Wednesday, September 11, 2019

Cheap luggage on the Vegas strip

The following was originally posted deep in a thread on the Five Hundy Facebook group, but to make it world-searchable, I’m cross-posting it here. I’d asked the group where to find basically disposable luggage in the tourist area, and after a bunch of suggestions, instead of picking one and going with it, I spent two hours walking the strip and poking my head into the far back corners of bodegas and souvenir shops. 

—-

I’ve lost much more of my gambling bankroll than normal this trip, so after dinner at Jaleo, instead of giving more to the video poker gods, I decided to get a conclusive answer to my question. Hint: nobody suggested the right answer, including me. 

So, my criteria was that the suitcase had to be carry-on size, capable of holding a laptop bag, five textbooks, and a few other odds and ends, with wheels, and not so small that it would be awkward to use. I needed to find it in the tourist area. The results, from most expensive to the answer:

ABC Store next to Hard Rock Café: $60
CVS next to Park MGM: $56. Only hard case suitcases here.
Marshalls: $40
Ross: $36
Cable Center Shops (the skeezy strip mall Mike Gavin warned me of): $35 at One Stop Market, $40 each at neighboring Viva Vegas and Miyabia Gifts

Souvenirs Mini-Mart next to Travelodge had one for $25, but it had no internal framework. Not a duffel bag on wheels, it was an imploding rectangular blob on wheels. No.

There are no stores selling luggage at Hawaiian Marketplace. Walgreens by Hard Rock Café doesn’t sell luggage. 

The winner, which was almost literally under my nose as I ate dinner: Jockey Club’s gift shop, $30.
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Tuesday, August 27, 2019

On future cache machines

(TL;DR: Upcoming CMs will be less frequent.)

I apologize for getting the Chelan Cache Machine draft route out so late, and for not yet having the event page up (or even started). I could make the same excuse I've done for the lateness of the previous four cache machines -- work's been busy, kid's off to college, family events -- but really, that's not it.

For the 17 years I've been planning cache machines, the task of creating the routes has almost been as much fun as hitting on the road. Almost everywhere was a new area for me: a town I haven't visited, part of a county I hadn't explored, parks I'd not taken us to. I'm a map nerd, so finding the right way into a large park or urban parking lot using satellite photos, street view, county construction plans, tourist photos, and chatting with locals about closures has been a way for me to explore an area before I arrive. To me, it's as much a part of the event as the caching itself. I frequently had a feeling of déja vu I when I cache machined a road that I'd previously scoped out online. This happened so often, I've come to refer to it as "Google Vu".

But as time passed, the fun has worn off. I didn't make it to the Wenatchee event I planned in March 2018, truly because I was on an unexpected trip for work, but even as my plane flew back from Philadelphia, over Wenatchee while cachers were enjoying dinner below, I looked down and had a brief thought: been there, done that, and I had more fun travelling for work.

The planning for each subsequent CM -- Vancouver WA, Colville, Shelton, Pendleton, and Monroe -- have each felt more like "work" than fun, especially the task of finding somewhere for dinner. I subtly announced last year that I'd planned on ending the run of Cache Machines in January 2023. Now, I'm not sure. For Chelan, I spent two weeks postponing my calendar reminder to start work on it. When I did finally start on it two weekends ago, I quickly found other things to do. Last week, it felt like a chore to get the route designed, and I've *barely* done any work on finding a dinner location. As I was about to post today's draft route, I realized I'd totally forgot to include anything other than favorites and traditionals, and I almost set it aside again, despite having the files ready for import. (I did add them, and modified the route accordingly.)

Quincy, October 2015
I've really had a lot of fun on recent cache machines; I've got a great team in my car and a great crew of regulars who show up, rain or shine or snow. Attendees have shown me incredible levels of appreciation and support. Of the thousands of caches we've found, and among the hundreds of attendees and cache owners, there's been less than a handful of bad moments, and none of those have been recent (so no, this feeling isn't coming from a bad experience or grumpy encounter). Without exception, people have come up to me at every cache machine dinner, thanking me profusely for organizing the event. My response, which is as true today as it was after the first CM in 2002, was first, you're welcome, and then more importantly, thanks for coming and having fun. If people weren't showing up, CMs would've ended a long time ago.

This all being said, cache machines are NOT going away, yet. However, the aggressive quarterly schedule that I've been on since 2007 is going to slow down to a crawl. Chelan will be September 21. Corvallis will likely be next February or March (not January 4), but no promises yet. After that, locations and dates aren't certain. As always, you can find my thoughts on upcoming locations on my profile page, https://www.geocaching.com/profile/?guid=7903f6db-0bcc-482e-8667-9fe7d77aae0a

If, for some reason, the basic functionality of GSAK, the obsolete Streets & Trips software, or pocket queries stop functioning, well, that will likely be the end. Until then, however, just expect a slower, more leisurely CM schedule.

I really am looking forward to visiting Chelan, running the route, and seeing so many of you again. I'm looking forward to Corvallis, Surrey , Anacortes, and a return to Astoria. But I'm not looking forward to the route planning, and that's, well, kinda weird to me, because for years, that was one of my favorite parts.

