Wednesday, January 13, 2016
I woke around 9 am somewhat hungover as I'd not just bought a six-pack the night before but since the 7-11 had a great price of $9.99 for a 12-pack of PBR, I went with that and drank them all. Luckily I had half of my BMT sub and some Frito-Lay Munchies snacks (also picked up the night before at 7-11) to sooth the stomach gurgles and a small handful of ibuprofen to settle the head and body aches. (I brought about 30 ibuprofen tablets with me to Vegas and I pretty much used 'em all by week's end.)
After watching a forgettable movie on the grainy old 21" CRT TV, I felt ready to go out and about around 11 am. I descended the stairway like Norma Desmond primping for my close-up with the eyes of my "adoring fans" aka the stalwart sentinels called blackjack dealers standing by their empty tables peering into my soul, beckoning it to join them in their dreary, desolate eternal Hell. Thankfully my soul stayed right where it was and I made my way intact to the nearby bus stop to head on down, finally, to The Strip.
The bus is called The Deuce. Why the Deuce? Well, beyond the obvious playing card reference it beats me. Maybe because it only went two ways...up and down The Strip? It was a double-decker affair (Oh snap! That's why it's The Deuce!) and I'd ridden it the last time I was in Vegas so it came as no surprise that it was one of the most economical and efficient ways to get up and down on The Strip. I had no particular destination in mind but since I was going to be attending the Penn & Teller show later at the Rio which is off The Strip a tad, not far from Caesar's Palace, I opted to get off at the close-by Mirage.
I needed caffeine badly so I walked over to my old haunt where I'd stayed almost four years earlier. Of course it's been totally remodeled since then and underwent two name changes. This was the present day Linq, of course, formerly the Quad and before that the Imperial Palace. The little shopping/eatery area was reminiscent of swanky places like the Grove in LA and had, thankfully, a Starbucks. Well, actually, what shopping/eatery place anywhere doesn't have a Starbucks? I sipped my hot coffee on this overcast and chilly early afternoon just people watching. Here the crowd was decidedly more upscale compared to Downtown. Much more upscale. There was even a cute Cupcake ATM outside a trendy cupcake shop. And for people braver than me when it comes to heights, the "High Roller" Ferris wheel...tallest in the world! (Our version in Orlando is the 5th tallest)
After wandering the walkways and casinos of the nearby venues I decided to eat a late lunch at Carlos and Charlie's in the Flamingo. 2-for-1 margaritas and the best Tacos Carnitas I've ever had made for a pleasant delight. But after my meal, I didn't keep the buzz going with more booze since it was actually making me more tired and achey. I shuffled at a snails pace to the free shuttle waiting area for a ride to the Rio and there broke down and tried my hand at some gambling of my own.
I put a $20 bill in a fancy, new-fangled flat screen LCD animated slot machine with all kinds of graphics, music and flashing lights. The buttons offered so many confusing choices including multiple lines and multiple denominations. I thought this was a penny slot? I had no idea what I was doing. I figured I'd play max lines and max bet multipliers with each spin assuming I'd get the best payoff. Within three minutes I was down to zero credits. No bonuses. No free spins. No razzle dazzle. Just the evil glowing machine saying "Give me yo' money, bitch!"
I walked away vowing to waste no more of my precious money when I spied some old school video poker machines in the corner. I figured this time I'd just play the minimum bet to let my money last longer. But after I inserted my $5 bill into it, I then noticed it was a $1 machine. So now I had only 5 shots. And, of course, I got 5 quick losses. No pretty graphics. No fanfare. Just a silent money sucking machine designed to kill the human spirit and stomp on it like a dirty bug. "Fuck this shit" I thought, as I actually flipped the stoic, innocent-acting machine off and stormed away. If I'd glanced back I'm pretty sure I'd have caught it laughing at me.
The show was good. I'd expected more for the (discounted) $60 I paid but a few of the acts were actually stunning making you scratch your head in the classic "How the fuck did they do that?" way. As always, Teller is completely silent but that's just as well because Penn wouldn't shut up! And a great amount of his verbal diarrhea was pertaining to his libertarian beliefs rather than the magic tricks so it was a little awkward. And I agree with his politics and views on religion! I can only imagine how it played with audience members who weren't in his camp, so to speak.
