"The boys are back...in town!"
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The year was 1993 and I was invited to join a group of guys to go to the Indy 500 race and pre-race activities (basically drinking and laughing our asses off for 3 straight days). This tradition continued for me over the next 7-years, but after we moved to Florida it became too expensive and too much of a logistical nightmare to continue past my last year in Indy of 2000. In 2001, I started a new travel-tradition by going to Vegas for the first time. Now fast-forward to 2006 where the two worlds of Indy and Vegas collided and became one fun-filled weekend!
Friday: �Ding�You are free to meander about the country.�
It all started at the airports where every flight known to man was delayed because of windy weather in the Northeast. This not only slowed my travels, but it did the same for Tim, Dave, Eric, Tony, Gino, Bo, Gary, and Sonny. All these guys except for Gary, Sonny, and Heasley (another guy we were meeting in Vegas, but he took a different flight) are the guys that I use to go to Indy with, so we will call them the �Indy Guys�. This was my first time meeting Sonny and Heasley and I�ve known Gary awhile now. Their non-stop flight from Pittsburgh to Vegas was also delayed. [Southwest does good to keep the fares down but does a poor job of getting people to their destinations on time because they book too many connections for their fleet. Once one is delayed, it affects the rest of the times�but this is just my opinion and you didn�t come here to read a travel review of Southwest Airlines.] After I arrived an hour late, I passed the time by playing video poker at a small group of machines at the airport. I know what you are thinking, �Boy, Dan has a serious gambling problem� and I thought the same thing, but I was sick of watching people walk through the airport except for that time when this high school volleyball team came walking past, but now you are thinking that I have another problem. I did see that crazy guy, Shane from �Survivor� get off a plane with an unlit cigarette in his mouth at one point. As a rule of thumb, it is not a good idea to play these machines because the house advantage, or airport advantage in this case, is typically much higher, but I figured �what else am I going to do while I wait?� This attitude paid off because I hit 4-aces and ended up $60 richer than when I left my house earlier that morning (this is after you deduct the cost of playing in the Las Vegas Airport for an hour, a meal at the Kansas City Airport, and sitting in a bar in the Orlando Airport killing time during a 2 hour delay). Once most of the Indy guys arrived two hours late, we jumped in two separate cabs (the pilot of my cab was one of the fastest drivers EVER) and got to the Golden Nugget. We dropped our bags off in the rooms and met at the diner in the hotel for a quick meal and catch-up session. We then headed out to the downtown casinos to see what damage we could do.
First stop was our home front, the Golden Nugget, and then we hit Binions Horseshoe for a bit. We were all starting to get our feet wet here, but the best part of playing at the Horseshoe was the cover band that Eric said, �was like being down at the Crafton Celebrates�. While sitting with Tim and Eric at a Let it Ride table, I got my first and only straight and this win probably helped me through the peaks and valleys of the rest of the night. Our next stop was the California Hotel and Casino. Most of the group sat at the blackjack table while the rest of us, including yours-truly, played other games of chance. One thing that you could always count on was that you would find Tim at the Let it Ride table and this was no exception. After a while of losing with Dave at craps and by myself at roulette, I joined the raucous crowd at the blackjack table. Another thing you could count on was that whatever table the majority of us was sitting at, it was the loudest and most entertaining table in the casino, especially at small casinos like this. Once I sat down with these guys, I found out what all the hubbub was about. I�ve said it before, but it should be said again; the best part of going to Vegas with a group is convening at a table with people you know and making each other laugh while gambling. After a while of laughing and wiping tears from my eyes, we made it back to the Nugget. After losing some of my bankroll during the night (and morning), I was getting a bit discouraged, but that soon changed at about 5 AM. This is when I walked up to a video poker machine and hit my first �no wildcard� straight flush to the queen. It was enough of a win for me to call it quits for the night, but two more cards up and I would have been set for the rest of the trip. I got to the room, called home (it was about 8:15 AM in Florida), and took a quick nap to get ready for the next day.
