insight timing

I took more than the recommended dose of recreational Valium so let’s go for a longer ride than usual…

The last few months I’ve found myself sitting in the casino, waiting for something exciting to happen, and thinking mostly about my mortality.  If I’m on a game, if I’m on my way to a game, if I’m going over a game plan, I’m solid. But if I have to pass time in a casino without a spot to obsess about, I sit there preoccupied with how I’ll be dead soon and gambling is dumb. Then my mind goes straight to the reality that a lot of the world is in crisis and unimaginable horrors are happening and then I’m over the “gambling is dumb” part but am still besieged with my mortality.  

My mind used to, in simpler terms, wander excessively when I was younger so to distract myself I’d routinely travel and work 4000 hours a year.

Now with my current life status I’m back to my old ways, except I’m only allotted half the time to work an unhealthy amount.  My genius child whose presence I am honored to soak in takes up the other half.  

I obsess about how I’m missing 50% of his childhood, of his first taste of a food or when he learns a new word and I’m not there.  It sucks.  Being separated sucks.  Being severed from a unit you did not want to have to sever from sucks.  I’m not even in the mood to use a thesaurus, that’s how bad it sucks. And knowing that life is insanely short and valuable and this is the situation I’m in is the saddest thing I’ve ever experienced.  It should not be so hard to maintain a relationship, unless someone checks out I suppose. And then the blame game starts, and it never ends, and then we die.

The bright side to all of it is that I’m much less angry.  On the flip side, I’m depressed.  So tonight is one of those 50%’s that I’m without child, without unit, but what’s different is I quit the grind early. Eh, I inputted some data if I’m going to be honest, but now that I’m done I’m officially off for the rest of the night. Artificially relaxed and with a never-ending cup of tea beside me (it’s Lipton).

So what should we talk about!? How so many successful men who we meet in the casino have no common sense? 

Wait, I just re-read the next to next to last paragraph and it sounds brutal.  Nobody over here thinking of taking a leap off the top floor of the Silverton garage, we are fine. (A couple did that and I wondered why they didn’t choose a taller garage).

Back to the story…

I used to wonder about this all the time (successful men not having common sense) but now I’m used to it, I almost expect it. They own businesses or do work in the real world that I could never find the mental capability to do yet they’re clueless about simple things.  I don’t mean gambling-wise, even though they’re clueless about that too.  It’s not that they don’t know basic strategy or try to martingale their way to riches, or even the superstitions they are not immune to. I mean oftentimes the high-level business exec with the Patek Phillippe can’t understand what amount to bet on a carnival game even though he’s been at the table for 4 hours or him and his entourage not being able to find the Uber pick up. Guys, it isn’t hard. I know I have better examples, but I’m woozy, not my best work.

Oh wait, I wanted to throw this nugget in somewhere, an example of money not signaling smarts.  I guess here is as good as any. I played poker with A-Rod for a few hours and the guy could not grasp the simplest things. He didn’t get the betting in 20/40 limit, completely did not get it and it went on for hours. It wasn’t pot limit, it was a fixed limit game, you deal with 20 and 40 dollar bets. I mean I don’t know, maybe he was on something?  Didn’t seem like it. I had to switch games because the rest of the table kept trying to chat him up and the game was too slow (must get hands in!!!) but he was polite and to be fair I’m sure I’ve given off a dumb as a bag of bricks vibe in some life scenario that I wasn’t even aware of but bro, when the person to your right has acted, its your turn, it never changes!

By the way did you guys see the Jose Canseco tweets this week about A-Rod cheating with his ex-wife? They were amusing enough for me to give him a follow and also what brought this super fascinating memory to life.

Alright let’s wrap this up.

I heard the Marvelous Mrs. Maisel was pretty good, I think I’m going to binge that. I’m in a funk, and it’s probably going to get much worse before it gets better. I’m not even on a losing streak, work has been above average.  This is not a cry for help; nobody hit me up with essential oil recommendations or links to meditation apps.  If anything, send me suggestions for good stand up. I’ve got a new thing for Jaboukie, but he doesn’t have a lot of content online.  For your viewing pleasure I’ve included him below.


gidget

I had very specific targets tonight and they did not pan out.  I also had a migraine that a cocktail of caffeine and drugs could not kill, so I withdrew the troops and took cover.  Once safely sheltered I began searching for adoptable dogs online.  I’m not a dog or cat or any other kind of pet person.  I don’t know why I look at dog profiles as much as I do.  I have a friend that spends hours watching videos of sand on YouTube.  Same thing?

No. Her thing is just weird.

I kid you not, I just typed “sand” into YouTube search and found a video with over 5 million views.  I’ll post it below because obviously.

Maybe there are millions of people who also sweat adoptable dogs online that have no intention of adopti…

Wait!  I’m watching and listening to this sand video and I don’t know what the hell is going on.  I’m so confused.  I can’t think.  I’ll pause it but if you want the same experience start the video below then try to recite the alphabet, it’s impossible.

