, and three nights at the Nugget are gonna cost us almost $500. And that's for the privelege of hiking back and forth the South Tower ghetto all weekend. If we wanted to stay in the trendier North Tower zip code, well, then we're talking about coughing up a full-on Kobe tasting menu and premium wine flight for two at Craftsteak.

Six bills or more for three nights on Fremont Street? For that price, there better be a couple of twenties stashed inside the nightstand Bible and a complimentary bag of Mexican Gold in the mini-bar.

Granted, we could go old-school and pile everyone into one room at the Plaza, with rollaway beds and a pre-trip Rochambeau tournament to determine who would have to spoon up together, refreshing ourselves with a styrofoam Walmart cooler full of canned Pabst while watching one bracket at a time in the room on a 19-inch Zenith, but no, we've outgrown such spartan accomodations.

So I guess we're going to have to pay. If the oddsmakers in Vegas know anything, it appears that the recession is going to end around St. Patrick's Day.

You heard it here first.

Mikey

Reading, Writing, and Recovering

That's pretty much it for my plans today. I've got the day off (so far), and I don't plan on doing much at all.

Last night, I briefly considered going out for some Grimaldi's and then hitting the 8 pm tournament down at Binion's, but I never motivated myself out the door. I didn't really get any sleep yesterday, and while I was getting dressed to go out, the thought of sitting at a poker table for five hours just didn't appeal to me. So instead, I just took a shower, put on a flannel shirt, and went to bed. No dinner, no poker. Besides, I was afraid that I'd get called in to work again. Not that I would've minded, but once I went to bed, I was totally cool with staying there.

So I got plenty of sleep, dozing through the last half of the Cowboys/Redskins game, then just giving up completely at some point and turning off the TV altogether. I finally woke up around 4:00 this morning, and this time it wasn't because of my phone ringing. Apparently, the poker room can function without me on occasion. So I watched last night's recorded episode of The Unit and then turned on Mike & Mike to provide the background noise while I do this post.

I've got a pot of coffee brewing, and a fresh bottle of peppermint mocha creamer to put me in the proper frame of mind, and my plan is to do nothing for awhile but surf the net and do some reading. I've got a stack of books on my desk that's two feet high that I've acquired over the past couple of months that I need to attack at some point. Besides that, the only productive activity I see on the horizon is going down to the bank when it opens and depositing a small pile of hundies (if only I had that 'chore' every week!) and then filling up the gas tank. As much as I'd like to work today and earn a few more ducketts, I think I'd probably enjoy a full day away, too.

Mikey

Treating Myself

Well, I was right about one thing this weekend. I was guessing that I'd get called into work late Friday night, and it happened. Once I got back from that poker tourney at Planet Ho, I came home, did my write-up, then took a shower and went to bed. Around 2:30 in the morning, the poker room was calling, needing my assistance at 4:00. I figured that there would be no way a game would still be going by then, but I was wrong about that--when I arrived there were two games still hopping, and I got locked down until 6:30.

The games were very juicy, especially the no-limit table. There were five or six guys playing, and there must've been six grand on the table getting pushed around. So I made a nice little pile of cash, which was great, especially since I hadn't been scheduled that day. I ended up working until 9:30, and I was going to go home and go to bed, but one of my favorite gals was working in the sports book that day and she talked me into sticking around and watching football in her section. She kept the Captain & Sevens coming at a regular clip and came by to visit whenever she had a lull, so it was an enjoyable morning. I finally bailed out around noon because I was just too tired to hang around.

Once I got home, I spent about a half hour scrubbing and polishing the bathroom--because of the big UFC fight on Saturday night, I figured that my roommate would have people over, and my bathroom is the 'guest' bathroom when everyone is hanging out upstairs in the gameroom playing poker or lounging out on the balcony. Once that chore was done, I took another hot-as-I-can-stand-it shower and went to bed. I'm still fighting the bug I picked up, and it had been a very long day by then.

I slept straight through, the party outside my bedroom door didn't even phase me, but again, my phone woke me up in the middle of the night. Yep, I had to go back to work again.

Sunday morning in the poker room wasn't nearly as lucrative as Saturday morning was, and I was done by 6:30. I hung out chatting with the relief dealer and the floorman for a bit, but then I came on back to the house. I was wide awake, so I spent the morning surfing the internet, then called back to Nashville to talk to some of the folks back home.

While I was talking to Mamasan, I was telling her that I *almost* purchased a new digital camera this morning, but I just didn't want to spend the money. I've been wanting a new one for over a year, but I never could justify the expense. My current digital camera kinda sucks--just click on all those Binion's poker room photos from last week to see how grainy the pics are. But it's an old hand-me-down camera from Angy--she gave it to me over a year ago when she upgraded to a newer one. I only kept it because my old Canon Powershot 3.2 mp I bought back in 2003 has been beat to hell and doesn't work half the time.

Anyhow, I've needed a new camera for some time, but other things have always taken priority. And a lot of my Vegas adventures would be a lot more interesting to read about if I had some good photos to go along with them. So I've been thinking about it more and more lately. Anyhow, my conversation with Mamasan must've gotten me off the fence, because she convinced me that it was time to treat myself and not worry about buyer's remorse. I've had an and unexpectedly good month financially, plus I cashed in that tourney on Friday. So I could certainly afford a luxury item for myself.

Before I bought anything for myself, though, I got on Amazon and sent Mamasan a couple of little things she wanted--a kitchen gadget and some slot-machine software for her computer. I figured I could spread the wealth a little bit.

As far as buying a camera goes, I couldn't decided what I wanted. Ideally, I'd like to get a nice DSLR, but the price is still a little bit out of my budget, even for the lower-end models. I was looking at another 10 mp Canon model, but it seemed a bit bulky--modeled to look like a full-on DSLR, but it really wasn't, and the lense wasn't one that could be changed out. It was only about $350, well within my budget, but the more I researched it, the less I liked it.

But then I found a really nice 8 mp Canon Powershot model, with optical zoom and image stabilization, and unbelievably, Amazon had it on sale for just $116! I couldn't believe the price, so I jumped on it and put it in my online shopping cart before they could jack it up again. I also picked up a 2 gig memory card and a padded carrying bag for it, too. Since I'd saved so much money versus what I thought I'd be paying, I did a little more browsing there on Amazon and picked up a new pair of Reeboks, too. I needed some decent tennis shoes--my other ones were getting worn out, and I wanted something besides black in my wardrobe anyways. And in the back of my mind, I figured I should do my part to help out our ailing economy, too.

My online shopping spree didn't end there. After all that, I figured it was time once and for all to kill this nasty bug that's had me under the weather all week. So I looked up one of them Canadian pharmacys and ordered a bunch of Amoxicillin. Since I don't have insurance anymore, going to the walk-in clinic and getting a prescription is almost cost-prohibitive. Ordering online was fairly simple, although I have to wait for a 'medical specialist' to review my health questionairre before they release my order. Hopefully it'll arrive within a week or so and I'll be able to kill this bronchitis or whatever the hell is ailing me.

The problem with working in a casino is that there is so much nastiness and so many skanky germs around you all the time that it actually kind of helps your immune system--it's no problem to fight off most of the milder bugs. But once you *do* finally catch something, it's usually so bad that it just wipes you out. I feel like I've done nothing but work and sleep for about the past ten days straight, and I'm getting tired of feeling like crap.

So I spent about $45 on my Amoxicillin, and as soon as I got to the checkout portion of the process, I got a pop-up window (heh) telling me that if I spent at least a hundred bucks on medications, I'd get four free Viagra pills! But I couldn't really think of any other medications I needed at the time, so I had to decline their generous offer. Apparently their marketing department isn't really big on common sense--If somebody is buying penecillin, Viagra probably isn't the best thing for 'em. I'm just sayin'. But four free Viagra pills...that's like a year's supply... I should've bought more antibiotics!