Saturday: �Dive in, the water�s cold��
I woke up at about 10:30 AM to find that Tim was still MIA. Knowing that this was Tim�s first time in Vegas, I had a suspicion as to his location, but called to confirm. Here is that call:
Tim: �Hello.�
Dan: �Tim, you still alive�
Tim: �Yeah, I gotta go!��click
Here in Vegas, they have many rules and one of them is: no phone calls at the tables. So I knew where he was from that point on. Next call was to Dave to find him. When I heard the music of his ring tone in the next room through the wall, I solved all the mysteries concerning the whereabouts of my friends. Once I and my two neighbors, Dave and Eric, got cleaned up for the day, the first spot we stopped was the Let it Ride table to find Tim with his entourage of 40- or 50-something ladies giggling at every remark Tim made. Tim was still wearing the same �Gino�s Auto Body� button-down work shirt with the name �Tony� from the arrival day. The ladies asked each of us if we were the real Tony and when we answered no, they seemed to be very disappointed as if this was the 5th or 6th time they did not get the correct answer to this question from one of Tim�s visitors. Because Tim was enjoying his new found love of the Vegas-life, he refused to join Eric, Dave, and I for breakfast. After a few more hours of meandering around the downtown area, it was time for the group to go dive bar hopping.
In a tradition started last year, the first year for this group to go to Vegas and a trip that I did not make, we spent the day at a local dive bar called Champagnes Cafe. This served several purposes: get away from gaming for an afternoon, get liquored-up at a cheap price, listen to songs of our choice on the jukebox, and spend some quality time with my fellow Indy men. This place was a classic. It sits in the seedy part of town just across the street from the Boulevard Mall about 2 or 3 miles east of the strip. The bartender said that back in the day by a different name this bar used to be frequented by members of the Rat Pack after their set at the Sands, but that was years ago and not much has changed since those days. The wallpaper was still patterned with felt, the limited clientele was your average Joe, and the vodka and tonics flowed like wine. The lighting was just low enough to find your way to the seat and bathroom, but that was about it for the traveling this particular afternoon. During our time at the dive bar, the stories got funnier and louder as the drinks increased and phases like, �Go to bed, Tim!� were becoming lore. I came in a little apprehensive and left more than a few hours later happy and drunk with my eyes fully dilated. The next trip was to cross the street to the mall to catch a cab back to the Nugget. In hindsight, it would have been best just to sit, drink, and talk with my old Indy buddies the rest of the night because the bad luck fairy opened up her hand and bitch-slapped me in my drunken stupor. I was thankful that we had an 8:30 dinner reservation to moderate this mugging.
The Golden Nugget houses a nice little bistro called Vic & Anthony's Steakhouse (previously Zax�see March 2003 Vegas Diary for review). I arrived a little later than the designated time, but was one of the first to get there. Tim (President) and Dave (Secretary and Treasurer) made these reservations to conduct their annual board meeting for Marshall & Associates, a company that their father had started and now since his passing in September they were left to manage the company and the first executive decision was to move the summit to Vegas. Not everyone showed at the dinner engagement, but besides the board members the rest of the JAFOs were Gino (Security Director and Scribe), Eric (Oddsmaking Supervisor), Tony (Racing Operations Supervisor), Gary (Wine Steward), Heasley (Education Coordinator), and I was named the NASA liaison. Once we ordered, the official meeting began. We were each designated our afore mentioned titles and had no voting rights in the meeting, but that didn�t stop us from making our voices heard, as usual. The first order of business was to nominate officials and change the by-laws to allow for the relocation and new dates for the gathering. The meeting overall ran smoothly with Tim and Dave pretty much ignoring every snide comment made from the peanut-gallery including one that said that Dave should oust Tim as President and we would help organize the rebellion. Dave must have known that we were all bluffing because we were too lazy to get up from our seats let alone start a coup, so he just let the scheme slide by. In the end, the Marshall & Associates goal within the next ten year was determined to be �Total Global Domination�! As for the dinner, the food was awesome to say the least. I got a fillet mignon and everyone else that requested the same entr�e agreed with my assessment that this was the best piece of meat that I ever tasted (and that�s saying a lot). Of the banquet, the lobster looked to be the most opulent. The tail was the size of my head and just as meaty. After dinner and a couple hours of gambling, I�m not sure if it was the big meal or the afternoon drinking binge that made most everyone in the group call it a relatively early night at about midnight, plus or minus an hour. It was nice to come back to the room to find Tim utilizing the bed for something other than a seat cushion for the first time since we arrived in Vegas the day before.
