Wednesday, August 05, 2009

AC Day 2 - The Slope Continues

Up at 10:30 after hitting the pillow at 4am. I consider that an oversleep for gambling time.

We met Dawn and Mary at the Showboat tables, said hi, and we moved on to exploring the sauna outside along the boardwalk. One long walk, some pictures, a blister, and a meal at Johnny Rockets' later, we continued our search for $5 craps. Alas, such a thing seem to be a non-entity in AC. Boo to that. We settled on a $10 table in the Boat and Dawn swung by to learn the game.

She sucks as a student. After explaining 12 times that 7 is only good before the point, and bad after point, she was still surprised when she rolled a 7 and they took her money away. She became even more confused when I threw out my customary "I have no singles" crew tip - two-way hardways with a hi-lo for the crew. I'm a generous soul. Of course, Dawn was wondering when my half-fat double latte was coming after I seemingly ordered coffee from the stick girl. She left to play poker, being thoroughly confused, in a legendary fashion, by the best table game on the floor.

Except that Craps can suck it. N & I were down hard, but were at least entertained by the drunk woman (not Dawn) who was berating the stick girl. She'd been cut off (the drunk, not the stick) and left to await sobriety at a video poker machine she wasn't playing. She figured that stumbling over to the craps table and attacking the petite asian girl would be the best way to get service. A man in a suit came and tried to talk her into waiting some more for her "drink", but just then the waitress came by and let the supervisor know she had been cut off. He gave the "I KNOW that, and I'm sending security, not you" look, but the waitress was too dumb to pick up on it and told him as loudly as possible that the woman was cut off, in front of the woman... leading to an all-out brawl that tore up the casino. Or more accurately, some shouting, and the drunk returning to her seat at the video poker machine she wasn't playing.

But would it end there? NO! Some drunk guy decided to then yell at the stick girl and the pit boss (who hadn't been involved) that if "she wants a fucking drink, you should give her a fucking drink!" These two should sober up and write a book on how to annoy paying patrons and get your ass kicked out of the casino.

The bad mojo ruined the table, and THAT was when Dawn left. Oh, and also, they were raising the limit to $15, which sucks balls and gets people to go away.

N and I lost more money over at the Taj, but not before winning a bunch first that we promptly gave back. He busted out and I was down to scraps when my roll came up and I promptly won back my losses for that table. This got N back in to lose a few hundred more before we called it a night for gambling.

We swung back to the Boat, found Dawn and Mary still at the table (some 10-11 hours at this point), and decided to wait until they wrapped up. A little video poker rejuvinated the spirits, even though I lost, because there was some value in the time spent. Then the search for food was on.

Dawn hates the House of Blues, so naturally I suggested we go there. If lasers could be shot out of eyes, my skull would have two holes in it. Then again, if lasers could be shot out of eyes, my skull would have been obliterated years ago by the people I've gotten that look from.

We opted for the themed restaurant next door instead - The Ha ck. Some know it as The Hard Rock, but there were letters missing.

20 minute wait, screw that! Instead we spent 3.5 hours walking the boardwalk seeking food. Megan's looked promising until the waiter told us we'd never get full eating their paltry bar food now that dinner was over. Off to the Pier for The Trinity Irish Pub. A pretty solid prime rib was had by me, but the lack of Kilkenny was shocking.

See, in Toronto, you can't find a pub that has Guinness but NOT Kilkenny. In the States? Aparently the creamy and delicious sibling of Guinness can't be found. At least the waitress knew what I was talking about, having been to Ireland. No wonder America is failing. Mary was appreciative of my plight, being an anglophile and all, and it was good to have one other person at the table sympathize with me.

Anyway, food was good, as was, once again, the conversation and laughs. I think Dawn has a problem though - she was tweeting during dinner, but her blackberry was dead, so she simply tweeted in the air, as if she was holding her precious device. I opted to tweet just because she couldn't. I'm awesome like that.

We did the 12 hour walk back to the Boat, with Dawn getting some Ben & Jerry's by shoving three old ladies and a blind parapalegic out of her way because they were taking too long to finish their orders for Cherry Garcia. She smashed the glass with one old lady's walker and scooped half a tub of caramel-caramel-caramel ice cream with extra caramel sauce into her custom ice cream cup before flipping off the cashier and then flipping them a quarter so they could call their mother or something. The details are fuzzy due to the running away and the dead fish smell at that portion of the boardwalk.

We made it back to the Boat, told security some terrorists dressed as cops were chasing us and made it to the parking garage in time to escape. The four of us decided to split up, with N and I heading to our car, and Mary and Dawn escaping to New York (a place movies had led me to believe you escape FROM). We said our goodbyes and left the flashing lights in the rearview mirror.

