Two trips, six weeks apart--and they could not have been more different. Man, there’s a lot of differences between guys and dolls.
Just 6 weeks after getting home from the annual boys’ trip, it was back to Las Vegas with the wives to celebrate a milestone birthday. Strip accommodations, gambling at the Venetian, hanging out at Lagasse’s Stadium and even a show (we skipped) would replace the normal guys’ itinerary of golf, gambling, drinking, and, well, that’s usually about it.
And the gambling result six weeks ago: a net $150 win over 4 long days and nights. The result this time? Not as good. Not by a longshot.
This trip began with a family drive from Seattle to Portland, where Susie and I would drop off the kids with their aunt and uncle before flying out of PDX. No newsworthy items to report on there, so I’ll fast forward to McCarran’s plush new Terminal 3, where we hooked up with Lori (the birthday gal) and Joey, who were, for reasons unknown, dumping money into an airport slot.
We said hi, hugged it out, then grabbed a couple of cabs to the Strip to check in, they at the Venetian and we at the Flamingo. Susie had scored us a sweet deal, and for $180 we’d spend three nights in one of the Flamingo’s “FAB” rooms--the middle tier between regular (not remodeled) and GO (fully remodeled).
The FAB room was pretty sweet, with new floors and furnishings in the living/sleeping area and a nice view northbound over Project Linq, the IP and beyond. The bathroom was not, however, part of any recent remodeling. In fact, it was reminiscent of the bathroom Jonny Reno and I shared just 6 weeks ago at the Main Street. Take that as a positive or negative review as you like.
Susie and I settled in real quick, then fired up the text-a-ma-phones to hook up with Lori and Joey. They were a few minutes behind us, so I said we’d begin meandering up that way. “As soon as we find 4 seats at a video poker bar, I’ll send up a flare,” I texted.
For this couples trip (that I didn’t organize and would not be in charge of), I had already accepted a few truths about our gambling options. For example, I would have to lower my standards--obviously I was not going to find any full-pay video poker at or between the Flamingo and Venetian. And later, when we wanted to play cards, I would likely have to sit down at a $15 table and see what happens. So to start the trip, I was looking for was a bartop, preferably one at which the payout wasn’t too pitiful, but at which at least we’d enjoy snappy cocktail service as a trade-off. The Strip was crowded, and I didn’t find anything I liked until we hit the Casino Royale. It wasn’t bartop, but hey, there were 4 seats available in a bank of 8/5 Bonus machines, so I sent up that flare as Susie and I sat down.
“Cocktail?” we heard. Yeah. This would do.
Lori and Joey arrived just as we were being served our lickety-split second round, so they were lucky enough to order a round before their coats were off. Joey looked at me from the opposite end of the bank and said a word I’d hear again frequently that mid-week weekend:
“Shot?”
Yeah, this would do.
Susie and I each hit a four-of-a-kind, though not in a bonus-ed hand, but even so, I lost $40 to start the trip. By this time, Pete and Gina had arrived, declared the place a dump (duh), and politely demanded we move on. A farewell shot later, we headed to the Flamingo--or rather, the Margaritaville Casino. Pete had some luck there a while back, and was eager to repeat his experience. Joey and I stood behind him while he lost a few hands, then convinced him to take a walk into the Flamingo to see if we could find a better table.
(Was I silently wishing I was still up at the Casino Royale, trying to find 4 Aces and sucking down Coors Lights and tequila shots as fast as I pleased? I’ll let you answer that question on your own.)
But lo and behold, we found a $10 table right in front of Carlos & Charlie’s and let ‘er fly. I was red hot during the first shoe, and Joey was icy cold. Then the tables turned, with Joey winning all the money while I got pummeled. $96 later, it was finally time for bed.
Why is my wife awesome? Reason # 368: the next morning, she and I hopped in a cab to spend the day downtown. We cashed the POV coupon for the Golden Nugget 2-for-1 buffet (damn fine) and then wandered a bit. I had a couple of sports book tickets to cash at the Plaza from the previous month (UW over Utah, hee hee), so we cashed them, then redeemed some free play at the Go Go Golden Gate (I won $20 on the free play while Susie lost $20), then redeemed the POV $10 free play at the 4Q (didn’t cash), and, a few bloody marys later, found ourselves at the Main Street Station main bar, playing some bartop and hunting those elusive scratch tickets.