Sunday: �Comp-tastic!�
On the final full day in Vegas, I needed to off-set my losses and get to Caesars to cash in my winning Super Bowl bet on the Steelers at 10-1�it was my own personal ATM. I had been nagging the guys with this request since yesterday and they finally agreed to go. Before we jumped in the cab, we looked at the lines for the Daytona 500. There were some long shots that jumped out at me�the pole-sitter, Jeff Burton was getting 50-1 odds and Kurt Busch with his new Penske team was getting 25-1. Not knowing much about NASCAR, this was the best I could do. We arrived at Caesars with a bit of an appetite and I wanted to use my comps to buy lunch. By using one of my credit cards, I have built up about 10 comp-dollars of different denominations to be used at all the formerly known as Caesar Entertainment Properties, but they were recently converted to the Harrah�s comp system. My next goal was to find someone to ask if the comps were still functional, which was not easy. It seems that no one on the face of this earth has ever used these things. Everyone I handed them to had a puzzled look on their faces and shuffled through each of them as if the next one would provide the answer to �what the hell are these things?� During my travels to find a casino host, I ran into Eric and his mom, Sherry who was in town at the same time so we swapped some stories during a quick reunion. Once I asked around and found that my comps were still valid, I wanted to use them before they became invalid. The first place we stumbled upon to eat was MESA Grill because of its proximity to the Sports Book. When we looked at the menu and it said $15 for a hamburger and a few brunch items for $20 - $30, we knew this was not the place for us to �get a quick bit to eat�. Then we found a place more our speed, Cypress Street Marketplace and this was a glorified food court that opened at 11 AM, which was when the race started so it was a perfect fit.
Dave, Tony, and I were put in charge of getting the bugers while the others held our seats at the Sports Book. For the first time, the lady at the counter did not look like I was handing her yen instead of comp dollars. That was a good sign that the transaction would go through and we delivered the food just before the race began. Tim did finally catch up with us temporarily before he was off to find the closest Let it Ride table and do some sight seeing on his first trip to the Vegas Strip. I also made some side trips myself to the closest bank of video poker machines and on one trip hit a 5-of-a-kind on a deuces wild game for some spending money eventually to be lost. Gary and I also tried our hand at the horse races on the neighboring screens, but that just seemed to be too hard to wrap our heads around and we gave up after a couple races without a win. Speaking of not winning, of all of our combined dozen or more bets for the group, not one of us picked the winner. If I or anyone in our group would have known better, we would have bet on the winner, Jimmie Johnson at 75-1 and made a bundle, but at least we had a reason to sit and watch the race for 3 hours of the day.
After the race, we made the trip across the street to O�Shea�s. I will call this the scene of the crime because I don�t think I made one good bet the entire time in the casino (and we spent a long time in this casino). O�Shea�s is a small casino that sits next to the Flamingo (my usual home in Vegas) so I usually stop in real quick on my way to somewhere else along the strip. When I think back, I should have done the some thing this time. I would put down some money and it was gone in a matter of minutes. At craps, I was the only one that hit a number. Video poker stripped money out of my pocket. I even tried 3-card poker and crazy 4-poker for the first times to see if it would help change the ways and before the words �hey, this ain�t a bad game� was out of my mouth, my money was gone. The only thing that kept me from shooting the dealers was the sounds of the guys at the blackjack table. Every time I go to Vegas there is a group that seizes a casino with their entertainment and absurdity and I am always jealous, but this time I was part of that group and that made this losing streak easier to endure. Most of our group sat at the blackjack table that was responsible for the hilarity and I wasn�t the only one laughing at them. The dealers, the pit bosses, the patrons all watched and waited for the next line�each one-liner funnier than the next. The roar of �minimum bet black-jack, minimum bet black-jack� and �B-R-Y-A-N, B-R-Y-A-N, B-R-Y-A-N and Bryan was his name-o� illuminated the casino. Even Eric and Tim at the Let it Ride table next-door would join in to make this a comedy. Tony hitting on the waitress, Bo with the signature eyes-wide-open laugh without sound, Sonny dressed for church or for a date with a local hooker, Gary pointing out every minimum bet, and the red-faced, drunk stranger that sat in the middle of the action and joined in on each of the chants while smiling the entire time are all images to remind me of the amusement that ensued. I eventually realized that it was just money and sat down to join the circus for the last hour or so before it was time to move on to the next place.