N and I decided to head to the Borg, and this time we did so with minimal getting lost. The place was rocking. So now I know where all the hot waitresses are. The Borg figured it out right - AC is an escape, just lower-rent than Vegas, and people don't want to see 45 year-old overweight women brining them their drinks. They want hotties. No wonder it's got all the press and Trump can't make a buck on the boardwalk. We wandered to the poker room, and N chickened out when he saw the sharks swimming in the water. I tried to explain that this might be the only time building a table image might MEAN something in AC, but after his monumental craps losses, he just couldn't bring himself to wager any more of significance that night. So we hit the video poker again. I've never played video poker away from a barstool before this trip, and let me tell you - it's a lot less fun. Maybe that has to do with the continued losing though.

2am rolled around and we called it a night, opting to get up early to check out and start gambling sooner.

But the dude who came over to talk to us in the back lot of the Slodge delayed these plans somewhat.

"Atlaaantic City baby!" is the cry we heard as we climbed out of the 'stang. "Atlantic City".

You know what's hard to see? A black guy in dark clothes under a tree at 2am. But he made sure we could hear him.

"You guys having a good time?"

"We've had better, knew it was time to leave when we ran out of money."

He walks over.

"Man, I came her to relax a bit, have some fun. Left the female at home this time. But ain't won a thing."

This is now confirming my belief he's a broke drunk degenerate looking for a handout, the "we're broke from the casinos" story will stay in force. Not hard, since it's mostly true.

"Yah, we hear ya. Never been this stuck before. Just not a good weekend for playing the tables."

"Yah man, I came down here before with my female, you know? And the first, FIRST slot machine I play, I win $7000. SEVEN THOUSAND DOLLARS. Man, I got that shit out of there fast. They all wanted me to stay, and put me up in a suite, and all this crazy shit."

"Of course man, they want you to give them their money back"

"Damn, yah! But I ain't falling for it. They say I can go think about it and let them know, so I get out of there to 'think about it' ya know? But this time, this time I lost what I brought. But you know the trick? You gotta only bring what you can lose. I leave all my credit cards, atm, all that at home when I come here. Where you guys from?"


"Canada, huh? I'm from DC myself. I left the female at home this time, ya know? But I can't win shit. I just want to come here, have some fun, and I can't even get my dick sucked man! I mean, when you lose, you can't get your dick sucked! I got 11 inches right here [grabs] and ain't no girls wanna suck me! When I won, I could've got my dick sucked, but not now!"

We look away from the grabbing and shift nervously... this just got weird. "Uh, yah... that's tough."

"Man, 11 inches! I mean, there's girls out there who LOVE to suck dick. The get all on it, and deepthroat it man, shiiit. You know you love that. Hot girl, wants to suck your dick, and she can all deepthroat it and shit"

He hasn't really stopped grabbing... we look for an exit, but this continues... 11 inches, deepthroat, can't get my dick sucked, etc.. He finally stops to take a breath.

"What you gonna do man? Well, good luck finding someone to do that for you."

"Yah man, hey how long you here?"

"We should have left yesterday after today's losses." We're walking away... about 5-10 ft at this point.

"Hey, hey! What's your room number? You know you'd say yes if some hot lady wanted to suck your dick. She's hot and can deepthroat and shit. You know, free of charge, and all clean and shit."

"Goodnight!" We're walking up the stairs. He gets louder, and it's after 2am.

"Hey, what's your room number? If I find some ladies, I'll send 'em over your way... you now you'd say yes if they wanted to suck your dick!"

N walks to the room door (which is facing the lot) and goes in, I follow and lock the door behind us. Then I suggest that next time he may want to go around the corner so the guy can't see where our room is, because if there's knocking in an hour, I ain't answering.

N thinks the guy was a pimp, I think he was dressed like a nearly homeless drunk, and might just be crazy. But the pimp theory does hold some water. Regardless, it was all a bit odd, and if anyone came knocking, I slept through it... although we were debating if a chair against the door might not be a bad idea.

Because an important rule is: If a pimp offers you something for free, you're gonna get rolled at best.


KenP said...

OK, time to fess up! You are the love child of Julia Child and T.J. Cloutier aren't you?

Dawn Summers said...

WHOA. Is that true? Damn, I thought I was breaking news uncovering your Julius Goat alias! Damn!

P.S. I LOVED this post so very much! Way better than the lies filled post below. Except for the me being a bad craps student. I am good student, you are bad teacher. No meaning in the play within a play scene in Hamlet? Hmph! I'm so telling.

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