#17: Go Big or Go Broke, then Go Home

Dale Chihuly's Glass Flowers, Bellagio Lobby, Las Vegas

I’m about to say something that won’t shock you at all: I play by the rules. Always.

I follow the speed limit. I arrive on time. We don’t fudge on our taxes, and we rock the vote each November. I don’t smoke, I hardly drink, I don’t share my friends’ secrets. If I could remember to change my car’s oil every 3,000 miles, I would.   

But when something like Las Vegas comes along, all bets are off. Go big or go broke or go home. Shrug off your Sandra Dee, put on your Mae West, and viva Las Vegas like you mean it.

For my 17^th 36×37 assignment, that’s exactly what Kim, Mason, GB and I did. For three days, we lived as large as we could, and it was absolutely brilliant.

Find the High Rollers.

Pronounced "Porsh-a"...for the non-Italians in the room

We knew exactly where The Bellagio‘s high roller room was, but when we pushed our way through its gilded doors, the floor was empty. The only thing remaining was an open bottle of very expensive Cabernet Sauvignon, and we weren’t about to load up on someone’s leftovers.

Instead, we settled for playing pai gow with a little red-headed man and his fistful of $10,000 chips. We knew he meant business when he slid one across the table and opened with two $200 hands. Five minutes later, he walked away again, with a cool net gain of $3,000.

Win big (or go broke trying).

• Roulette. Kim took a class on game theory when we were in college and learned that roulette stacks the odds against you more than any other game in the casino. I think that’s funny now, because I watched her leave the table with a larger stack of chips than when she started. I, on the other hand, lost every chip I had.  
• Slots. I pulled the lever just once and said “What a stupid little game.” I kept thinking that and thinking that until some half-crazed woman shrieked “Look at what I won!!!” then hugged an uncomfortable stranger. Luck, be a lady tonight, I guess. 
• Blackjack. If you missed it, read about my love/hate relationship with blackjack.
• Craps. Just when I decided the casinos weren’t for me, I tried my hand at this lovely game. As it turns out, I love the dice, and the dice love me, and together we know how to make money.  

Pamper thyself.

My stubby little fingers look so pretty, even if Javier was nowhere to be found.

See the sights.

Like Caesar’s and Paris and The Venetian. Fine hotels, each one.

The gondolas outside The Venetian

GB and me in front of the "real" Ceasar's Palace

Kim and Mason at The Mirage

Hit the rock, fool playa.

 Still, none of them could match The Bellagio.

The Bellagio lobby

The Bellagio lobby, part 2

Chocolate fountain

Eat like a queen.

We tried the buffet, because that’s just part of the Vegas experience. It was big on selection and low on flavor, so we took the rest of our meals elsewhere.

On Sunday night, we tried Mario Batali’s B&B Ristorante in The Venetian, where GB ordered a pasta blackened with squid ink, Mason ordered the most incredible pork chop in the world, and Kim and I had pappardelle with a bolognese that nearly rivaled my mother’s exquisite version.

On Monday, we broke bread at Voodoo Lounge from the 50^th floor of The Rio. We watched the sunset from the rooftop, and spent the rest of the evening laughing over good food and great company.

Enjoy the show.

We caught Penn & Teller at the Rio Hotel. I slept through most of it because wine makes me snoozy. However I can say that Penn talks a lot and Teller doesn’t talk at all, and there was a clever bit about coins turning into fish and fish turning into coins. That is all.

See someone famous.

We spotted Pete Rose at some sports memorabilia shop in Caesar’s Palace. I thought that was so ironic—Pete Rose! In Vegas!—until a colleague said she saw him at the same store when she was in Sin City. So I guess it’s all just a big joke, with Pete laughing the hardest.

But that’s not all. Kim and Mason stayed in Vegas an extra day. On Wednesday morning, I woke up to this text:

“We just saw Webster by the elevators. Mason said holy sh*t, it’s Gary Coleman!”

I’ve been laughing about that one for days.

Finally, enjoy thyself without a hint of guilt.

But, ah. That part was easy.

~*~ 

Kim and me, sunset at Voodoo Lounge

In November, it will be 15 years since Kim introduced me to GB. The life I live today comes largely from that one well-timed and generous act of putting two friends together and then taking a quiet step back. I didn’t know the day I met her how important she would be to me. And I never would have guessed that we’d one day meet up in some glitzy, gaudy, wild city with two remarkable fellas and have an absolute ball together.

It’s funny how friendship works. I really can’t explain it. But I’ll tell you what, Kimmy—I’m just so grateful for you.

~*~ Find me on Twitter @36×37
~*~ Visit the 36×37 facebook page 

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#16: The Dealer and the Double Down

google image from secretofblackjack.com

On the green felt tabletop before me there lies an ace, four, five, three and ace. My mind is closed and frozen, and the dealer is glaring at me.

I meet his aloof demeanor with an eager smile. Friendliness seems like my best option since my mind is suddenly blank, and I need his help. “Ok, John, what do I do?”

He raises an eyebrow and looks irritated. “What do you think you should do?”

“Hit? Stay. I don’t know! I’m new at this.” My mind swirls as I look at his cards. His first is face down. His upcard is a seven.

I can’t think. I can’t think! This is awful.

“What do you have. Count it. Soft 14, right? Can 14 beat a hard 17? Just think about it.”

So I tap my cards twice. “Fine. Hit me.”

“Don’t touch the cards,” he mutters.

I add another ace to my hand. That makes 15. “You’ve got to be kidding! Hit me again.”

So he does. With a seven.

John smirks as he takes my chips. When I bang my forehead just once against the table, he scolds me for breaking the house rules.