After the show, I caught the shuttle back to The Strip, hopped on The Deuce back to downtown and got my nightcap beer and grub on Fremont Street from a gift shop that sold 2 for $5 Foster oil cans and a hole-in-the-wall concession that offered over-priced, yet hot and filling Chicago-style chili dogs.
I woke around 9 am somewhat hungover as I'd not just bought a six-pack the night before but since the 7-11 had a great price of $9.99 for a 12-pack of PBR, I went with that and drank them all. Luckily I had half of my BMT sub and some Frito-Lay Munchies snacks (also picked up the night before at 7-11) to sooth the stomach gurgles and a small handful of ibuprofen to settle the head and body aches. (I brought about 30 ibuprofen tablets with me to Vegas and I pretty much used 'em all by week's end.)
After watching a forgettable movie on the grainy old 21" CRT TV, I felt ready to go out and about around 11 am. I descended the stairway like Norma Desmond primping for my close-up with the eyes of my "adoring fans" aka the stalwart sentinels called blackjack dealers standing by their empty tables peering into my soul, beckoning it to join them in their dreary, desolate eternal Hell. Thankfully my soul stayed right where it was and I made my way intact to the nearby bus stop to head on down, finally, to The Strip.
The bus is called The Deuce. Why the Deuce? Well, beyond the obvious playing card reference it beats me. Maybe because it only went two ways...up and down The Strip? It was a double-decker affair (Oh snap! That's why it's The Deuce!) and I'd ridden it the last time I was in Vegas so it came as no surprise that it was one of the most economical and efficient ways to get up and down on The Strip. I had no particular destination in mind but since I was going to be attending the Penn & Teller show later at the Rio which is off The Strip a tad, not far from Caesar's Palace, I opted to get off at the close-by Mirage.
I needed caffeine badly so I walked over to my old haunt where I'd stayed almost four years earlier. Of course it's been totally remodeled since then and underwent two name changes. This was the present day Linq, of course, formerly the Quad and before that the Imperial Palace. The little shopping/eatery area was reminiscent of swanky places like the Grove in LA and had, thankfully, a Starbucks. Well, actually, what shopping/eatery place anywhere doesn't have a Starbucks? I sipped my hot coffee on this overcast and chilly early afternoon just people watching. Here the crowd was decidedly more upscale compared to Downtown. Much more upscale. There was even a cute Cupcake ATM outside a trendy cupcake shop. And for people braver than me when it comes to heights, the "High Roller" Ferris wheel...tallest in the world! (Our version in Orlando is the 5th tallest)
I put a $20 bill in a fancy, new-fangled flat screen LCD animated slot machine with all kinds of graphics, music and flashing lights. The buttons offered so many confusing choices including multiple lines and multiple denominations. I thought this was a penny slot? I had no idea what I was doing. I figured I'd play max lines and max bet multipliers with each spin assuming I'd get the best payoff. Within three minutes I was down to zero credits. No bonuses. No free spins. No razzle dazzle. Just the evil glowing machine saying "Give me yo' money, bitch!"
I walked away vowing to waste no more of my precious money when I spied some old school video poker machines in the corner. I figured this time I'd just play the minimum bet to let my money last longer. But after I inserted my $5 bill into it, I then noticed it was a $1 machine. So now I had only 5 shots. And, of course, I got 5 quick losses. No pretty graphics. No fanfare. Just a silent money sucking machine designed to kill the human spirit and stomp on it like a dirty bug. "Fuck this shit" I thought, as I actually flipped the stoic, innocent-acting machine off and stormed away. If I'd glanced back I'm pretty sure I'd have caught it laughing at me.
The show was good. I'd expected more for the (discounted) $60 I paid but a few of the acts were actually stunning making you scratch your head in the classic "How the fuck did they do that?" way. As always, Teller is completely silent but that's just as well because Penn wouldn't shut up! And a great amount of his verbal diarrhea was pertaining to his libertarian beliefs rather than the magic tricks so it was a little awkward. And I agree with his politics and views on religion! I can only imagine how it played with audience members who weren't in his camp, so to speak.
After the show, I caught the shuttle back to The Strip, hopped on The Deuce back to downtown and got my nightcap beer and grub on Fremont Street from a gift shop that sold 2 for $5 Foster oil cans and a hole-in-the-wall concession that offered over-priced, yet hot and filling Chicago-style chili dogs.