Anyhow, now that my shopping spree has concluded, I'm just kickin' it here at the house, watching a little football and enjoying the evening. It's my dad's 69th birthday today, so I got to talk to him for about a half an hour or so, which was nice. We had a lot of laughs and caught up on all the latest news and gossip. I'm trying to convert him to the wonders of Photobucket and Flickr, just because he does a bit of traveling and picture-taking now that he's a full-time retiree, but he's still old skool and doesn't like that new-fangled intarweb thingy as a way of sharing pictures, although he has a very nice Sony DSLR and uses photo editing software before he makes his prints...

As for the rest of my evening, I'm considering heading out to Grimaldi's for some dinner. I haven't been there in entirely too long, and I've got a hankerin'. I'm also thinking of going down to Binion's for their 8 pm tournament, too.

Mikey

Return of the Poker Mojo

Well, it's around 7:30 on Friday night, and I'm just about ready to head for bed--I can't kick this bug, and well, just in case work calls later tonight, it would be helpful if I got some rest.

After this morning's post, I fell asleep for a couple of hours, but I knew I needed to get up before we got too deep into the afternoon. I had to run to the bank and deposit some cash--the insurance direct debit hits this weekend and I wanted to make sure I was covered. But after that, I was feeling a bit restless. Lately, because of being under the weather, all I've done is work and sleep. And I was getting tired of lying in bed all day. I was drugged up and feeling ok, so I decided to go play a little poker.

I'm hoping to play in a bigger tourney over at the Venetian or Caesars later next week (something with a five-digit payoff for the top spots), but I felt like I needed a warm-up, just to see if I was up to the task. After that chop two weeks ago at Binion's, I haven't felt like I've been playing my best, so I wanted to work the kinks out in a tourney that didn't cost so much.

So I headed down to Planet Hollywood to get into their 2 pm tourney this afternoon. The buy-in is only $80, they usually get at least four tables, and the structure is fairly decent. Well, when I got there, the poker room had completely disappeared. It was gone, man. In it's place were a bunch of high-limit blackjack tables and a bunch of bored-looking dealers.

So I just kept on walkin'. Eventually, I found the new 'poker room' behind the Heart Bar, almost directly next to the escalators when you come up from the lobby. But it's no room--they just set up nine tables in the middle of a bunch of slot machines. It's awful, absolutely a terrible set-up. I don't know why they moved the room, if it's permanent, or what. None of the dealers seem to know either, and the move is pretty much universally disliked. What once was a very nice poker room is now just a bunch of tables tucked into a low-traffic area off the main floor of the casino. It's a complete afterthought.

Once I paid my registration, I still had an hour or so before the tourney started, so I went over to the main pit and played a little Pai Gow. In about twenty minutes, I was up $22, and walked away when some annoying kid sat down at the table and started yapping. At that point, I just wandered back over to the poker room area and did a little people watching for the balance of my free time.

The tournament started with four full tables, and with re-entries, there were 45 players total. I was doing pretty well at first, building up a nice stack of chips, but then I got crippled. I had pocket tens, flopped top set, and then went all-in over the top of the guy in front of me. He called with just King-high, and I thought I'd bust him out, except he went runner-runner to make a straight.

That chopped me right down to about 50% of the average chip stack, and I was playing catch-up for over an hour, short-stacked the entire time.

It was getting close to push-em and pray time, when I looked down to see pocket nines. There was some action in front of me, so I went all in and managed to triple up when I turned a full house. That got me back to playing with confidence, and by then we were down to two tables.

By then, the blinds were getting unwieldy, so players were dropping like flies. By the time we got our second break, we were down to 14 players, with the top six making money. I was a little nervous at that point, but I managed to pull a sick bluff that I still can't believe worked, and raked a nice pot. If I would've gotten called, I'd have been very short-stacked... But when we got down to the final table, I was the chip leader.

There was talk of a chop, but since I was out front, I said I wouldn't push the issue. Besides, there were a couple of very short stacks at that point, and I wanted to get them out of the mix.

I managed to knock out two at once, and when we got down to seven, I had over $60,000 in chips (we started with $4000 each). But then the game tightened waaaaay up. Nobody would call, nobody would raise, everyone was getting a walk on their blinds. I was card dead, but it didn't matter--I had such a monster stack, I could afford to fold about 30 hands in a row without putting a dent in my bankroll.

Eventually, the seventh person busted out, and we were all happy to be in the money. Again the dealer was pushing six way chop for about $400 each, but a couple of the other players didn't want to.

About that time, I was on the big blind, and the small blind had the third-highest chip stack. He pushed all-in for the fourth time in a row, so I called him with my Ace-Nine of diamonds. He had Ace-Six unsuited, but of course the board ran out Queen-Two-Three-Four-Five, giving him a straight and the chip lead, and cutting me to shreds. Luckily, a couple of other people busted out, and everyone wanted to do a chop which would've given us all $460 or so. I agreed, but the one gal who had been short-stacked and then won the two quick pots suddenly decided that she didn't want to make a deal.

Everyone was pissed at her because of that, and I was ready to go because my medication had worn off and my head was all stuffed up and I was hacking a lung up into my sleeve every few minutes. So when it was her big blind, I found myself with King-Ten suited, so I went all-in. The guy on my immediate left also went all-in, as did the girl everyone was trying to bust.

Whoops.

They both had Aces in their hands, and we all paired up on the flop. But since my stack was the shortest of the three, I went out in 4th place for a $345 payday. Not bad, but I think that being sick cost me a couple hundie--had I not been coughing and sneezing and feeling like shiat, I probably wouldn't have made the all-in push, but I saw that even if I lost, well, I was still up $265 for the afternoon, so I got careless.

But even being sick, I managed to play well, only needed to get lucky twice all afternoon to make it as far as I did. Yeah, for a while there, I thought I would be taking home that thousand-dollar first-place prize money, but that guy who caught the five on the river to make his straight ruined that opportunity.

Anyhow, it was a good experience and a nice tune-up. I think I'm going to wait until I'm completely over my cold before I dive into a big tourney though--I need to make it eight or nine hours straight without feeling like crapola.

Now, it's time for bed. I've got a feeling that my phone is gonna ring in a few hours and I'll be needed at work.

Mikey

I Got Nuthin'

Happy Friday everyone!

I just got home from work a little while ago, and as much as I'd like to put up an entertaining post, I'm drawing a blank--I got nothin'.

Apparently, though, my story about the escapades in the ladies room ranks right up there with our coleslaw discussion as far as popularity goes, so my hat's off to you people--you make me so proud!

Anyhow, I'm not scheduled to work again for a few days, although they said they may need me this weekend. I'm hoping to pick up at least one shift, just because the money has been very good this past week. I'm really diggin' this new graveyard shift. Compared to sitting on my ass doing nothing for two hours, then having to listen to all the old guys talk about their diabetes or doctor visits, well, it's been a little slice of heaven. The money's better, the games are *much* better, and I'm busy the whole time. And once the games die, I'm done--I close the table, do a little paperwork, and then I'm out. But as much as I like it, it's hell on my sleep schedule, especially when I'm still fighting this head cold.

I wish I had more to report, but my the slate remains blank for now. Maybe this weekend I'll find some inspiration and come up with a story or two.

Until then,

Mikey

Finding New Ways to Embarrass Myself On A Daily Basis

Man, that title is so perfect that I'm tempted to use that as the subtitle at the top of the page and take down that Winston Churchill quote altogether.

Seriously, I have a story that's gonna make your jaw drop. And if you were here in person, you'd point at me and laugh... But we'll get to that eventually.

So, in case anyone is wondering, yes, I'm still sick. I worked late Monday/early Tuesday, made a nice little bundle of cash in about four hours, then the games went dead before the sun came up. So the other dealer and I got sent home, and since I was wide awake and hungry, I stopped by one of the local watering holes for some breakfast. I had some amazingly good chicken-fried steak, eggs, home fries, and toast, about a half a pot of coffee, and some good conversation with some other local night-crawlers. And while sitting there waiting for my food, I put $5 into the bartop video blackjack machine and turned it into $25, so my breakfast was not only free, it was slightly profitable.