When it was time to go, Tony, Tim, Dave, and I went to the Imperial Palace to catch a cab. The taxi-line was long and not moving, but with these guys it was ok because we made fun of the people to pass the time and it was easy pickin�s. By the time we did get in a cab, we had a hospitable visit with our driver who gave us his life story and the scenic tour. Instead of driving on the freeway, we traveled on Las Vegas Boulevard and got to see all the changes and additions to properties along the way.
Monday: �California here I comp!�
We got to the Golden Nugget and Tony said it was time for a nap, so Tim, Dave, and I went to the Golden Gate to hit the craps table and thinking this was the last time we would see Tony for the night. After an hour or so, we were joined by Gino, Eric, and Gary. This place has young pit bosses and even younger dealers. In fact, one of the bosses took the dealer�s place to try to teach him some of the more complicated bets like lay bets and such�ones that I�ve never understood. Once the ethnicity of this place wore on us, it was time to go back to another cultural casino, the California. This place is known for the deals it gives to Hawaiians to get them in the seats and it works. That all didn�t matter because we were here to win some money at blackjack and cause some havoc in the pits by begging for comps. We played pretty much the rest of the night with our dealer, the artist formerly known as Jeanie. I sang �I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair� numerous times without a single complaint until Tony woke from his nap and sat next to me. At this time, he brought the faux pas to my attention. When you are inebriated like I was, it is tough to tell the difference between a capital �A� and �N�. The next time we hit blackjack the victory song was changed to �Jen-ny I got your number, I need to make you mine, Jen-ny don�t change that number, 8-6-7-5-3-0-ni-e-ine��! Our next trick was to get Maude, the pit boss, to comp us breakfast. It was working fine until I let out the F-bomb in a drunken tirade. After apologizing to the table next to us, Jennie, the pit boss, and Tony who was the target of my curse, we were back on track and an hour later I was holding my first breakfast comp from Vegas.
We finished up a good 2 or 3 hour session of blackjack and cashed in our winnings. In the line at the casino diner, Tony, Gino, Dave, Gary, and I discussed the intricacies of counting cards in 2 decks vs. 1 deck. When it came to the food, well let�s just say: good thing it was free, but as Gino noticed, I wasn�t going to leave any of it behind (except for maybe the tire that they called steak). This was my first comp�ed meal and nothing is sweeter than the taste of victory. I know it wasn�t a meal comp at the Bellagio, but you have to start somewhere.
We returned back to the Nugget, but I wasn�t quite ready for sleep yet. I wandered around playing various games of chance, winning some, losing most, when another Vegas-first happened. I had just cashed in some chips and was walking by the casino bar. I looked over at an attractive, Asian lady in her mid-20s and she looked right at me. After a bit of a stare, she winked at me. My first instinct was exhilaration, but I wasn�t that drunk anymore. I quickly realized that she didn�t find my fat-ass the least bit attractive, she was trying to make a buck at 5 AM and I was an easy target. Now, I know that I am not exactly a handsome man, but I also know that I am not a leper either. At this hour in the morning, I may just be one of the best things going next to the few guys left in the casino. I walked past and noticeably laughed as I headed to the next game. Later, I did see a guy buying her drinks and thought to myself, �now I�ve seen it all�it is time for bed�.
I got up the next morning, bought my souvenirs, said my good-byes, and took a $40 taxi drive to the airport. The plane trip back home had many more positives like plenty of room to relax with an empty seat on one of the legs of the trip and no head-wind, but it also had a 2 hour delay at the airport in Albuquerque. By the time my plane hit the tarmac in Orlando, I was tapped out emotionally, physically, and financially�a sign of a fun weekend. These are the same feelings I used to get when going to Indy every year during the 90s and sleeping on air mattresses in the back of Tony�s racecar trailer, except I smelt a little better. Even though it was another losing weekend in Vegas, it was a great time! I got to reconnect with some old friends at a new place, and who knows, maybe it will become as great a tradition as Indy was in its heyday�I know one thing the beds are more comfortable.