I started with Double Double bonus, hoping for a quick quad or two, but $60 or so later, was forced to reluctantly downshift to JoB. That helped quite a bit, and a nice little streak ended with a 4 of a kind to bring my loss down to a more palatable -$35. Our scratch tickets (Susie earned one too) were worth $2 each. No, really.
Ready for a break, but not hungry yet, and not yet ready to head back to the Strip, we meandered down to Binion’s to get a Million Dollar Photo. I lost another $40 playing penny 50-play while we waited for the shot to develop. Okay, let’s try some cards. At the Cal, the merciless dealer chased us away so fast we didn’t even had time to order a beer (-$40). Time to leave downtown!
We arrived to home base ready to enjoy some happy hour nachos at Carlos & Charlie’s. A huge plate of nachos and a couple of margaritas later, we were ready to see what kind of trouble our friends had gotten themselves into. The new shift was arriving, so we hooked up with the gang up at Lagasse’s Stadium. This was my first visit, and I have to say, it was amazing. The venue is an absolutely fantastic place to watch a game. We caught the end of the Thursday night game, and then it was time for some more gambling!
Harrah’s was packed with cowboys (it was the final NFR weekend), and individual seats were hard to come by, much less an empty table that was begging for $10 blackjack action. Pete, Gina, The Chad and a couple others opened up a $15 Pai Gow table while a few of us gabbed behind them. I for one was pretty gun-shy by now, having eked out a single, measly $20 win amid some brutally quick losses in our gambling sessions thus far.
As it turned out, I stayed off the tables for the rest of the evening, content to buy a couple drinks and chat.
Friday morning, we started our day with another 2-for-1 buffet breakfast, this one up at the Mirage. Another solid meal. Afterwards, Susie and I wandered up to the Wynn, partially to take in the sights, partially to get a bit of exercise, and partially on a hunt for a little Multi-Strike. In our wanderings, we could not manage to find 2 machines side-by-side, so we walked lots and played none, not an entirely terrible thing considering the slaughter than had gone on thus far.
While we meandered, we also texted, and eventually we came up with a plan: Susie, Joey, The Chad and I would head over to the Hofbrauhaus for a giant beer, then over to the Hard Rock for some video poker.
Hofbrauhaus = tasty giant beers.
While sipping our beers, we chatted a bit with The Chad about video poker. He had seen the game, even played the game a bit, but was not really clear on how a person could waste an entire afternoon playing the game. His limited experience had taught him that a vp machine was basically a money-swallowing slot, but he agreed to try the game as we sat with him and coached him along.
The Chad understands now.
We crossed the road, entered the Hard Rock (me thinking, ah, it’s been too long), strolled around and finally found a bank of nickel 3-play machines. I coached up The Chad, explaining the general strategy (hold low pairs over unmatched high cards, hold high cards when you got nothing else, etc.). After absorbing this information, he was ready for a cocktail. Not content to wait, he wandered to the bar to buy a round.
“Honey, what are you doing here?” asked a cocktailer who had seen him stroll up.
“We’re going to play some video poker, but need a cocktail…and she hasn’t come by yet,” explained The Chad.
“Well, that’s not my section, but I’ll bring your first round and let your gal know. Don’t buy drinks in here.”
God bless that gal, because the ensuing cocktail service was vintage Hard Rock: prove you’re a tipper, and you’re on your way. (The converse we’ve also seen first-hand: prove you’re a stiff, and you’re fucked.)
Many beers and a few (5 or 6) shots later, The Chad had learned how to flush a perfectly good afternoon down the toilet. And he was only down $20. But…oops…he and Joey were waaaaay behind schedule to get back to the Strip for their Show.
We promised we’d see them at the TI after the show.