By the time I got home, the drugs were starting to wear off, so I loaded up again, watched TV for a bit, and then slept all day and most of the night, again waking up only to drink more fruit juice. Now that I'm on graveyard shift, I was wide awake at 2:00 am, so I got up, showered, and got dressed, thinking that since it was about 20 hours since I'd eaten solid food, I should go get something, but my taste buds are only responding to Tabasco sauce this week.

I thought maybe about playing in a middle-of-the-night poker tourney, but those are few and far between, and there are no cash games within five miles of my house going on at that hour either. I would've had to drive down to the Mirage or Bellagio to find a game. I didn't want to do that. But my system is still fighting this bug, and it was easy to fall asleep again.

A few hours later, I woke up this morning to a bright sunny bedroom and a Billy Mays commercial on the TV. At that point, I decided that I *had* to get out and do something. I was really hungry by then, so I figured that I'd cruise over to Green Valley Ranch and hit the Original Pancake House for some breakfast.

I stopped in the gift shop first and coughed up seventy-five cents for a little brain candy--the morning edition of USA Today, the only newspaper I can read from cover-to-cover in less than a half an hour. There was no line in the restaurant, so I was seated immediately.

I ordered a cup of coffee and a large glass of orange juice, took a few pills, and perused the extensive menu. I've eaten there several times in the past, but I wanted to try something new besides the usual ham & eggs or pancakes & bacon. So I went with the 'Eggs Michael'.

Basically, it was a riff on Eggs Benedict, but they use sausage patties on the English muffins instead of the Canadian bacon. The eggs are still poached, but instead of Hollandaise sauce, they use a cream sherry sauce with mushrooms to top the dish. And then they serve four potato pancakes on the side.

It was an interesting dish, I'll admit. Very savory, but the sauce wasn't as hot as it should've been, or maybe it just cooled off too fast because I was a slow eater (I blame the newspaper). And for whatever reason, I didn't like potato pancakes as much as I thought I would, even with sour cream and applesauce. It was a good meal, don't get me wrong, but I probably wouldn't order it again.

After breakfast, I wandered over to the poker room to see what was going on, but it was dead. There was a short-handed 4-8 game going on, but it didn't speak to me. And besides that, the room is ice-cold. That's nice in the summer when it's 110 degrees outside, but when it's breezy and 58 degrees outdoors, and I'm fighting a cold, sitting in a sterile ice-box of a poker room doesn't appeal to me at all.

I decided to check out the sports book, but there was nothing going on in there except for the degenerate chain-smoking horse-gamblers doing their daily ritual, so I decided to just come on back home. I was about halfway across the casino when I realized that I *really* had to use the restroom.

Apparently, my system still can't handle real food quite yet.

So, I picked up the pace and headed to the nearest restroom. I went straight to the back and headed for a nice spacious unoccupied handi-man stall. Thankfully the entire restroom was empty at the time, because I don't really need an audience when I'm motorboating. Besides, I didn't need the karmic payback for all the times when I've been in a casino restroom and I've heard somebody going to town in one of the stalls and I'm the first one to pipe up with the Tom-Arnold-in-Austin-Powers classic line That's right son--You show that turd who's boss!

When I hung up my jacket on the door hook, I remember thinking, Man, when did they start using floral air-freshener in the men's room?

I dropped trou and started to take care of business, and I noticed a little metal flip-down table attached to the wall. I thought that it was a nice touch by the suits at GVR, providing me a place to set my beer while I grunted one out. So while I was sitting there playing my one-note symphony, I heard a few other people come in and start talking, so I tried, unsuccessfully, to tone it down. Oh well. It's the men's room. Much better to make all those disgusting noises in there than out amongst polite company.

Unfortunately, they weren't men's voices that I heard. My first reaction was to call out "Occupado!" but then again, it wasn't Spanish they were speaking, so I realized that it wasn't the usual cleaning crew, so I kept my mouth shut. It was just a couple of old ladies, and I thought Heh--them crazy old women wandered in to the men's room. Boy are they gonna be surprised when I pop out of this stall and say hello!

But I wasn't finished with the task at hand, so my colorful exit would have to wait a few minutes. And then I heard even more female voices. Suddenly, there were like six women in there. Then the embarrassing realization set in. I didn't notice any urinals when I walked in, but then again, I was concentrating on 'getting to the church on time'. And the flowery air freshener? Not very manly.

So that's when it hit me--there I was, sitting there with my drawers at my ankles in the main ladies room at the Green Valley Ranch casino.

How in the hell am I gonna get out of this one with my dignity intact?

Well, assessing the situation, I figured that the first thing to do was finish off my business and get my pants back up and fastened before I got found out and reported to security for being a pervert. That was the easy part, but then I sat back down on the can, trying to figure out how to make my escape. The problem was, these old broads didn't want to leave. They just stood there at the sinks talking about the most inane drivel. In the meantime, I'm trying to keep from coughing (still fighting that cold), because then they'd know there was a dude in their midst. Had they checked under the door, the hairy, sized-13 feet in the sandals would've been a dead giveaway also.

So I was sitting in there, trying to keep quiet, watching through the door cracks, and listening, hoping that those women would finally leave. It was kind of like waiting to run across a freeway--I was hoping for a ten second opening to make my escape where there was either nobody in the restroom, or if so, they were in a stall, so that I could bust open the door and sprint out unseen. Although I was only trapped for like ten minutes, it seemed like an hour.

I was sweating by then, just figuring if I got discovered, there was no talking my way out of it--I'd be arrested, branded as a perv for the rest of my life, and then have to register with the Sheriff's office every time I moved.

Finally, the two lingerers left, and then I heard another flush. A door opening, the water in the sink getting turned on, and a towel being pulled out of the dispenser. Then blessed silence.

It was Go time!

I popped the lock on the door and took off as fast as my chubby ass would move. Just as I got around the corner into the vestibule, another lady came walking in and the only thing I could do was just announce in a loud voice This is *not* the men's room! and I kept on walking, head high, like I knew what I was doing.

I immediately dodged into the real men's room, washed my hands, wiped my brow, elicited an audible Whew! and then headed directly for the exit. Nobody stopped me, but I sure wasn't gonna make eye contact with anyone, either.

That was enough adventure for one day, I think. I'm back here at home now, and I'm not leaving again until I head back to work tonight. At least there, I'm sure of which bathroom is which.

Mikey

Doing My Part To Stimulate The Economy

I just got home a little while ago, and it's time for bed. I'm not quite used to this graveyard shift, especially when I've got some swing shift hours tossed in the mix, but I know that I'm tired, still a little under the weather, and I need the rest.

But this morning after I made that previous post, I headed out for awhile. I dropped the truck payment in the mailbox, went down to the bank to launder deposit a small bundle of unmarked bills, and then did some shopping. I first stopped at the men's store to buy fun stuff like socks and underwear (can never have too much), and I was tempted to pick up a pair of flannel sweat pants. They looked comfy and warm, especially this week. But I opted not to buy 'em. Maybe next time.

After that, I went over to the big WalMart Supercenter over on Sunset and 95. Man, what a zoo. And I purposely do my shopping on weekdays just to avoid the crowds, but the place was crowded. Bad economy? Man, you wouldn't know it by visiting the Walmart today. I guess people are still buying the essentials and such, but just not spending any money in the casinos right now.

Anyhow, I spent about $140 on toiletries and cleaning supplies, plus I stocked up and got three bottles of Peppermint Mocha coffee creamer, along with two cans of Don Francisco's finest. When I left the house, the plan was to go out to lunch, but then with perishables, that idea went out the window. Plus my cough came back, so when I finished my shopping, I didn't feel like eating anyways.

