Normal Website

Not a front for a secret organization.
Written by Rob Schultz (human).

Vegas 2.4

Apparently it was creepy to have a bunch of business men wander out during their lunch break to leer at the topless sunbathers, so the doors from the pool to the convention area were all locked up. I learned the hard way and walked all over the place. Lunch, then sending mail to kristy-girl. Then trying to get tickets to Penn & Teller. Apparently because the concierge doesn't like the show very much (re: it's not owned by the Wynn), he'd prefer not to sell me any tickets. Harrah's does own the Rio where the show is, but it turns out P&T aren't doing shows this week anyhow.

I went to the Imperial Palace. They have dealers that are lookalikes of Alice Cooper, Bette Midler, James Brown, and people I don't recognize. Too creepy for words. Found a game alone - still don't like that. Then with a nice crowd. I was in the process of making back some earlier losses and it was time to head back for dinner. I think I left there down a hundred bucks or so.

Dinner at the MGM, at Emeril's. Not a bad dinner, but still the worst I've had so far in this trip. Runny lobster bisque and steak with a lot of fat served on a big woodchip. From there to a casino bar to watch the Cavaliers start to lose a basketball game and Jamie to lose a few bucks along with 'em. I know my dad and I played tables there, but I barely remember them at this point. Presumably, that's another hundred dollars gone.

We walked to the Paris casino, which I do like. Hours of cards passed by. I started at a table with a dealer much like the one I really enjoyed a couple days ago, but after every loss he'd apologize profusely and explain why we lost and why it would be okay in the long run and how he was sure to bust and maybe we'd like to sit out a couple hands in case the luck changed and on and on and on. At first I thought the Paris might have a policy of dealers that expressly root for you, but this guy did WAY too much talking and slowed the game down to the extreme by talking with passers-by to suck them into the game in the middle of a hand. I got away from him and found a silent table, where people were actually playing cards. Just what I needed. I screwed up a hand for the player next to me, east Indian I think, and the manner he shrugged it off did make me feel better. The quiet table got to talking just a bit, and money was being reclaimed. Some really loud drunken women came by, won and then lost, I ended up with a few hands played one-on-one...still a terrible idea with six-deck blackjack. The waitress did bring me a few iced coffees though, and those were pretty good. Took some leftover money there to a populated table where I was dealt good cards, but the dealer kept getting better cards. Increased it a bit with a single deck game, and cashed out. Found my dad, enjoying Caribbean Poker but not winning a whole lot. Doubled what he had left on a craps table and cashed him out too.

Way too late in the night, with too many free drinks and the last day of the conference racing closer, we walked back to the Wynn, without the nice young lady on the sidewalk who offered to come with us. I probably lost a bunch of money today, but I'm not sure quite how much, and I'm officially to the point where I'm sick of all the card games. Tomorrow, Blue Man Group and, in all likelihood, more of the same.

(I think it works out that I've now got my whole original cache of cash, no winnings to speak of, and I've lost most of my daily allotment of gamble-dollars my dad brought along. Technically, that's breaking even, yeah?)