A couple hours later, the gang showed up at the Hard Rock, shaking their heads at us, but ready to enjoy some more video poker, some cards, and a late-night snack.
During a dinner break, Susie and I had peeled ourselves away from our faithful nickel triple-plays--not down too much, maybe $20 or $40 or so--to have some tasty Mexican at the Pink Taco. But when we returned to the casino, the slaughter began anew. Friday’s HRH trip ended so poorly I didn’t write it down in my notes.
A modest loss at the nickel 3-play machine was followed by a more aggressive loss at some Multi-Strike, which was followed by a head-shaking amount at Super Times Pay. Argh.
I came up for air and staggered away to join the group in Mr. Lucky’s, where for the first time, the entire group convened. We enjoyed some shakes and grub, each according to his or her own level of hunger (and in my case, complete shitfaced-ness). Afterwards, there was some chatting and a couple more drinks, but I’m pretty sure that my wife at some point decided it’s time to take Mr. Charming home to the Flamingo.
Didn’t feel good Saturday morning.
So I took a walk over to the Westin to buy some coffees. The fresh air and caffeine helped a lot, and by the time Susie was ready to leave the room, I wasn’t in too bad a shape. Which was good, because there were a couple of Bowl Games starting up a Lagasse’s.
Susie and I were ahead of the group, so we stopped at the Palazzo’s Champagne Bar for some more assistance: a couple of bloody marys and some low-key video poker. The pay schedule was not good, but it was a quarter machine, and it wasn’t terrifying, so we sat down to get the drinks comped. Good thing we did, because I hit 4 Kings, starting Saturday’s Modest Comeback off just right.
Down at Lagasse’s, The Chad was convinced that Nevada-plus-8 (I think it was 8…whatever it was, it was enough) was a rock-solid-lock, so I jumped on that bet with him as we enjoyed a few buckets of Bud Light Lime (yes, I am ashamed, but it’s so tasty!) and I had a fantastic oyster po’ boy. Together, that potent combo really put me back in the saddle.
My second gambling win of the trip put me in an even finer mood, so when The Chad suggested that Utah State-minus-whatever was another rock-solid-lock I couldn’t help but jump on it. Glad I did because those guys covered too, keeping Saturday’s Modest Comeback rolling.
But of course, even this win was not without its complications.
It was time for Lori’s official birthday celebration, so before the game was over, it was time to join the gang for a few drinks in the Palazzo’s new Bourbon Room, an 80s butt rock joint created for the impending launch of the 80s butt rock musical, Rock of Ages.
When the DJ--dressed impeccably as Loverboy frontman Mike Reno (and yes, I did come up with his name on the spot with no help from the Interwebs)--found out Lori was the birthday gal, he immediately brought her a comp-ed shot of Honey Badger (equal parts Jager, bourbon and honey). Later, after winning the Walk Like An Egyptian Dance Contest, I was treated to my own Honey Badger shot.
It tastes like really good NyQuil.
All too soon, it was time to finish our drinks. A private room up at Firefly (awesome Tapas joint highlighted in the LVA more than once) awaited us.
But the goddam game still wasn’t over! Although I suppose I could have asked someone to cash the ticket for me, I wanted to do it myself. Lori and Joey were the only people actually staying at the Venetian, and they were leaving early Sunday morning. Everyone else was up at Bally’s. So while my wife got into the cab line, I waited for the final seconds of a second-half blowout to tick off. Finally, they did. I grabbed my cash and hot-footed it out to the cab stand, where Susie was just 2 off the front. Suh-weet!
Up at the Firefly, we enjoyed copious amounts of booze, tasty tapas, and fantastic desserts. A few toasts and speeches later, it was time for Susie and I to take off. Our airfare was so awesome in part because we’d leave on Saturday night. While not ideal, we figured most of the gang was leaving Sunday morning anyways, so we wouldn’t miss much. Plus, we told ourselves, we had an extra night on the front end with the birthday gal’s smaller circle of pals, so it really all worked out.
And Saturday’s Modest Comeback has me already optimistic about my next visit--and this time the fellas and I will be free to seek out good games instead of settling for crap. So bring it on!