Once I got home, I put my purchases away, grabbed a bottle of Gatorade, and came upstairs to relax. About 15 minutes later, my phone was ringing. It was Lars--he was just up the block at the local pizza joint and said he could see my truck parked out in front of the house. So I told him to look in at the upstairs window where I offered up my one-fingered salute. He laughed, but said that he had ordered a couple of baskets of wings and had to get back inside. A few minutes later, I walked up there and joined him, 'cause hot wings is good for what ails ya!

We had an enjoyable visit over lunch, and we're planning on having a nice steak dinner later on this week--depending on whether or not I'm feeling any better. Right now my taste buds are somewhat worthless, although hot wings seem to taste good, in addition to clearing my sinuses and giving me a brief endorphin rush. But I don't wanna cough up fifty bucks for a steak dinner if I can't taste it. So it's a tentative plan at this point.

Other than that, there's not much else going on in the life of Mikey.

It's time for me to go to bed though. I've got a long night ahead of me.

Mikey

Bullets Kill the Snowmen

Hey Gang.

Being an experienced blogger, I know that if I was any kind of host worth a damn, there would've been a nice long interesting post up this morning for your reading enjoyment.

There should've been, but I was just too damn tired to do one last night, and I slept in this morning. But as soon as I typed that last sentence, I realized that it's only 7:30 in the morning. I'm not wearing my glasses and thought the digital readout on the cable box said 8:55 when I woke up. I guess it was just 6:55. Doh!

Anyhow, it's been quite the weekend for me.

I'm still feeling a bit under the weather, but not nearly as bad as I was on Friday. After my hour of work on Saturday, I came home and slept literally all day long. It was just what I needed, but when I woke up around 8:30 at night, I was feeling much better, yet very restless. I did not want to stay home cooped up in my germified room all night.

So I showered, shaved, and got dressed, yet I still had no plan for the evening. I figured something would come to me eventually, so I just got ready to go out and do something, anything. I realized that I was very hungry, having subsisted on nothing but apple juice and crackers for a couple of days, so finding some grub was definitely on the agenda. But since I was feeling better and well-rested, I decided to go take a shot at a poker tournament.

Looking online, there were a few options available, but I eventually gravitated back to the old reliable choice of Binion's. Their 11:00 pm tournament is a pretty good one, and Dougie and I both cashed in it two weeks ago, so I figured my chances were good. And oh by the way, that left me plenty of time to drive down and get some dinner beforehand, too.

Once I paid my tournament registration fee, I thought of hitting the coffee shop again. Although I never made it that far, it appears that they're back to being open 24 hours again. I'm not sure, but the promo signs I saw indicated that they had some 24 hour specials going again, as did their website. But instead of that, I decided to really tempt fate and hit the snack bar instead.

It had been awhile, and even though I wasn't sure if my system could handle the shock, I ordered a bowl of chili with cheese and onions, a side of cornbread, a tall Coke, and just for good measure, at the last minute I said I wanted a hot dog, too. Told ya I was hungry.

A few minutes later I was happily munching away, really enjoying a hearty bowl of chili and cornbread on that cold Vegas night. (Yeah, it's cold here now. I was wearing socks. And a fleece jacket). In fact, it was so good that a random couple walked up to the counter, saw me eating it and said Damn, that looks really good--let's get that!, and they sat down right next to me and ordered the same thing.

The hot dog was good, too, but my 'chili bean' soup was off-the-charts enjoyable. And I counted a grand total of two beans in the entire bowl, so it was that much better. (I prefer no-bean chili, myself). While sitting there enjoying my meal, I briefly considered sending Hoya a text message telling her what the Bean of the Day was (Northern white beans), because it's one of those silly things I've been doing for years. Whenever she's out here, and downtown, she goes to the Binion's snackbar and orders whatever the bean of the day is... But it was after 10 pm here, making it 1:00 am back east, so I decided that I'd withhold that information until now...

Anyhow, I came pretty damn close to finishing the entire meal, but couldn't quite polish it off. And my system must've needed the nourishment, because there were no ill effects, I'm happy to report.

I got back over to the tournament area about five minutes before the cards went in the air, and I saw that there were three full tables. Not too bad--another $700+ payday for first place, I figured. I was playing pretty well, and had turned my $5000 in starting chips into almost $10,000 after the first hour. I liked my chances.

But it was a fairly tight tournament--after the first three or four quick bust-outs, nobody seemed to be going anywhere for almost two hours--the chips just seemed to be moving around the table. Unfortunately, I didn't make it to the money this time, as I got a hand that no matter how many times I replayed it in my head, would've made me go broke no matter what I did.

Basically, I was on the big blind for $400, and everyone folded around to the button, who limped in. The small blind called, and I looked down to see pocket Eights. I figured I was golden, so I bumped it up to $1200 to go. The button folded, and the small blind called.

The flop was 2-5-7, rainbow, so I had an overpair. The small blind checked, I made it $2500 to go, and the small blind thought for a second and called.

The turn brought a blank three, the small blind checked again, I bet $4000. It took a little longer to call this time, but the small blind eventually came along. By then, I had over half my stack in the pot and figured I had the best hand, so I was committed, no matter what came on the river.

It was a harmless ten, and again the small blind checked. I pushed all in and the small blind went in the tank, presumably, for almost a minute, before finally saying Well, I guess I'm beat, but I just can't lay this down, so I have to call.

The rat bastard had pocket Aces. And he had my stack covered by a measly $25. Mikey out!

I drove home, pissed off, replaying that hand over and over in my head, but I realized that there was just no way around me going broke. The guy in the small blind caught a perfect storm of circumstances--everyone else folding, so the pot was shorthanded for the flop, causing him to limp, and somebody (me) behind him catching a pocket pair and driving the action because I had position on him. Couple that with the fact that no scare cards hit the board for me, and well, I couldn't help but dig my own grave.

Oh well. That's two hands in the past month that have knocked me out of a tournament that no matter what happened, I couldn't get away from. That info will go in the vault for future reference, but for right now, I have no idea how to use it.

Anyhow, once I got home, I was wide awake, so I stayed up all night surfing the net and watching TV. Early the next morning, I talked to the family back in Nashville--there was some sort of gathering that weekend, Reverend Dave had come up from Alabama and a bunch of my siblings had gone to some BBQ & Bourbon fest downtown. Sounded like lots of fun, and I wish I could've been there to join 'em.

About the time the morning football games came on is when I hit the wall, so I finally dozed off around 11:00 am. A couple hours later, I woke up to my phone ringing--they needed me down at the poker room ASAP, so I got dressed and made it down there in time for the next push.

It turns out that we were quite busy on Sunday afternoon, so it was a pretty good day for me, and the previous night's loss of buy-in was recovered in my first hour of work. As a bonus, I managed to pick up another shift on Tuesday, so my original two-day workweek has already doubled in size. I ended up working six hours last night and making a nice chunk of change for the day, but man, was I ever worn out once I got home.

I'm still sick, it's just that the drugs have killed most of the symptoms. But when I finally punched out, I was tired, achy, running a slight fever, and feeling kinda crappy. So I stopped on the way home to get some more medicine, and while I was hungry (I was thinking about chicken chow mein--don't ask me why, but I had a weird craving going on), instead I just bought a bag of pistachios from Walgreens and had that and some Gatorade for dinner.

I stayed up to watch The Unit (man, what a great show!) and follow the final table action online on the WSOP site (the Novemeber Nine have been whittled down to two, and they'll finish off tonight). I finally went to bed sometime around 1:00 am this morning and got a full night's sleep.

Since I've got that graveyard shift late tonight, I'm not worried about getting called in to work today. So I've got some free time. As soon as I hit the 'submit' button on this post, I'm gonna take a shower and then go run a bunch of errands and do a little shopping.

If I can think of anything interesting to post, well, you'll know where to find it.

Mikey

Feeling A Little Better Today

But I think that may be the drugs. I slept pretty much the entire day and night on Friday, only waking up a couple of times to drink some juice or take a hot shower. At 3:30 this morning, work called, asking if I could come in, so I did.

There was only one game going, but after about 45 minutes or so, it broke up, so I ended up dealing for less than an hour. I called it a day after making a whopping $29 in tokes. Oh well, it's something.

