Las Vegas Day Three: May 27, 2011

We were right back at it the next morning, in spite of a pretty grueling previous day.  My feet were killing me, as I had blisters on my souls and between my toes from walking in flip-flops all day.  Everything we did was fun, but we had packed a lot into a short time.  We were awake pretty early in the morning, but didn’t have quite the same bounce in our steps.  After an expensive Day 2, we became a little more cost conscious and grabbed breakfast at the McDonald’s in the Monte Carlo food court.  Rob and I wanted to place a couple bets, so we went to the Sports Book, while Mike searched for a cheap table.  After our fruitless search on Wednesday night, we learned the best time to play low stakes blackjack was in the mornings, after the hardcore drinkers and gamblers had zombie-shuffled to their rooms.

I was only interested in placing a bet on the European soccer championship between Barcelona and Manchester United on Saturday.  I put $50 on Man U (as in “Man, U made a lousy bet!”) with the potential to win $80.  Rob did the same and put another $50 on the Bruins winning Game 7 against the Lightning that evening.  Once we had our tickets, we went to find Mike.

He was playing at a table essentially by himself.  The min bet was $5, so I cashed in $50.  Rob had placed two $50 bets, so he didn’t feel like risking any more money.  Like the previous night, the action started well.  The dealer was a bit of a cold fish, but Rob started goofing with Mike and getting her involved and she started to warm up.  Mike was on the start of a good heater, but he would never bet higher than the minimum.  Even the dealer suggested he should press his bet, but he refused, politely.  A couple other players joined the table and all of us were winning more than losing.  

The trend didn’t last long and I could see my stack of chips diminishing.  We had played for about a half hour and we still wanted to sit by the pool before the day got away from us.  We cashed out and from my original $50 stake, I came away with $50.50.  That would be my best session of blackjack on the trip.  I suppose I should be grateful that I came out “ahead,” but I could have sat at an unattended table and not played for thirty minutes and had the same result.  There is no satisfaction in a “push.”  Mike did much better and commented, “There’s nothing like winning big to put a spring in your step.”  He then turned to me, patted me on the back, and said, “Something I hope you get to experience some time!”  Thanks, dick.

We chose a section of the pool area on the opposite end from where we sat the previous day, next to the beach volleyball court and, more importantly, the beverage kiosk.  Each of us ordered a yardstick and once those were done, Rob sprung for another bucket of beers. The weather was a lot hotter, a lot sooner than Thursday and it didn’t take long for us to feel baked.  I waded into the wave pool a couple times and just floated.  After cleaning up, we went back to the food court for lunch and then braved the heat on the Strip.

We spent a lot of time wandering and getting lost within the new casinos of Aria, Cosmopolitan, and others.  We eventually made it to Planet Hollywood and I was insistent in playing at the automated blackjack table.  There was a dealer and the hands were dealt in the regular way, but all betting, hand totals, and plays were done on a touch screen at each position.  The computer also kept track of the players’ stakes, so you could see at a glance how much you were up or down.  The table minimum was $15 and I put in $100.  I burned through my cash pretty quickly and surrendered when I had $10 left.

We had plenty of time before the Bruins v. Lightning game would start, so we wandered to the Paris to buy tickets for the hypnotist Anthony Cools for Saturday night.  Once outside again, the heat was nearly unbearable, approaching 100 degrees.  Luckily, one of the first places we saw was Cabo Wabo.  There were misters and umbrellas on the patio, but I couldn’t imagine feeling any comfort while drinking outside, so I insisted we stayed indoors.  There were plenty of stools at the bar and the three of us sat close to the taps.

I deferred to Rob in making a selection of sipping tequila and got a tall shot of something mellow.  I’ve had experience with rougher stuff from my college years, so even a mild tasting tequila sent chills down my spine.  My remaining drinks were pints of Dos Equis Amber.  I think all of us had a pretty good buzz going in short order.  We passed the time by talking about wine, women, and song until the first puck was scheduled to drop.  I paid the tab and we walked over to the Sports Book to watch the game. 

I remember drinking Sam Adams while watching the game, but don’t remember buying them, so either Mike or Rob or both bought rounds.  We didn’t drink a lot at the Sports Book because we had plenty at Cabo Wabo and Mike couldn’t finish his last beer.  In fact, he didn’t start it because he had passed out in his chair.  We couldn’t tell at first because he was wearing his sunglasses.  We tried to rouse him unsuccessfully and thought he was punking us as he had a smirk on his face.  He eventually stirred and said he needed a break.  Rob and I split his beer and watched the rest of the game.  When there was less than 10 minutes left in the final period, we were really cheering the Bruins because a sudden death overtime win wouldn’t have done any good.  Rob’s bet was for the Bruins to win by two goals.  The Bruins ultimately won, but not by two, so Rob didn’t get paid.

During the game, we were able to rest and to flush some of the alcohol out of our systems and as a result, we were hungry.  In between Planet Hollywood and Monte Carlo was the Harley Davidson Cafe.  I ordered a full plate of ribs and I was halfway done when I realized my eyes were bigger than my stomach.  I stopped eating the fixin’s and concentrated on the ribs, but still left a handful untouched.  This time we didn’t take anything back to the room, other than a commemorative glass for Mike’s drink that he didn’t want.  I kept it.

We returned to the Monte Carlo and went directly to the Jabbawockeez show.  The doors were already open and people were filing into the theatre.  I needed to use the facilities and Rob got in line to get a drink.  I was done before he was and waited for him by the door.  Mike had disappeared.  We assumed he went to our seats and I followed Rob to find them.  He had bird-dogged Mike first, and saw a couple people asking him to move so they could get by.  Mike didn’t respond, so they climbed over his legs.  When we got to the seats, they made jokes about Mike’s condition.  I made a show of checking his pulse to confirm he wasn’t dead.  Rob then squeezed his knee and then his leg and stopped short of his junk to wake him. 

The show itself was fairly entertaining.  There were humorous bits and the dancing was amazing.  They played just snippets of some popular tunes that I wished played a little longer.  At the end, they poked some fun at some of the Vegas acts, which I think is a common occurrence.  The dancers are hidden from head to toe with hats, masks, and gloves, so you can’t tell who they are.  They probably wore a couple outfits at once.  For the finale, there was a dancer dressed as Carrot Top, and then another dressed as Elvis, and a third as a member of the Blue Man Group.  After an hour, we spilled out into the casino.

We walked over to New York, New York to see if we could get into Coyote Ugly.  It was pretty late in the evening and I was sure there would be a cover to get into the place.  Sure enough, there was, as well as a long line.  My head was starting to hurt from all the heat, alcohol, and noise we endured and I couldn’t tolerate any more.  We decided to come back the next evening right when the place opened at six.  So instead of partying at Coyote Ugly, we walked over to the Tropicana again and tried our hand at, you guessed it, blackjack.  My wallet was significantly lighter, so I only put in $40, which at worst would allow me to play four hands.  I think I may have played six.  For the second time in as many nights, I sulked from the Tropicana back to the Monte Carlo.  Man, I love Vegas!

Day Three Expenses

Breakfast at McDonald’s - $6.00 (estimated, no receipt)

Bet on Manchester United to win Wembley - $50.00

Lunch at Subway - $10.54

Planet Hollywood blackjack - $90.00

Paris Anthony Cools tickets - $77.75

Drinks at Cabo Wabo - $98.00

Blackjack at Tropicana - $40.00

*

Day Three Total:  $372.29

Running Total:  $1,517.16