Just 6 weeks after getting home from the annual boys’ trip, it was back to Las Vegas with the wives to celebrate a milestone birthday. Strip accommodations, gambling at the Venetian, hanging out at Lagasse’s Stadium and even a show (we skipped) would replace the normal guys’ itinerary of golf, gambling, drinking, and, well, that’s usually about it.
And the gambling result six weeks ago: a net $150 win over 4 long days and nights. The result this time? Not as good. Not by a longshot.
This trip began with a family drive from Seattle to Portland, where Susie and I would drop off the kids with their aunt and uncle before flying out of PDX. No newsworthy items to report on there, so I’ll fast forward to McCarran’s plush new Terminal 3, where we hooked up with Lori (the birthday gal) and Joey, who were, for reasons unknown, dumping money into an airport slot.
We said hi, hugged it out, then grabbed a couple of cabs to the Strip to check in, they at the Venetian and we at the Flamingo. Susie had scored us a sweet deal, and for $180 we’d spend three nights in one of the Flamingo’s “FAB” rooms--the middle tier between regular (not remodeled) and GO (fully remodeled).
The FAB room was pretty sweet, with new floors and furnishings in the living/sleeping area and a nice view northbound over Project Linq, the IP and beyond. The bathroom was not, however, part of any recent remodeling. In fact, it was reminiscent of the bathroom Jonny Reno and I shared just 6 weeks ago at the Main Street. Take that as a positive or negative review as you like.
Susie and I settled in real quick, then fired up the text-a-ma-phones to hook up with Lori and Joey. They were a few minutes behind us, so I said we’d begin meandering up that way. “As soon as we find 4 seats at a video poker bar, I’ll send up a flare,” I texted.
For this couples trip (that I didn’t organize and would not be in charge of), I had already accepted a few truths about our gambling options. For example, I would have to lower my standards--obviously I was not going to find any full-pay video poker at or between the Flamingo and Venetian. And later, when we wanted to play cards, I would likely have to sit down at a $15 table and see what happens. So to start the trip, I was looking for was a bartop, preferably one at which the payout wasn’t too pitiful, but at which at least we’d enjoy snappy cocktail service as a trade-off. The Strip was crowded, and I didn’t find anything I liked until we hit the Casino Royale. It wasn’t bartop, but hey, there were 4 seats available in a bank of 8/5 Bonus machines, so I sent up that flare as Susie and I sat down.
“Cocktail?” we heard. Yeah. This would do.
Lori and Joey arrived just as we were being served our lickety-split second round, so they were lucky enough to order a round before their coats were off. Joey looked at me from the opposite end of the bank and said a word I’d hear again frequently that mid-week weekend:
“Shot?”
Yeah, this would do.
Susie and I each hit a four-of-a-kind, though not in a bonus-ed hand, but even so, I lost $40 to start the trip. By this time, Pete and Gina had arrived, declared the place a dump (duh), and politely demanded we move on. A farewell shot later, we headed to the Flamingo--or rather, the Margaritaville Casino. Pete had some luck there a while back, and was eager to repeat his experience. Joey and I stood behind him while he lost a few hands, then convinced him to take a walk into the Flamingo to see if we could find a better table.
(Was I silently wishing I was still up at the Casino Royale, trying to find 4 Aces and sucking down Coors Lights and tequila shots as fast as I pleased? I’ll let you answer that question on your own.)
But lo and behold, we found a $10 table right in front of Carlos & Charlie’s and let ‘er fly. I was red hot during the first shoe, and Joey was icy cold. Then the tables turned, with Joey winning all the money while I got pummeled. $96 later, it was finally time for bed.
Why is my wife awesome? Reason # 368: the next morning, she and I hopped in a cab to spend the day downtown. We cashed the POV coupon for the Golden Nugget 2-for-1 buffet (damn fine) and then wandered a bit. I had a couple of sports book tickets to cash at the Plaza from the previous month (UW over Utah, hee hee), so we cashed them, then redeemed some free play at the Go Go Golden Gate (I won $20 on the free play while Susie lost $20), then redeemed the POV $10 free play at the 4Q (didn’t cash), and, a few bloody marys later, found ourselves at the Main Street Station main bar, playing some bartop and hunting those elusive scratch tickets.