But the cocktail waitress was taking a break when I got done, so I went and had coffee with her, then I headed back to the parking garage. I ran into Beth, but she was on the tail-end of an all-nighter and entirely too giggly at the time, so said hello-goodbye and I headed out. Being wide awake, I wanted to to something--I guess I was bored. I just didn't want to come right back home. I didn't want to test fate by going out to breakfast, although I was kinda hungry. I would've liked to have gone and played some poker, but I checked the computer at the desk before I left, to see if any of our nearby properties had games going, but everyone else was dead, too. Hell, I was even tempted to go play some dice, but that temptation passed after about two minutes.

So, I just stopped at the store on the way home for some Coke and Gatorade, and now I'm just chillin', waiting for the morning football games to start.

At 9:00 o'clock, I've got to call up to the new Aliante Station and try and get a dinner reservation at their steakhouse--it's the 'dress rehearsal' weekend before the grand opening on Tuesday, so their letting us go up and try the new restaurants for free and play with monopoly money at the table games. The steakhouse still has openings, but most of the other restaurants have been booked up already. If I can get in, great, if not, no big deal--I'm still fighting a cold and it's a long damn drive up there to Aliante. But for a free meal at an upscale steakhouse, I've got to try and take a shot.

Also, all of that Pai Gow and poker with Sticky at Treasure Island, New York New York, and MGM Grand over the past two years has finally paid off. Back in the day, we'd always bitch and moan because they never gave us any offers, and we gave them a lot of action (well, Sticky always got free rooms at the Mirage and NYNY, but that's it). Anyhow, just this week I got an email from MGM with an offer for three free nights, anytime except holiday weekends between now and December 24th.

Eddie B has been talking about wanting to come up for a quick weekend trip again before the end of the year, so I talked to him and we booked a weekend in December. Three free nights at the MGM Grand--not too shabby! I'll gladly take that. Too bad it wasn't good through March--I could've really used 'em then. Anyhow, when he comes up, we'll spend a couple of days watching football, playing poker and pai gow, and I think I'm gonna make him run the hooker gauntlet over at the Tropicana, just for the entertainment value. He always gets flustered, especially around the skanky ones, so it should be a fun way to spend some time. I'm just hoping that there's a good band there that night.

That's all for now.

Mikey

Down Goes Frazier!

I've fallen and I can't get up...

Yep, Mikey is down for the count this weekend--I picked up some kind of nasty bug the other day and it has completely laid me out. I felt a tickle in my throat that night I did the split shift, but when I got up the next morning, I had a full-on sore throat and stuffed-up sinuses. Then the coughing started, now the aches, and the worst part is that I can't keep any food or drink in me, either. Not that I'm eating much--yesterday all I had were three granola bars, some coffee, and an energy drink.

Last night at work was the worst. I stopped at Walgreen's on the way in and bought some more drugs because I was feeling awful (bringing my running total to over $50 I've spent this week on various medical voodoo ingredients), and I loaded up before hitting the poker room. I've got cough medicine. I've got nasal spray. I've got sore-throat lozenges. I've got Zycam spray. I've got Sudafed and Alka-Seltzer Plus. I am a walking over-the-counter pharmacy, and I'm good to go.

But it was a slow night in the poker room, and I only worked a half-shift before the game finally broke, which, by the way, I was totally cool with. I really wanted to go home and go back to bed. I was half-crocked on medication, tired, and feeling like crap.

I was very happy to leave when I did--my game wasn't very juicy anyways. When I was leaving, I realized how hungry I was, so I thought that the logical thing to do was to get some spicy food to fill the hole with the added bonus of clearing my sinuses. So I stopped at a local 24-hour joint for an order of hot wings. Big mistake! I mean, they were great, at the time, but the feeling of well-being didn't last very long. It was like a race with the devil to get home and get to the bathroom before I redecorated the interior of my truck and ruined a perfectly good pair of work shoes. Do you have any idea how hard it is to duck-walk when you have to climb a flight of stairs? It's no fun, trust me. I felt a lot like Jeff Daniels in Dumb & Dumber. You know the part I'm talking about...



Couple that with a fever and body aches, and you'll see that my day is not shaping up to be very enjoyable. So my plan for now is to do nothing but lie in bed, take my drugs, and drink bottled water and apple juice all day long. My head hurts, my nose is stuffed up, and I can't eat anything. But this too shall pass. I just hope there's something good on TV, because I don't plan on moving for a couple of days.

Mikey

My Favorite Places -- Catalina Island

I've decided to add a new semi-regular feature to my site, which I think you'll all get a kick out of. Every now and then, I'll write about some of my favorite places and maybe toss in an anecdote or two along with some pictures. I figure that it can be somewhat entertaining, and it's also a good cure for the occasional bout of writers block that I sometimes suffer from.

So for my first installment, I give you Catalina Island. Those of you from Southern California are very familiar with it--it's a wonderful place for a weekend getaway. And although it's less than 30 miles from the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles, it feels worlds away. Most tourists and visitors spend their time in Avalon, the main 'town' on the island, and also the main harbor.




Most folks that come out to visit arrive by high-speed ferry from Long Beach or Newport, but cruise ships also call on Avalon. Myself, I prefer to sail there on a small boat from Marina Del Rey.

If sailing, the trip takes about six hours or so, maybe a little longer depending on wind and weather, but I can tell you this--that six hour 'road' trip is infinitely more enjoyable than driving between Phoenix and Las Vegas.

It's a pretty easy sail, not quite a straight shot from MDR, but if you know what you're doing and can use a chart, a clock, and a compass, you can easily find your way there, even if it's a foggy day. And if you have a GPS unit, it's fantastically easy to find.

The picture above was taken on Easter weekend of 2002, the first time I sailed to Catalina unsupervised. It was a cold, grey, and windy weekend--the sea was angry that day, my friends--and my 'crew' of Ed W, his wife Michelle, and Derek spent the whole time huddled up under the relative warmth and protection of the dodger while I was at the helm taking the full brunt of the weather like that guy pictured on the box of fish sticks you get at the grocery store. Anyhow, I'll admit that I was a bit nervous, having signed my name on the dotted line and being responsible for a boat that was worth more than my house at the time along with the lives of three of my friends. But I was the most 'experienced' sailor on board, so I assumed the duties of captain on the trip.

Once we got about two hours out of the safety of Marina del Rey, that's when reality struck--it was so foggy that we couldn't see anything--and we were crossing the main shipping channel for the port of Los Angeles, so we had to dodge oil tankers and huge cargo vessels, none of which we could see. There was nothing but ocean and fog in every direction.

But we managed to navigate our way out there, and when I saw the harbor entrance to Avalon appear out of the mists, it was one of my proudest moments. That's when I snapped that picture.

But finding the harbor isn't the tricky part. Getting in is. First of all, it can be very crowded, especially on weekends and nice-weather holidays. And second of all, if there is a swell running and the wind is blowing, it makes it especially difficult to handle the boat and maneuver it in close quarters.

The first thing that happens when you arrive is to call the harbormaster on the radio, hoping that he has a mooring available for you. If not, you'll have to anchor somewhere (good luck with that, where the bottom is 70+ feet deep right outside the harbor and only goes deeper from there), or you'll have to head to the overflow area in the Descanso Bay ghetto. Or if you're a veteran, you'll just sail in a find the harbor patrol boat at the entrance and ask them for a mooring. If they have one, they'll direct you to it, if not, you're turned away. Sorry folks, park's closed. Moose out front shoulda told ya!

But if you're lucky enough to get a mooring, that's when the fun begins. You've got to maneuver a very unweildy vessel that weighs several tons and has no brakes, in tight quarters, all with the wind and waves working against you, with the added degree of difficulty of having about a dozen or so onlookers critiquing your every move. Believe me, it is not the time to fuck up--it would be very costly if you did.

