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Thursday, February 18, 2010

While in Vegas....try not to be any of these!

What would be great is if I were snapping quick pictures of these people when these 'situations' arise. In fact, I will try to be better about doing JUST that...because if i can't run good in poker, at the least, I should be able to be a good blogger for your reading entertainment, right?

Every day I am walking (which, thankfully, is good for my health) the half mile or so from Venetian to Bally's. I am witnessing some very interesting things. Some of which cause me to feel very good about my own life.

There are pedestrian bridges that go over the roads. One such road is Flamingo. Flamingo...this road that has been under construction now for, I shit you not, over three years now. Just what in the hell they are doing under that road, I would love to know. I am starting to think they are building a secret bunker the size of a city under there. It's just weird.

On these bridges, there are homeless people. I am guessing they congregate there because the casinos run them off from their doorsteps. There is 'Crazy Eyes Malone', there is 'Mopey Mary', of course 'Harry the Harmonica' and then 'Why Lie I Need a Beer Guy' the same people every day. With the same pitch. Mopey Mary might be the most pathetic and least inspiring of the professional moochers. Sitting there, up against the concrete wall, sitting indian style, in her dirty clothes, with her gritty hair...just looking down at the ground, and her cup. Never looks up. Never talks. Just sits there...moping. Every fucking day. Wow. You have to admire her consistency.

Walking home from Venetian last night...this is what I witnessed. I am NOT making this up. First up...husband and wife walking...well, HE was walking. He was about 5'11 165. She was about 5'10 220. She was shit faced. He was...well, we'll call him sober'ish. She could NOT walk. It was like he was wrestling an alligator. And she was hollering at him. What she was saying? No clue. Poor guy.

Next up. Pissed off Patty. Three girls walking towards me...all clearly trashed, but no where near as shitty as Patty. I hear this exchange..."we arent going there...its too late." "Fuck you Brenda...its MY BIRTHDAY!!!" "Fuck me? No! FUCKKKK YOUOOO you bitch!!!!" Good friends. Good times.

I duck into Denny's to have a double order of 'nowhere near as good or close as Waffle House's' hashbrowns and some milk. Dropping into a table behind me, two older ladies who looked like the sisters on the Simpsons. Sporting accents that I took for Upstate New York. They were excited about their tickets to go see the 'Price Is Right' show here at Bally's the next day. Then they start arguing over what the asterisk means on the menu next to each item. They go back and forth on this for at least 5 minutes before I can't take it any more and finally let them in on the little secret. "Its a Denny's recommended healthy choice."

I pay, I tip. I leave. 50 more feet down the sidewalk, two fat girls are coming in my looking VERY angry. Oh she is....or about to be. "I swear to God! if we get to McDonalds and its fucking closed...I am going to be fucking PISSED!!!!" Hmmm...yeah, I happen to know that this McDonalds that she was speaking indeed closed at 2:20am. Someone was probably about to be dead. I started walking faster.

Finally arrive at Bally's. Make it to the elevator without incident. Uh oh...someone's arm is poking through the door. I press the 'OPEN' button. And in stumbles "The Woman". Oh boy. She starts talking. I can't understand her. She IS speaking english. And she has a noticeable Wisconsin accent. I ask her if she is from Wisconsin. Yes she is. Oops, I have now engaged her in conversation. Big mistake. Oh shit. She is also staying on the 22nd floor. Oh no. She is about 48. Not horrible looking. But clearly worn down by years of alcohol abuse. And she is loaded. I think she is bitching about her husband. Can't be certain. Im pretty much just nodding and mmhmmm'ing her...but its not slowing her down. Jeezuz. All I can smell is vodka. And bad perfume. Come on elevator...COME ON! We finally arrive. We get out. She is still talking. Please dont follow me, please dont follow me.........

Whew...she breaks right. Good night! I am approaching my room, I hear screaming. More screaming. Then...uh oh...crying. Then screaming. A demand for a passport and the desire to go to hell issued. Then...into the hallway...a short, fat woman of about 30...bawling. And now she wants to tell me why this person in the other room is an asshole. Oh no! So what do I do? I pretend like I am French! I started speaking in the only French I know. Pretty sure I said something like "I have only a pencil for the late night cinema that I would like for going to have breakfast with my sister, thank you." She bought it...and I was homefree. Ahhhhhh....the privacy/sanctity of my room. And Tim was nowhere in sight...for like the 4th night in a row. Not sure where he is or where he goes...but he is very good about staying gone. I am now convinced he is the best poker roomie EVER.  I attempted to read some more of my very exciting novel, 'HONG KONG' but was asleep before I even checked my email.

Couple other things before I end this one and  start the one that ends in me finally cashing a mothereffing noon tourney out here...which happened yesterday (Wednesday).  There needs to be a manual written for
people who visit Las Vegas. For 'How to Walk in a Casino." Or rather, how NOT to walk. There is nothing worse than always being in a hurry to get somewhere and never being able to get by people. There is the couple on the escalator who HAS to be side by side. HELLO! Excuse me! OUTA MY WAY! Me and Squirrel I know for a fact NEVER do that! She stands on one stair, and I stand on the one below her. Hence, allowing people in a hurry to pass by us.

Then there are the FAN OUT walkers. Usually its 3 or more of them. They travel in packs/herds. They are usually gawking at their surroundings, and walking very slow. Occasionally one of them has a camera, and wants to slow down to snap a photo of an inanimate object. At any rate, to get caught behind them is a pain in the ass. HELLO!!! Single file bitches! MOVE! Get the HELL out of the way! Please quit staring at the damn ceiling and watch where you are going! They have these intersections at Venetian...and its inevitable that major collisions occur at these crossroads for morons. I about flattened this lady today. But at the last second I hollered at her...'HEADS UP' and she just avoided getting hip checked into a blackjack table.

Okay thats it for this entry. Ahhhh...feel better about getting that off my chest. Now let me write the good one...before the battery on my Dell mini dies, and I have to go downstairs and play the scary 7pm DonkFest. Looks like I now have only 40 minutes til then.


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