09.06.2015 Just Like Billy Sunday, in a Shotgun Ragtime Band
Hey Now! Ramble On Roja. First stop this fine morning after waiting 10 minutes for an elevator with room left in it, was the Wally Shorty.
Sweet Ti called, she's up early yet again today. At Cocaine Vegas, Reneee is off so Ethyl ( my mother's first name) hooks me up. I wade once more thru the WWR (Wide World of Rassling) and serve up some Java. While we eat, I once again preach to my Sweet Ti about the Spa. I've been trying to get her to go and relax or get a pampering of some kind, but she has been reluctant. But today I put my size 7˝ flip flop down. SLAM! She gives in. Good. My plan this morning is to Ramble On over on a mini chip run. I didn't have a chance to get any from SLS or Westgate on my last shortened trip. Time to make amends. And then to Sliver Sevens, to finalize our plans for tomorrow with Ziggy. Oh- I forgot to tell y'all, we are taking them out to dinner tomorrow. More on that later. Right now WheelieŽ is thirsty.
I roll him down the hallway to stock up at the icemaker. I patiently wait behind a couple of Rassling Groupies who are filling up valet laundry bags with ice. They leave the floor askew with ice. You know I wouldn't mind all these peoples, but just about all of them are downright rude. They never smile or even nod their heads. Not even eye contact. Smiles are the same in any lingo. I deposit WheelieŽ, grab the keys, passionatly kiss Sweet Ti and am off to the races. Once again I join the Las Vegas 500.
Around to Paradise, I find the self park. A security guard is waiting at the entrance and waves me through. That's reassuring considering the neighborhood. I find a spot across from the elevators for Roja, and notice some people waiting for a lift. Always take this pic.
Never know when those pesky short term memory synapses will fail to fire. I walk up to this really interesting trio. They are very polite, and by the time the doors open we are like one big happy family. My KIND of Hippies!
We walk across the valet park pickup/drop off area thru the giant glass entrance. They take off for their rooms. Laters!
SLS is your basic industrial strength casino. No such thing as ceiling tiles here. They are proud of their ductwork. And their LED skills...
I hit the cage for a chip and a coin? Nope, just a chip. Getting harder to find tokens these days. Time to boogie woogie. Back to the elevators I find the reason for the delay earlier. Screw this shit, think I'll take the stairs. Worked out ok, by only at 9:30 a.m.
It's a 3 block ride up Paradise to the Westgate. Let's ride.
The last time I was here was back in '05. We drank at Quark's Bar. Y'all remember Quark's Bar right? It doesn't appear to be here anymore. And the walk to the casino didn't seem this far either. And you certainly didn't have to dodge Time Share Vultures like now.
I finally found it. Time to find a little Hippie's room. On the way in I pass the Cashier/Player's Club. 2 people working and a line of about 20 people. Back to business, almost inside I am stopped by a dude. Name of Cappy. He likes my beard, tells me a tale of his own beard.
Only in Vegas....
Well, there's still a crowd at the cage, so I try the pit. No dice. Well, in this case, no chip. The few tables that are open are full, and I'm not interrupting a game for a chip. I spot a different Monopoly game I've never seen. I'm a sucker for Monopoly. Jim?
I guess if I'm ever gonna get out of this place I'm gonna have to get it line.
15 minutes later I get my cash and chip, and figure out a way to get the hell out of this place.
Thank you, thank you very much.
Over at Sliver Sevens, Zig is holding court. Matt, Mark, and I play the part of the jesters. For my next trick, I insert coin. First hand.
It's gift day here at the
Sliver Sevens. 200 points gets you a Shark Pro Duster. I had my 200 pretty
quickly, and a chick named Mi that Ziggy knows really wants one. I already
promised Ziggy mine. She is playing next to me for .50 a hand. So she gives me
her card and tells me to earn her some points. No problem. Zip zap, just like
I tell Ziggy before I go that we are taking them to Casa di Amore. George Bugatti is playing the keys. Till tomorrow my friend!
I swear Air Supply has been following us around for years now. Sweet Ti calls me just as Roja and I are pulling in. She has been at the spa, and had a Collagen Facial. Whatever the hell that is. We meet at TGIF for lunch. She shows me the leftover collagen they gave her. Looks like placenta to me....But her face is certainly glowing. My beautiful lady. Jackie is our step and fetch girl. She's from an undisclosed Eastern European country. The reason it's undisclosed is that I forgot. She's all excited because the Rassling Team from her country is due to arrive tomorrow. Just what we need- more Rasslers. Sweet Ti orders a Long Island Iced Tea and I get a soda. We have pita chips and spinach dip, S.T. gets the Avocado BLT and I get half a sammich with french onion soup. She gets the soup too.
So after we eat, Sweet Ti wants to take a nap. So we part ways, and I go and find Hank Bonfish tending the Crawdad Bar. Time to insert coin. I'm feelin' it again. Not often enough am I feelin' it 2 days in a row. I bust it big. DDB. $1. Granted it's 9/5 but.....
Yet another fine afternoon of gaming here at Orleans. I want to go upstairs and see my Sweet Ti. Maybe this would be easier if I scored one of those track suits the Rasslers all wear with the name of their country on the back. I would blend right in. Except mine would say USA. About the only country I haven't seen represented yet. Pipedreams. I stop by and talk to our bubby Al the Security Dude. He tells me they have a real problem with these guys because they are staying 10-12 to a room. The limit is 4. Upstairs, Sweet Ti is just waking up. So I make it rain. As in hundys. She is pleased. Now she is going back for Spa Day Part 2. Think I'll go back to work.
Doing that DBDW/Boner Deluxe Rag
Ended up at the Poker Bar shortys. Sweet Ti is back in the room from the Spa. I'm toast.
For the day- coin in: 10100 BR +300.
09.07.2015 Fish Don't Fry in the Kitchen, Beans Don't Burn on the Grill