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Las Vegas Trip ReportAuthor: Jaco
Date of Trip: April 2008
Then I wake up. And reality hits me hard. I'm in Vegas, I've lost a lot of money, and my head feels like a piece of licorice getting squeezed between some fat slobbering chubby boy's cheeks while he watches a rerun of Goonies for the six hundredth time. And the phone is ringing. Loud.
I pick up the cordless right next to the bed. Usually an easy task to answer a cordless, unfortunately I had a slight case of early morning Vegas hangover-tardation. I couldn't get the frickin' thing to work.
Argh. I did my best sea lion impression and flopped out of bed, onto the floor, and wormed myself over to the desk where the old fashioned cord phone lay.
"Hello" I am amazed at how many octaves my voice dropped. I make Barry White sound like a soprano.
It's Whale Jo and seems he's ready to start the day. I look at the clock. Just a hair before 9:30 a.m. OK, why not. Turns out that Whale Jo stayed out a little later and made back everything he had lost at the Bellagio – all of it. This kind of action at the Wynn had put him on their radar and he was ready to take advantage of it. First order of business, he'd gone ahead and gotten his host to secure a cabana for the day.
Of course, before hitting the pool area, I needed some coffee . . . and I wanted to try a little taste of gaming.
I hit the floor and went to the little cafe in the drugstore at Wynn. The dude in front of me ordered some breakfast bagel – I almost threw up looking at it. I guess I wasn't quite ready for food. Just a good ole cup of black coffee. I think it cost $4, and I gave a $4 tip. I wanted to start the day off with a little generosity – hoping that Wynn's machine army would respond in kind.
I tracked Whale Jo down at the $5 VP machines – actually he was on the multi-line machines sitting just to the right of my former favorite machines. I looked at his credits – 400-something. Not bad. I should give it a try. I stuck a bill in and it disappeared in ten seconds.
Those machines are crack.
Whale Jo got his creds up to around 1,000 and cashed out. It was time to go visit the Jackpot Party machines.
I mean, why not – I'd already been humiliated by these devils, it was about time to feel a little love.
Nope. Not this morning. I got female dog-slapped. Sure, there were a couple times where I could get our credits up over $800 (Whale Jo and I were pooling money again) – actually, at one time we had $1,200 sitting in the machine. But . . . greed showed its ugly face and bit my head off. Soon I was laughing, almost crying, at the fact that I had fifty-five cents left in the machine. Ha. Ha. Ha. Well, perhaps it was a good time to check out the pool. Gambling could take a seat for a while.
Whale Jo and I headed to the pool area, checked in with the cabana host and had some little scrawny dude lead us to #111. Here's what I like about a cabana – it gives you a little privacy, has shade and sun, has a TV, and has free stuff. Also, you get noticed by the babies. Of course, were I a better looking Mog, those looks would be one of awe and not shock.
Here's what I don't like – and I know this will sound small, petty, and sexist – why do they have scrawny little twenty something dudes covering the cabanas? Seriously – I think they must type-case these dudes straight from some of those stupid poker shows on Bravo or Fuel . . . . I mean, come on, first off, they wear glasses that are way too big for their face, second, they've got enough petroleum products in their hair that they could probably get a free membership to OPEC, and they've got attitude.
Oh well, I had my space, so who really cares.
We ordered a little lunch and I proceeded to try and catch a quick nap. Whale Jo went to the pool casino area for some action. Eventually the food came, I ate it, then went to the pool casino as well.
Sigh. Same old story. I lost.
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