Okay, back to the dogs.  I found a profile of two senior dogs whose owner has passed away.  The ad says they are bonded for life.  One of them is totally blind and only has one eye.  I want them.  I want these dogs. 

doggies.jpg

Maybe I took too much Tylenol but I’m really feeling this pair.  I shall reassess my feelings in the morning and proceed from there.  How I wish I had taken this advice ten dozen other times in my younger years.  But then I wouldn’t be me now would I?

And I’m fantastic.  It’s 2019 and I’m only going to become more fantastic!  Because I don’t have to be a great basketball player.  I don’t have to dribble the ball fast or throw the ball into the basket.  Because all I have to do is be the best rx I can be.

Because I’m good enough.  I’m smart enough.  And doggone it people like me.

You guys I just channeled Eminem with these sick throwbacks and wordplay.  Source here if I lost you and weird “very satisfying” sand fetish or whatever it is video below.

dire straights

There’s a pastry I like getting in a certain coffee shop in a certain casino and I use whatever player card of mine that has comps to get it. While signing the comp ticket today the cashier, obviously in her first year studying criminal justice at the local community college said, “I’m sure it’s not even you.” Seriously? How long has she been waiting for the opportunity to call me out?  Was this her big moment? Now what did she expect to happen? I run away?

Some floormen have this same mentality when you’re winning in their section and they feel like you’re taking “their” money when you clean out the rack. She’s upset I’m taking “her” pastry.

I know for a fact that some floor people get bonuses when their tables show a profit. But snarky cashiers for sure don’t get anything for calling out customers who are gaming the system to get comped pastries that the casino will cover regardless of what name they use.

I always tip this place too.  One of the other cashiers, a super nice, plump and jolly young man once told me he signed on to work an extra hour so he could pocket another $8.25.

So what was my reaction when she so cleverly unmasked my high level ruse?

“Um yeah actually it is me,” I said with a confused grimace.  It’s not my first rodeo, little miss mall cop.

And then I still tipped a dollar because the plump, jolly guy was also working and I’m a fish.

There is no version of this song that I dislike.  Enjoy.

like snow, like gold

My toddler son always wants to play with older kids at the playground. They will be involved in a game of tag or hide n seek and my baby will chase them around, thinking that he’s part of the game and they are all friends. Most of the time the older kids are annoyed with him, especially when he tags someone, and they don’t hide their feelings. Meanwhile my son is completely oblivious to it. He has no idea they want nothing to do with him. I get really upset and I try to direct his attention to something else so he won’t figure it out and get a taste of how a lot of people in this world really are. My son is as pure and innocent as Elliott Smith was when he performed at the Oscars and I want to keep him that way forever.

yo dos

Sup?

When I was 18 years old I was playing guitar with bands in Vegas bars. When I hit 21, I graduated to casino lounges.  High-end joints like Excal, Stardust and the old Oasis in Mesquite. 

A life to envy.

We also had a weekend gig at Gordon Biersch.  I’d get off work dealing at the Monte Carlo at 7:30pm (yes when I was 21 I was a dealer, obviously I just said that) and I’d rush over to GB for an 8 pm start: 3 sets, done at 12. I had a Mesa Boogie tube amp that was super heavy and no joke, every night after we played I would be lugging this thing to my car while drunk guys hit me up and not once did any of them offer to help.

Which leads me to my next story.

While working at MC I was sexually harassed constantly.  The pencil (scheduler) would tell me I looked good in different demeaning ways every day. I mean that doesn’t sound awful, right?  I’m a wimp?  But every day, every single day dealing with his comments was really frustrating. 

The real harassment came from the top though.  The Ensign family were heavily involved in MGM at one point (family of disgraced cheating husband Senator John Ensign).  John’s younger bro David Ensign ran The Hacienda Casino in Boulder City where I broke in as a dealer a few months before I got the job at MC.  David, who told me he watched me deal from a camera in his office, would come into the pit at MC, where he didn’t even work, get really close to me and tell me I was hot, etc.  Like wtf man, c’mon really?  So one day I go to HR with a complaint about David.  The woman in charge told me, “That’s not sexual harassment.” 

Cool.  #MeToo

My stint at MC didn’t last long after that.

Side note: I was put on the Big 6 a couple days a week, which doesn’t constitute as sexual harassment but it sucked nonetheless.  The pencil claimed the drop was bigger when I was on it so there I stood, spinning that huge wheel, with dread in my soul, wishing I hadn’t dropped out of college, was born rich, or could suck it up, take off my big girl pants and be a dancer.  I would have happily dug ditches those days instead 100%, no question.

You guys, where am I going with all this?

Dunno.

Man, I hate long posts.

I guess I can wrap this baby up by saying in my illustrious AP career I haven’t been harassed, sexually or otherwise, by other APs simply for being female (okay maybe one time by APs, poker players and floor people def a different story).  Yes, some of my opportunities have been different from my male counterparts, like not being able to fire big money (though I’ve had my moments) but it’s much easier for me to feign innocence.  Who actually thinks the young girl at 3rd betting ten bucks, can’t add up her hand and doesn’t know basic strategy is running the table?  Not a lot of people.

K, post too long.  Here’s a song. Es bueno.