09-05-2002, 11:34 AM
I have tried unsuccessfully to write my trip report about my Lost Wages experience several times. The Holy Land for faithful gamblers held its arms open to the SPM with promises of riches that were never received. We arrived on a Saturday to 110 degrees in the shade, but of course it was DRY HEAT as if that made any difference at all. It was so hot the rubber on my shoes stuck to the pavement and by the time I got to the Las Vegas Hilton Resort I was barefooted.
Sunday I went to the Mirage I had played at the Bello... with all it's floors the night before. I didn't like the room the chairs or the 8/16 game with everyone fumbling around with all those one dollar chips. At every game I played in for the six days we were there, I asked if anyone posted on 2+2, "what's that, they would ask?" The town must have been empty of 2+2 posters. So I played incognito as a tourist which of course I was. Sunday I played for 13 hours and danced in the Valley of Patience for most of those hours, my chips never moved up or down more than a inch. Until Kevin from New York entered the game, he was not a shy Irish kid either. A middle aged rammer jammer who liked to pick up the pace with any two. I had seen this trick before many times, as he ran over the game winning more money than I had brought for the whole trip. Plus he made me laugh because he was pretty funny while he picked our pockets. My chip army began to slowly desert me, they said the Irish kid from NY was more fun. Well you know what I did then...it was time to cleans my bankroll at the craps table. I went on bankroll tilt and blew every single dime I had on me, it was now 5:00am and the hotel was almost three miles away. Opps!
With one dollar in my pocket I walked from the Mirage to the Hilton, this was not really a good idea for an insulin dependent diabetic. But, I didn't think I could find a free cab. I ate some glucose tablets to drive my blood sugar up and was on the hoof. I saw hookers and guys who live eat and sleep at the bus stops. The streets of Lost Wages are never empty and I may not have been the only broke guy on the strip. So I walked tall and proud like I was just out for a morning stroll. At the half way point the heat turned me into a sponge full of water and my proud walk turned into a head argument with head quarters about the tilt factor. I must have looked like some crazy guy talking to himself. I made it as far as the Hilton Casino when my energy and blood sugar bottomed out. I asked a security guard for help and told him I was out of sugar. He sat me down and brought me some more glucose and four more S-guards surrounded me. "Have you been drinking sir?" Finally I felt better and was ready to finish my fat man walk. They assigned me a personal S-guard to escort me to my room. He asks, "what's your name sir?" I thought about telling him I was the SPM but he didn't look like a 2+2 poster. So I gave him my name and then he asks me, "can you spell THAT..." So I said yes, "t-h-a-t" So he writes t-h-a-t in his report book. I knew then, I could probably get a job as a S-guard with no problem.
SPM,...look for part two soon...
Sunday I went to the Mirage I had played at the Bello... with all it's floors the night before. I didn't like the room the chairs or the 8/16 game with everyone fumbling around with all those one dollar chips. At every game I played in for the six days we were there, I asked if anyone posted on 2+2, "what's that, they would ask?" The town must have been empty of 2+2 posters. So I played incognito as a tourist which of course I was. Sunday I played for 13 hours and danced in the Valley of Patience for most of those hours, my chips never moved up or down more than a inch. Until Kevin from New York entered the game, he was not a shy Irish kid either. A middle aged rammer jammer who liked to pick up the pace with any two. I had seen this trick before many times, as he ran over the game winning more money than I had brought for the whole trip. Plus he made me laugh because he was pretty funny while he picked our pockets. My chip army began to slowly desert me, they said the Irish kid from NY was more fun. Well you know what I did then...it was time to cleans my bankroll at the craps table. I went on bankroll tilt and blew every single dime I had on me, it was now 5:00am and the hotel was almost three miles away. Opps!
With one dollar in my pocket I walked from the Mirage to the Hilton, this was not really a good idea for an insulin dependent diabetic. But, I didn't think I could find a free cab. I ate some glucose tablets to drive my blood sugar up and was on the hoof. I saw hookers and guys who live eat and sleep at the bus stops. The streets of Lost Wages are never empty and I may not have been the only broke guy on the strip. So I walked tall and proud like I was just out for a morning stroll. At the half way point the heat turned me into a sponge full of water and my proud walk turned into a head argument with head quarters about the tilt factor. I must have looked like some crazy guy talking to himself. I made it as far as the Hilton Casino when my energy and blood sugar bottomed out. I asked a security guard for help and told him I was out of sugar. He sat me down and brought me some more glucose and four more S-guards surrounded me. "Have you been drinking sir?" Finally I felt better and was ready to finish my fat man walk. They assigned me a personal S-guard to escort me to my room. He asks, "what's your name sir?" I thought about telling him I was the SPM but he didn't look like a 2+2 poster. So I gave him my name and then he asks me, "can you spell THAT..." So I said yes, "t-h-a-t" So he writes t-h-a-t in his report book. I knew then, I could probably get a job as a S-guard with no problem.
SPM,...look for part two soon...