Once you have the boat moored and secured, the stress is off and it's time to relax. We either crack open an icy cold Pacifico or make a batch of margaritas. Then we wait for the Harbor Patrol to come by again to inspect our shitter head.

What?

Yep, every boat that comes to Avalon harbor has to abide by very strict environmental regulations--no discharge whatsoever from the boat while you're inside the harbor. So all toilet use has to go into a holding tank during your visit--no flushing out into the water. I, like everyone else who visits Catalina, love this rule. The water in Avalon harbor is unbelievably clear and clean, especially for California, and they want to keep it that way. So they toss a big neon green dye tablet into your holding tank once you get into the harbor, that way, if anything gets discharged overboard, it's like a big electric sign ratting you out. And then you'll pay a $500 fine and the boat is banned for one year from visiting Avalon--it's not allowed in the harbor whatsoever. (And you're doubly eff'd if you're in a charter boat--if that boat isn't allowed in Avalon, they lose a whole bunch of charter revenue, so they'll be all up in your ass). The bottom line is, keep your valves closed while in Avalon. Wait until you're at least three miles offshore, then let her rip, so to speak...

But because of this strident enforcement of environment regulations, Avalon harbor water is clean enough to swim in. Normally, one wouldn't swim anywhere near a concentration of moored boats, but here, no problem at all. It's like taking a dip in a very well-kept aquarium. And they have a great beach, too, so they encourage swimming in the harbor.


Anyhow, once all the business is taken care of, it's time to enjoy the island. The town operates a shuttle boat that you can call on the radio and they'll pick you up and take you to shore, but most people just use the dinghy and save the money (I think it's like $3 each way, and it doesn't run 24 hours, either).


Once you get to shore, there are lots of things to do. Avalon is first and foremost a tourist town, so there are plenty of bars, restaurants, and souvenir shops all along Crescent Avenue. If you're really motivated, you can hike up the hills for some great photo opportunities, or just rent a golf cart if you're lazy.


We usually like to wander a bit, maybe have a Cadillac margarita at the Catalina Cantina before finding a spot for dinner. But then after we eat and shop, we'll party till the wee hours at places like the El Galleon, Luau Larry's (the original 'noisy bar in Avalon'), or the Blue Parrot.

The most famous landmark in all of Avalon is that wedding-cake building, and it's simply known as The Casino. Now, when I first heard about that, I was all over it--I couldn't wait to visit. But it's not an actual casino. It more of a ballroom and conference center where they hold parties and gatherings, upscale weddings, and convention type of stuff. There are no dice tables to be found anywhere on the premises. However, they have one party every year that I'd *love* to attend--every year the Los Angeles Art Deco Society hosts their annual Avalon Ball where everyone dresses up in their best 20's and 30's outfits and dances the night away to big band and swing music. Maybe I'll be able to attend next May.

Anyhow, the casino is usually open to the public for tours and what not, and it's been there forever, so there are lots of old Hollywood ghosts still lurking about the place.

As picturesque as Avalon is, it faces east, so it's tough to get a good sunset shot unless you're out on the water. However, if you're up early in the morning, the sunrises are spectacular:


As much fun as Avalon is, it's not my favorite spot on the island. I prefer the more laid-back and off-the-beaten-path of Two Harbors. So on a weekend sailing trip, we'll hit Avalon to live like tourists, but then the next day, we'll sail down to Two Harbors for the relaxation part of the trip. But the best part of the sail is the huge school of dolphins that always greets you once you get out of the harbor. Seriously, there must be hundreds of them, and every time I've been to Catalina, they're always there, swimming along with the boat, frolicking and playing in the bow wave.

It's like they know they're a big attraction, because they always show up and swim right up next to the boat--sometimes close enough to touch! And you can see them almost laughing as they smack the water with their tails, splashing those of us who dare get too close. You can easily tell that they're having just as much fun as we are.



It takes a few hours to sail from Avalon to Two Harbors, but with Jimmy Buffett providing the soundtrack and a huge school of dolphins providing the escort, the trip is always over much too quickly.

But dolphins aren't the only thing swimming in the waters off of Catalina. One time I was at the helm of a 47-footer, with a few other folks aboard, and Eddie W. was up on the port bow, chillin' out with his feet dangling over the side. Somebody noticed a dorsal fin of a six-foot blue shark about ten feet away, pointed, and yelled Shark! and I about pissed myself laughing watching Eddie jump three feet straight up in the air from a flat sitting position. He managed to get all of his extremities back inside the boat, but he almost went overboard doing it.

Anyhow, Two Harbors is the polar opposite of Avalon. Where Avalon has paved streets, shops, bars, restaurants and lots of stuff to do, Two Harbors is kinda like going camping. There just ain't much going on down at that end of the island. Yeah, the main harbor is a huge cove, but as far as amenities go, all they have is a general store, a bar, two restaurants, some public restrooms, and a bunch of picnic tables and palm trees on the beach.

Why do they call it Two Harbors? Well, it's because it's located at the skinniest part of the island, the isthmus, which at that point is only a few hundred yards across. The main cove, located on the front of the island, is the area they call "Two Harbors", and the one on the backside is called "Cat Harbor". It offers more protection and better anchoring, but it takes several more hours to sail there, so we usually just stay on the front side.

The photo below, taken from a hillside above Cat Harbor on the backside of the island, gives a good overview of the Isthmus. Clickie for full-sized goodness. You gotta be careful when wandering around up there in the hills--there is a herd of wild buffalo that have been there since back in the thirties, and you don't wanna mess with them. They used to film westerns out on the island back in the old days, and the buffaloes the studios brought out there are the ancestors of the local herd that still runs wild.


This photo, taken from a hillside on the front of the island, shows the main harbor:


This is the view from the deck of a sailboat while tied to a mooring ball in the harbor. Not a bad place to spend the weekend, huh?


This is a boots sandals-on-the-ground photo of the area just beyond the beach at the Isthmus. There are plenty of picnic tables and BBQ grills


I prefer to hang out here instead of Avalon--it's much quieter and more laid back, and you can do stuff like grill dinner on the beach or have a bonfire. And it's not crowded with tourists, either--ferry boats or cruise ships are nowhere to be found. And because of the lack of civilization in the area, on a clear night, the stars are amazing.

Back in the day, Eddie and I stayed up half the night sitting at one of the picnic tables watching the fire burn down to embers and working our way through a case of beer and a couple of cigars. This was during the worst part of the recession about eight years ago, and I'd just been laid off and Eddie had gotten a demotion. After a few beers, Eddie suggested that we just say the hell with it and move to the island permanently, maybe pumping gas at the fuel dock or pouring drinks at the beach bar. Since I was doing absolutely nothing with my time back then, I was all for it, and in the moment, it sounded like a great idea. We still talk about that conversation and that night--there's nothing quite so enjoyable as sitting with your toes in the sand and a drink in your hand, watching the fire burn down and the moon rise up over the ocean, all while daydreaming of walking away from the real world.

Even though we never quite followed up on that plan, we've still made it back there a few times to grill steaks and drink beers on the beach. And after a full day of sailing and being a beach bum, there's no better way to sleep than with the hatches open and gazing up at the stars until you can't keep your eyes open any longer, the gentle swaying of the boat lulling you to sleep.

But the first thing you do when you arrive at Two Harbors is to hit the Harbor Reef outdoor bar for a Buffalo Milk. I don't know what's in it--maybe Kahlua, vodka, creme de cocoa, and some other stuff. But it's the official drink of the island and it is strangely addicting. It doesn't taste like it's very potent, but after about three or four of them, don't be surprised if you find yourself dancing with a stranger under the palm trees and removing various articles of clothing to compare tattoos. So I've heard... And after you make a few new friends at the bar, sitting around the fire later in the evening is just that much more enjoyable.

But that's about all there is to do out there unless you're scuba diving or snorkeling. And that's just fine with me. I'm cool with just hanging out amongst the palm trees and enjoying the eye candy of a harbor full of boats at anchor. But like any other camping trip, we'll spend the day playing horseshoes or cards, maybe hiking around a little bit and taking pictures, but if the weather is nice, nothing beats sitting there at the outdoor bar overlooking the water, sipping on buffalo milk and telling a few lies.