I started with Double Double bonus, hoping for a quick quad or two, but $60 or so later, was forced to reluctantly downshift to JoB. That helped quite a bit, and a nice little streak ended with a 4 of a kind to bring my loss down to a more palatable -$35. Our scratch tickets (Susie earned one too) were worth $2 each. No, really.
Ready for a break, but not hungry yet, and not yet ready to head back to the Strip, we meandered down to Binion’s to get a Million Dollar Photo. I lost another $40 playing penny 50-play while we waited for the shot to develop. Okay, let’s try some cards. At the Cal, the merciless dealer chased us away so fast we didn’t even had time to order a beer (-$40). Time to leave downtown!
We arrived to home base ready to enjoy some happy hour nachos at Carlos & Charlie’s. A huge plate of nachos and a couple of margaritas later, we were ready to see what kind of trouble our friends had gotten themselves into. The new shift was arriving, so we hooked up with the gang up at Lagasse’s Stadium. This was my first visit, and I have to say, it was amazing. The venue is an absolutely fantastic place to watch a game. We caught the end of the Thursday night game, and then it was time for some more gambling!
Harrah’s was packed with cowboys (it was the final NFR weekend), and individual seats were hard to come by, much less an empty table that was begging for $10 blackjack action. Pete, Gina, The Chad and a couple others opened up a $15 Pai Gow table while a few of us gabbed behind them. I for one was pretty gun-shy by now, having eked out a single, measly $20 win amid some brutally quick losses in our gambling sessions thus far.
As it turned out, I stayed off the tables for the rest of the evening, content to buy a couple drinks and chat.
Friday morning, we started our day with another 2-for-1 buffet breakfast, this one up at the Mirage. Another solid meal. Afterwards, Susie and I wandered up to the Wynn, partially to take in the sights, partially to get a bit of exercise, and partially on a hunt for a little Multi-Strike. In our wanderings, we could not manage to find 2 machines side-by-side, so we walked lots and played none, not an entirely terrible thing considering the slaughter than had gone on thus far.
While we meandered, we also texted, and eventually we came up with a plan: Susie, Joey, The Chad and I would head over to the Hofbrauhaus for a giant beer, then over to the Hard Rock for some video poker.
Hofbrauhaus = tasty giant beers.
While sipping our beers, we chatted a bit with The Chad about video poker. He had seen the game, even played the game a bit, but was not really clear on how a person could waste an entire afternoon playing the game. His limited experience had taught him that a vp machine was basically a money-swallowing slot, but he agreed to try the game as we sat with him and coached him along.
The Chad understands now.
We crossed the road, entered the Hard Rock (me thinking, ah, it’s been too long), strolled around and finally found a bank of nickel 3-play machines. I coached up The Chad, explaining the general strategy (hold low pairs over unmatched high cards, hold high cards when you got nothing else, etc.). After absorbing this information, he was ready for a cocktail. Not content to wait, he wandered to the bar to buy a round.
“Honey, what are you doing here?” asked a cocktailer who had seen him stroll up.
“We’re going to play some video poker, but need a cocktail…and she hasn’t come by yet,” explained The Chad.
“Well, that’s not my section, but I’ll bring your first round and let your gal know. Don’t buy drinks in here.”
God bless that gal, because the ensuing cocktail service was vintage Hard Rock: prove you’re a tipper, and you’re on your way. (The converse we’ve also seen first-hand: prove you’re a stiff, and you’re fucked.)
Many beers and a few (5 or 6) shots later, The Chad had learned how to flush a perfectly good afternoon down the toilet. And he was only down $20. But…oops…he and Joey were waaaaay behind schedule to get back to the Strip for their Show.
We promised we’d see them at the TI after the show.
A couple hours later, the gang showed up at the Hard Rock, shaking their heads at us, but ready to enjoy some more video poker, some cards, and a late-night snack.