~*~

I read J. Edward Allen’s The Basics of Winning Blackjack on the first leg of our flight to Las Vegas, and I felt like I understood it. Because look: I can tell you to never hit on a hard 17 or higher. Stay on all hands between 12-16 when the dealer’s upcard is a 4, 5 or 6. Hit or double down on all soft totals under 17. And Mikey? Always double down on 11.

But when the cards start flying and the pressure is on and John the Dealer openly shows his ire, I just shut down. I can’t explain it. My entire life is like this. If I’m good at something, then I’m good at it. If I don’t catch on right away, I fall to pieces.

I know just how I look–like Austin saying ”I’ll staaaay,” on a five.

I won’t lie: Cards are not my bag, baby.

~*~

Meanwhile, my betting buddies are having their way with the blackjack table. To my left, Kim splits a pair of aces, gets a blackjack on both, leans back and says, “That’s how it’s done.” To my right, GB watches the cards methodically and collects and collects and collects. And Mason? Who knows what on earth Mason is doing—he’s fluent in this game, and he knows tricks that aren’t in the J Edward Allen guide. He takes big risks, plays big money, and the cards try to do him some favors.

Their stacks are getting higher. John still hates me.

I slide two more chips into position, and watch as they’re greeted by a pair of threes.

“Should I split ‘em?” I ask Kim. She’s distracted, “No, probably not.”

“What do you think, John? Split ‘em?”

“I would.”

So I do. John tosses me an eight and an ace. “Now what?” I ask.

“Double down.”

“For real?”

“Do it.”

So I do.

I can’t remember the rest of the hand. I only know that I won it, and the payout was nice.

“That’s it for the free advice, kid. You’re on your own.”

Shortly after, he takes a break. When he returns, he’s even angrier.

~*~

In the end, I win twice what I started with. I thank John for his cranky, spiteful help, and thank  my husband and friends for their more cheerful and steadily-flowing assistance. There wasn’t a moment in the game when I knew what I was doing, and that was fine, because guess who walked away in the black?

I wasn’t the only one who came out ahead, either. Thanks to GB and his wicked smart blackjack skillz, he tucked $210 dollars into his pocket as we walked away from the table. Not bad for a fellow first-timer. (Blow it up, G-dog!)

So there you have it: My first Vegas double down. That means I can cross 36×37 assignment #16 off the list, and move on to telling you about #17. There are some fun stories rolled up in tomorrow’s post, and I can’t wait to tell you all about them.

~*~ Follow me on Twitter: @36×37
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#15: Sunrise in the Desert

Yesterday, I mentioned that I was planning to knock out three 36×37 assignments while in Las Vegas this weekend. I did that in spades, and there are so many details to share. Since I just made it home, I’ll start with the easiest one.

GB took this brilliant shot from our 17^th floor suite at the Bellagio on the main Las Vegas strip.

I like this photo because it summarizes everything about Las Vegas—Big. Flashy. Fast-paced. Fun. A truly spectacular show.

Even more so, I liked rolling over from a cozy sleep, opening my eyes and seeing this at 6 AM Pacific time:

For all of Sin City’s famous showmanship, it has nothing on Mother Nature’s charms. I always wondered what sunrise in the desert would look like. I never imagined I’d see it like this, from the top of the world, through the window panes of such a glitzy, well-appointed place. It was really pretty incredible.

Anyway:

Tomorrow and Friday, I’ll tell you all about doubling down, GB’s crazy blackjack winnings, the meanest dealer in the world, Kim and Mason and the Roulette table, and my obsessive love for rolling the dice. Good stuff.

~*~ Follow me on Twitter: @36×37
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#15-17 are Coming: Vegas, Baby.

 

google image: probasketballtalk.nbcsports.com

As you’re reading this, I’m probably flying home from Las Vegas. And I’m probably pretty happy about that, because it means I’ve accomplished Assignments 15-17, which are as follows:

15)   Attempt to double down. Honestly, this was the whole reason for the trip, and it was inspired by this classic scene from Swingers. (Fast-forward 1:45 min.) 

I may or may not have been successful in my gambling exploits. I say “may or may not” because I’m writing this post the Thursday night before our trip. Your guess is as good as mine.

16)   Try to sneak into a high-roller room to score a free, top-shelf drink. Our friend Mason swore it could be done, and he swore he could show me how. I agreed that it was probably doable, if one was tall and blonde and Scandinavian, with an inexplicably Russian accent. On Wednesday, I’ll let you know what happened when a short, Irish/Italian brunette gave it a whirl.

 

17)   Wildcard! I did it! And it didn’t involve getting arrested, or stealing Mike Tyson’s tiger, or losing a tooth or doing anything that involved looking sparkly.

 

…But then again, maybe it did?

While you’re waiting for the full story, I have two fun facts to share about Sin City:

a)      Did you know Vegas has its own death ray? Me either, until my brother brought me up to speed a few days before GB and I headed west. Apparently, when the sun hits the new Vdara Hotel’s energy efficient windows and concave south-facing design at just the right angle, laser-like rays beam down on pool dwellers to burn them and melt their plastic cups in a matter of seconds. When the hotel’s CEO tried to prove these allegations false, the rays singed his hair and eyebrows. (If you were the kind of kid who used a magnifying glass to set ants on fire, you probably understand the science behind this phenomenon.)

b)      Also, did you know there’s a place where you can sit at a blackjack table, watch sports, order free drinks and have a stripper give you a massage? GB learned this bit of news when a buddy kicked off the conversation like this: “So. How open-minded is your wife?” To which I say, knock yourself out, GB. After 11 years with me, I think you’ve earned yourself a good, old-fashioned stripper rub-down. Meanwhile, I’ll be getting pedicures from some pool boy named Javier.

So there you have it: There’s lots to be told! Be sure to check back soon for the full scoop…

~*~ Find me on Twitter @36×37
~*~ Visit the 36×37 facebook page 

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