As much as we'd like to keep the boat and stay for a month, it always seems that much too soon, it's time to head back to the mainland and give the boat back to the real owners. The return trip isn't nearly as fun as the trip out, but I think that's probably the rule as far as weekend getaways go. And while it's not the Caribbean or the South Pacific, it's still an island and it's still an adventure, and that's why I like to get out there whenever I can.

Mikey

Another One Coming!

Hey gang--three posts in one day just ain't enough, is it?

Well, I've been working on another one, which I thought would take about an hour or so, but it's taken on a life of it's own and it's turning into a monster. However, I need to go to bed and catch a couple hours of sleep because I'm working a graveyard shift later tonight.

But at some point tomorrow morning, you'll have a monster post with lots of pictures and stories to enjoy.

Until then, have a nice evening. I'm going to bed.

Mikey

Another Weird Night

Ok, so yesterday, I went in to work in the middle of the night, worked for three-and-a-half hours, made a nice little score, saw a couple of my favorite ladies, and came home by five am.

I tried to stay up until seven and head to the polls, but then I figured there would be a line and I had the entire day off, so I let myself fall asleep till around noon. I got back up, drove on down to my precinct, and ran the voter intimidation gauntlet they had set up outside the gymnasium at the school where I vote. Nope, it wasn't the black panther thugs and their billy-clubs like in Philadelphia, it was a bunch of kids and soccer milfs selling candy, hotdogs, popcorn, and sodas to raise money for the high-school musical next spring.

I dropped 'em a couple of bucks and took a can of Coke with me, and thought about going out for some Vietnamese food for lunch to tip my hat to Grumpy John and his five years of hard time--I had a feeling I was about to do four of my own... That thought kinda killed my appetite, so I just skipped lunch altogether and came back home. I tried watching TV, reading, dozing, but nothing seemed to work. I even tried some online poker, but the servers were running slow, so I un-registered myself from the tournament I'd signed up for.

Thinking I needed to get my sleep schedule adjusted for my upcoming graveyard shifts, I turned off the lights and the TV around six or so. At 6:55 pm, that familiar poker-room ring was going off right next to my head, asking if I could come in and work for a few hours. Oh hell yeah I could--I told 'em I'd be there before the 7:30 dealer push.

We had four games going, and luckily one of them was a nice no-limit game. There were only five dealers on hand including myself, so that meant two straight hours in the box, followed by a half hour break, then lather, rinse, and repeat. I made really good money while I was there, but at 10:30, they broke my 4/8 game, meaning that I'd get sent home by 11. Right about that time, the floor guy freaked out a little, asking me "Why didn't you tell me you already worked today!?!?!?". I said that I was on the top of the daily schedule, showing that I'd already worked this morning, and since it was swamped, I was doing a split shift.

He hadn't noticed, for some reason, but just the other day I had a talk with the boss and she said it was cool for me to work split shifts. I explained that to him, but I think he thought he was gonna get in trouble for having me come back in, like it was overtime or something. I don't know about that, but I sure as hell wasn't going to turn down a shift, especially a juicy swing-shift opportunity. The bottom line is that I worked another four hours, doubled up on what I made that morning, and was pretty happy that I had the chance to go in and make some good money.

Oh, and the first person I saw when I got there, my gal Michelle, the very first cocktail waitress in this town to ever offer me her phone number. She works the same shift as Kimmy, and I hadn't seen her in a couple of months, either. So that was like another little bonus.

Anyhow, after work, I came home, turned on the TV and saw the news, and proceeded to kill about a half a bottle of rum. Even worse, while at work, I could feel the tingle in my throat, and by the time I got home, I had a full-on head cold--sore throat and sinus congestion. I took a hot-as-I-could-stand-it shower, took some medicine and now here I am, still wide awake. The rum is not helping.

I have to go back in to work tonight at 1 am. I hope I'm feeling a little better by then, but right now, I'm a mouth-breather with a headache.

Mikey

A Shout Out To Big Tex

So, why do I hate Pepsi? And do I hate all Pepsi products?

The quick and dirty answer to the first question is "Because it tastes like shiat". Seriously, I hate the taste of it--it's way too sweet and it doesn't mix well with booze at all. You ever had a Malibu and Coke? It's not bad. But get a Malibu and Pepsi, and oh holy hell does it ever suck. There's something about original Coca Cola that I really like--the satisfying 'burn' that goes with it when you first have a sip, and Pepsi just doesn't match that when you take a drink--it tastes like a cheap imposter.

Also, the only reason, I think, that Pepsi even competes with Coke around the globe is because of clever marketing, not because of having a superior product. Kids like it because it's got more sugar in it, but I've never liked the taste--I've always been a Coke person, and when I can't get it at a casino/bar/restaurant, it really irritates me. Hell, Station Casinos, my employer, is a Pepsi joint and it irritates me to no end. However, there is an independent Fatburger outlet not far from the poker room, and Fatburger sells Coke. So I can always go there when I'm thirsty for a soft drink.

Another thing--Coke is a product of the South. It's headquartered in Atlanta. Pepsi's headquarters is in New York. That right there should tell you all you need to know. Being an erstwhile southern gentleman, I prefer Coke. Y'all can keep that yankee swill north of the Mason-Dixon line, thank you very much!

As far as the other pepsi products go, I don't care for them, but they don't draw my outright disdain. Sierra Mist is ok, although I like Sprite better. Mug root beer is ok, but it doesn't even come close to IBC, or even A&W for that matter. Mountain Dew has it's place, and I certainly drink it whenever I need to stay awake--like when I'm on a long road trip or something like that. The worst thing they've come up with, besides regular Pepsi, of course, is Slice. That shiat just plain sucks, and I don't know anyone who likes it.

Now you know.

Mikey

Keep the Change

Let's just get this out of the way, shall we...

It appears that my countrymen have spoken, and they seem to be in favor of higher taxes, bigger government, and accommodating our enemies. Why, I do not understand. Oh well, I guess I'll have to learn to live with it, kinda like having a toothache and no dental insurance.

I just hope that the followers of The One are more gracious in victory than they have been during the campaign. Now, hopefully, they can come out of the shadows and stop spamming my comments section anonymously. Or they can simply move on, satisfied with their victory. They now have the reins of power, I hope they use them wisely. Me, on the other hand, I'm now firmly in the anti-establishment camp, and one thing I've learned from the lefties over the past eight years is that dissent is the highest form of patriotism, so I'm all over that.

Anyhow, now that I've consumed several plates of crow and downed a few bottles of What The Fuck Are You People Thinking? juice, I'm now in my half-crocked happy place. Life goes on, the sun still rises in the east and I'm still lucky enough to be a citizen of the best country in the history of mankind. One socialist politician can't ruin it, try as he might. But seriously--Ohio, you're dead to me now. Same goes for you, Pennsylvania. I now have the same disdain for you clowns as I do for Pepsi, Harrah's, Billy Mays, the Yankees, crunchy peanut butter, HOV lanes, and the people who sell printer ink.

My only thought is, I wonder how long it takes before buyer's remorse sets in with all of the folks that voted blue. Honestly, I wish the Community Organizer in Chief well--I truly hope he's up to the task before him. But deep down, I'm afraid that he's gonna end up making Jimmy Carter look like Thomas fucking Jefferson.

Tuesday Morning Quickie

Howdy all! I just got home from work, and I'm killin' time before I go down and cancel out a hippie's vote, so I thought I'd post a quick update.

I was snoozin' last night around midnight, when the phone rang, and there were a couple of games going on down at the poker room that looked like they'd go all night. So I gladly picked up a shift.