During a dinner break, Susie and I had peeled ourselves away from our faithful nickel triple-plays--not down too much, maybe $20 or $40 or so--to have some tasty Mexican at the Pink Taco. But when we returned to the casino, the slaughter began anew. Friday’s HRH trip ended so poorly I didn’t write it down in my notes.
A modest loss at the nickel 3-play machine was followed by a more aggressive loss at some Multi-Strike, which was followed by a head-shaking amount at Super Times Pay. Argh.
I came up for air and staggered away to join the group in Mr. Lucky’s, where for the first time, the entire group convened. We enjoyed some shakes and grub, each according to his or her own level of hunger (and in my case, complete shitfaced-ness). Afterwards, there was some chatting and a couple more drinks, but I’m pretty sure that my wife at some point decided it’s time to take Mr. Charming home to the Flamingo.
Didn’t feel good Saturday morning.
So I took a walk over to the Westin to buy some coffees. The fresh air and caffeine helped a lot, and by the time Susie was ready to leave the room, I wasn’t in too bad a shape. Which was good, because there were a couple of Bowl Games starting up a Lagasse’s.
Susie and I were ahead of the group, so we stopped at the Palazzo’s Champagne Bar for some more assistance: a couple of bloody marys and some low-key video poker. The pay schedule was not good, but it was a quarter machine, and it wasn’t terrifying, so we sat down to get the drinks comped. Good thing we did, because I hit 4 Kings, starting Saturday’s Modest Comeback off just right.
Down at Lagasse’s, The Chad was convinced that Nevada-plus-8 (I think it was 8…whatever it was, it was enough) was a rock-solid-lock, so I jumped on that bet with him as we enjoyed a few buckets of Bud Light Lime (yes, I am ashamed, but it’s so tasty!) and I had a fantastic oyster po’ boy. Together, that potent combo really put me back in the saddle.
My second gambling win of the trip put me in an even finer mood, so when The Chad suggested that Utah State-minus-whatever was another rock-solid-lock I couldn’t help but jump on it. Glad I did because those guys covered too, keeping Saturday’s Modest Comeback rolling.
But of course, even this win was not without its complications.
It was time for Lori’s official birthday celebration, so before the game was over, it was time to join the gang for a few drinks in the Palazzo’s new Bourbon Room, an 80s butt rock joint created for the impending launch of the 80s butt rock musical, Rock of Ages.
When the DJ--dressed impeccably as Loverboy frontman Mike Reno (and yes, I did come up with his name on the spot with no help from the Interwebs)--found out Lori was the birthday gal, he immediately brought her a comp-ed shot of Honey Badger (equal parts Jager, bourbon and honey). Later, after winning the Walk Like An Egyptian Dance Contest, I was treated to my own Honey Badger shot.
It tastes like really good NyQuil.
All too soon, it was time to finish our drinks. A private room up at Firefly (awesome Tapas joint highlighted in the LVA more than once) awaited us.
But the goddam game still wasn’t over! Although I suppose I could have asked someone to cash the ticket for me, I wanted to do it myself. Lori and Joey were the only people actually staying at the Venetian, and they were leaving early Sunday morning. Everyone else was up at Bally’s. So while my wife got into the cab line, I waited for the final seconds of a second-half blowout to tick off. Finally, they did. I grabbed my cash and hot-footed it out to the cab stand, where Susie was just 2 off the front. Suh-weet!
Up at the Firefly, we enjoyed copious amounts of booze, tasty tapas, and fantastic desserts. A few toasts and speeches later, it was time for Susie and I to take off. Our airfare was so awesome in part because we’d leave on Saturday night. While not ideal, we figured most of the gang was leaving Sunday morning anyways, so we wouldn’t miss much. Plus, we told ourselves, we had an extra night on the front end with the birthday gal’s smaller circle of pals, so it really all worked out.
And Saturday’s Modest Comeback has me already optimistic about my next visit--and this time the fellas and I will be free to seek out good games instead of settling for crap. So bring it on!
