What Happens in Vegas Part II ...
On Thursday, we got up at 8:30 a.m., talked to Dustwitch #1 on the phone, and consumed a large in-the-room breakfast. Then I headed down to play in a hold'em tournament. I'll tell you about that tournament later.
After the tournament, I went to the comp table and found that with an additional 50 cents, I could almost buy a corned beef sandwich, so I did. I played more poker until 4 p.m., and then I just couldn't play any more. Then I hooked up with Jawbitch and her Cali friend Suzi. We took the monorail over to Bellagio because it wasn't there the last time Jawbitch and I were in Vegas 18 years ago, when we eloped. I'll show you the pictures in another post.
Finally, after the oggling was over, we took a cab back to the Grand, to get ready for the closing ceremonies. They had chemically activated "Hot Stuff" buttons. Jawbitch turned rings of light collars into a belt. Donna Summer was scheduled to play. Disco dancers dangled from wire hung contraptions which were supposed to be art. At nine, after I ate some carved meat and had a glass of champagne, I couldn't stay awake anymore. Plus, my back was really bothering me, so I left Jawbitch with Suzi and crashed back at the room. They must have had a whale of a time, as indicated by the photographic evidence of handsome foreign men being kissed by my wife, which I'll also post later.
Next morning, we packed, had breakfast with her aunt Janice and daughter Laura. After breakfast, I wanted to get an hour of blackjack in, but got interrupted during a winning streak for the baggage ticket. I had a slightly positive count on the deck, and two $25 bets on the table, which amounted to 20 counts each had, but the dealer pulled a 21. I rebet the same, doubled down on one hand and lost both hands again. So, I ended up down another $70. Janice drove us to the airport and we had a great direct Southwest flight back to the Peter J. McGowen-
I-Fucking-Love-Myself-Because-I'm-so-Conceited-that-
it-'s-not-Even-a-Memorial Airport.
After the tournament, I went to the comp table and found that with an additional 50 cents, I could almost buy a corned beef sandwich, so I did. I played more poker until 4 p.m., and then I just couldn't play any more. Then I hooked up with Jawbitch and her Cali friend Suzi. We took the monorail over to Bellagio because it wasn't there the last time Jawbitch and I were in Vegas 18 years ago, when we eloped. I'll show you the pictures in another post.
Finally, after the oggling was over, we took a cab back to the Grand, to get ready for the closing ceremonies. They had chemically activated "Hot Stuff" buttons. Jawbitch turned rings of light collars into a belt. Donna Summer was scheduled to play. Disco dancers dangled from wire hung contraptions which were supposed to be art. At nine, after I ate some carved meat and had a glass of champagne, I couldn't stay awake anymore. Plus, my back was really bothering me, so I left Jawbitch with Suzi and crashed back at the room. They must have had a whale of a time, as indicated by the photographic evidence of handsome foreign men being kissed by my wife, which I'll also post later.
Next morning, we packed, had breakfast with her aunt Janice and daughter Laura. After breakfast, I wanted to get an hour of blackjack in, but got interrupted during a winning streak for the baggage ticket. I had a slightly positive count on the deck, and two $25 bets on the table, which amounted to 20 counts each had, but the dealer pulled a 21. I rebet the same, doubled down on one hand and lost both hands again. So, I ended up down another $70. Janice drove us to the airport and we had a great direct Southwest flight back to the Peter J. McGowen-
I-Fucking-Love-Myself-Because-I'm-so-Conceited-that-
it-'s-not-Even-a-Memorial Airport.
posted by G-man at 7:25 AM
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