Driving in, I was sitting at the stoplight about a half-mile from the casino, and across the intersection, I saw a familiar-looking SUV with a hot blonde at the wheel. Yep, it was Beth--she even had her window down (she's a smoker) so I could easily see her. So I honked and waved. Once she recognized my front license plate, she waved back. But then the light turned green and I passed on by. When I got to work and parked my truck, I saw Kimmy's car sitting there--she was still at work, but I knew she'd be leaving very soon, so I hoped I'd run into her, too.

As soon as I got off the elevator, I saw her walking towards me, looking as smoking hot as ever (I haven't even seen her in over two months). So she stopped to chat and we caught up for a few minutes, making me late. Oh well, it was worth it. The gal still makes me ache a little, though. But it was a nice way to kick off my workday.

Once I got to the poker room, there were two pretty good games going, and they looked like they'd go all night. But by 3:30 this morning, one guy had completely wiped out the no-limit game, so all that we had left was a full 4-8 game. The money was decent, so I was glad to be there, but then the Bad Beat Jackpot hit again! That's good and bad. I didn't deal it, and it didn't even hit at our casino, so I had no chance of having another thousand dollar day. But then the game loosened up quite a bit--the pots got huge because everyone knew they were about to get several hundred dollars in jackpot money.

It took about an hour to get the paperwork done and figure the payouts, but in addition to my regular tokes, I pulled in a decent staff share, too. But the problem was, as soon as everyone got paid, the game pretty much broke up after that. So by 5:00 am, the poker room was completely dead and both me and the other dealer got sent home--no use sitting around waiting for the old farts to show up in the morning, because there was another dealer scheduled at 7:00 am anyways.

So even though I didn't pick up a full shift, I made enough in the four hours that I was there that it felt like a full shift. I'll take that every time!

Anyhow, I bailed out, stopped at the gas station and filled up my truck with some tasty $2.59-per-gallon gas, which is just thirteen cents more per gallon than I paid on the day I arrived here almost four years ago. (The only reason I know this is because I had a U-haul truck, and then a rental car, and I kept detailed records of all my moving expenses). I can live with that. Not wanting coffee, I opted for a fountain coke and a blueberry muffin from the attached convenience store and came on home. I'm avoiding the news until tonight, but I have no idea what I'm going to do once I get home from my local polling place. Maybe go to bed and try to sleep for awhile.

Anyhow, that's been my day so far... I'll probably post some more stuff later.

Mikey

The New Poker Room

Earlier this morning, when I was making that post about my long day at the poker tournaments down at Binion's, I almost incorporated the info about their new poker room, but I figured that it deserved a stand-alone post.

Anyhow, those people that know me know that Binion's Horseshoe was always my favorite casino in Vegas. I've been going there for years, and for a long time, there was no place I'd rather spend my hard-earned cash than at the Binion's dice tables, sipping rum drinks and smoking cigars with my buddies.

I always liked the seediness of the place, the blue haze of decades-old cigar smoke that hung around the ceiling, the old-school dice dealers, and the ancient waitresses that always called you 'hon' or 'sugar' and always remembered what you drank, even if they hadn't seen you in six months. Hell, even the funky smell of the place was alluring, once you'd been there a time or two. And who could forget the clickers they used in the pit to summon the waitresses? On the weekends, the dice pit sounded like a cricket orgy.

But those were the good old days. I discovered the place at the tail-end of those glory days, long after Benny had passed, just as his incompetent daughter was taking the reigns. After a couple of years of her anti-Midas touch, the place turned to shiat, creditors came calling, regulators moved in and seized the assets, and it sat empty for several months--a sad black hole in the middle of Fremont Street.

It re-opened a few months later, with the help of a 'benefactor'. Turns out that the Evil Empire was living up to it's name and wasn't there to return Binion's to it's former glory, but like I mentioned earlier in the week, it was only there to rape the corpse and steal the crown jewels of Benny's legacy--the Horseshoe name and the rights to the World Series of Poker. Once they scavenged that meat from the carcass, they moved on, back to fleecing the fanny-pack wearing tourists down on the Strip whose sole concern was trying not to drool on their shirts while pounding away at the slot machines.

What was left was nothing but a hollow shell, a building with no soul, a dusty warehouse of black-and-white Vegas memories. After Harrah's left, new ownership tried to bring a spark to the place, but their experience lied with slot-joints and Indian casinos, so it seemed destined to be another failure in the spot that had seen so many successes in years past.

Enter Terry Caudill and TLC Casino Enterprises. Who would've ever thought that they'd be the white knight, rescuing the Binion's legacy? After taking over the Four Queens in 2003, he turned the formerly dumpy property into a money-making machine, increasing cash flow by more than 100%. I started noticing the changes over a year ago--the renovations were nice and all, and the casino seemed much cleaner and brighter than years past, but the thing that really struck me was, believe it or not, the main bathrooms just off the casino floor. Usually, visiting the men's room in a downtown casino was a dicey affair, but I distinctly remember being in there one night and thinking Holy shiat--this bathroom is every bit as nice as the can at the Mirage or Bellagio! I know it's weird, but I was really almost blown away by the bathroom remodel job at the Four Queens. And when you coupled that with the new cigar lounge they put in that overlooks the casino, well, I became a believer. The new owner seemed to be getting it right.

It seems that he learned a bit from the experience at the Four Queens, and now that he controls Binion's, he seems to be doing all he can to return it to it's proper place in the Fremont Street hierarchy. None of the older casinos will ever be as nice as the Golden Nugget, but that's not the point. Benny's philosophy was that Binion's is first and foremost the place to gamble and drink, the other amenities always took a back seat. That was their niche, and they filled it admirably. And the new Binion's is getting it right. They've damn near doubled the number of table games that were there in the bad old days when the place went under. The old gal got a good scrubbin', a new paint job, and all new carpeting and light fixtures. Everything in the casino is new--new tables, new chairs, a new layout, and improved traffic flow. Somehow, they've made the place feel bigger than it was.

They're still not finished yet, but they've really come a long way in the past year. Besides the new sports book that seemed to have sprung up overnight, the new cigar lounge, the expanded snack bar and the overall feel of the place, they spent a half a million dollars on a new poker room that just opened this week.

Binion's is where poker in Vegas got started, and now, they have the nicest poker room--by far--downtown, and it definitely gives the rooms on the Strip a run for their money. Granted, places like the Wynn, Hard Rock, Bellagio, and Venetian are in a class by themselves, but for a smaller room, it's now the class of Vegas.

I was there yesterday and took a few pictures. Here they are:

The 'lobby' of the new poker room is fairly large, with the reception desk right up front and center. Besides the new fixtures and marble floor, the walls on either side of the desk feature pictures of famous poker players whose ghosts still haunt the place.


Waiting for a seat in a game? You can relax in one of the comfy chairs and watch the action outside in the casino. They have this same set-up on both sides of the desk, and they have ashtrays on the tables and bar service available, encouraging folks to sit and chill while they wait.


Just beyond the desk, you'll walk down a few steps and enter the inner sanctum--a cozy room with ten tables and eleven plasma screen TVs broadcasting news, sports, and horse races 24 hours a day.


The room is kind of dimly-lit, which is nice because nobody likes to play cards under harsh lighting. It also hearkens back to the old seediness that creates a cool ambiance, and I like the fact that it is about 80% walled off from the rest of the casino, so noise is not an issue, either. They also offer tableside dining service, so you can order some food from the snack bar and have it delivered while you're playing--there is no need to get up and leave except for a trip to the restroom.


All the tables and chairs are brand-spankin' new, obviously, so comfort is now a priority. And even though they could easily fit a couple more tables in there, they chose to make it a little less crowded, unlike the sardine-can room across the street at the Nugget. But the really cool thing is the large-format old-school pictures they have framed all over the walls. The photos are from the old World Series events back in the 70's featuring all of the classic players, and sitting in there is kinda like visiting a museum of poker history.


When I was there early in the morning, they had just one low-limit cash game going, but then again, back in the old tournament area, there were dozens of players milling around waiting to get their day started. But I've got to admit--I'm smitten by the new room, and whenever I'm downtown, that's where I'll most likely be found.

Mikey