TravisL
August 27, 2019
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Monday, June 17, 2019

Trip report: Dave's 50th

Last November, I received a notification from my Vegas Nerd friend Dave: he's hitting 50 in June, and he's inviting a bunch of us to Las Vegas to celebrate. Whooo! Vegaaaas! My 25th trip to Vegas is now complete. I wasn't going to do a writeup, and didn't think I'd have much to say, but one of the other nerds said he looks forward to them, so 4500 words later, here you go.

Thursday, June 6:
After an airport lockdown (missing kid, found) and an hour mechanical delay (leaking fluid), the flight and layover are uneventful. My wife and I land in Vegas about an hour late, so we grab our bags, rush to the Downtown Grand to drop them off, and then head over to Carson Kitchen to meet up with the crew, late.

The place was packed, but the staff managed to scrounge up two more seats at the table. My wife and I order food and drinks, then scrounge on the shared plates that had already arrived. The tempura green beans were great, as was the spicy chicken sandwich. The veal meatballs were merely good; it just wasn't as tasty as I'd hoped.

Drinks were had.
After dinner, the group heads down to The D where we meet up with Mark and lose Richard. The noise is a bit much, so we bid a brief farewell, head to our hotel, and unpack. While my wife settles in for the night, I meet up with Dave, Pete, and Mark at Atomic Liquors. Drinks are tasty, the conversation is fascinating, and Mark picks up the tab (thanks, Mark!). Wandering up Fremont, we attempt to enter the Container park, but they close in 10 minutes. We duck in to the Griffin, but it's so loud, we realize that conversation would be impossible.

It's late, but I'm a night owl, so while the rest of the party retires for the night, I hit up Four Queens for some video poker. After about 20 minutes, I hit quads for $62.50, and decide that ending up ahead on my first night in Vegas is a good choice. I cash out, sleepily head back to Downtown Grand, and stumble across the crew hanging out at Art Bar. I hang out with them for a few minutes, and then it's time to sleep.

Friday, June 7:
The front's smashed, the back's smashed, the airbag is
deployed, and there's part of the car still behind the rear bus.
What a mess.
There's no better breakfast place in Vegas than Eat (shut up about the soggy pancakes out at Suncoast already), so my wife and I stroll over there. On the way, at the corner of Las Vegas Blvd. and Fremont St., we see that a speedy silver sports car has was completely destroyed against two double-decker buses. At first, I thought perhaps the driver barrelled out of the El Cortez alley, turning left, but there's a curb dividing the roadway there, and the curb didn't look damaged. What we didn't see was the car smashed into the back of the rear bus. News reports say that the back car was parked up near Cashman Field when a police officer noticed "erratic behavior" on the part of the driver. When the cops attempted to make a stop, the car shot like a bat out of hell, careening down Las Vegas Blvd., rear ending the car we saw, spinning it around, and then both cars smashed into the buses. What a mess.

Onward to Eat. Breakfast was outstanding, as always. I tried the chilaquiles, my wife had her traditional cinnamon biscuits. Perfection. So good, in fact, that the family at the table next to us had to stop us to ask "what's that? We want to order it, too." Excellent choice.

We grabbed a Lyft to the North Outlet Mall, and on the way, noticed that the demolished car and the two buses were still being worked on. A little shopping, a little walking, and with temperatures approaching 100°, a little too much heat. We Lyfted back to the Downtown Grand, lost some money on the slots, freshened up, and then headed to Mirage to meet up with the crew.

It's really early for the meet up, so we stop in at Treasure Island, and I hung my head in shame when I couldn't find the tram entrance. Instead, we walk over to Mirage and stop at Carnegie Deli for a snack. That hot dog was huge! Then we take some money from the slots, which we promptly give back into the bubble craps machine.

Now, time for the meetup, in memory of Al from San Diego. Richard captured the moment:

Glasses raised, memories shared, drinks downed... time for dinner. Most of the crew made the slow wander up to Best Friend at Park MGM; my wife and I took the slow Lyft. Like earlier this morning, some yahoo slammed their car against the barricades at the bus stop in front of Paris. Thank goodness for the new bollards.

Once at Park MGM, we wandered briefly through Eataly. Maybe we'll try the 3 PM walking tour on Sunday. Then, Best Friend.

Best Friend, with friends
Oh my god. I think I'm going to have to update my Most Memorable Travel Meals post. Best Friend is Chef Roy Choi's L.A.-influenced Mexican-Korean fusion, and everything we ordered was ideal. The short rib tacos. The corn. The eggplant. The tempura. The freaking kimchi fried rice. The raspberry-filled marshmallows, for christ's sake. Every, Single, One of these were the best of their kind that I've had.

But really, the best part of the meal was the conversation and developing friendships that the meal fostered. We wanted photos of the food, and Aaron and Katie had taken several. On Katie's Facebook page, we saw a photo of her adorable cat. That prompted half an hour of sharing photos of pets, both current and fondly remembered. The table talked about music. Outside, Big Hoss wandered by, Ute spotted him, and Dave chased him down for a brief visit to our table.

I didn't realize it then, but this was the first anniversary of the death of one of Chef Choi's best friends, Anthony Bourdain, who once said "The perfect meal, or the best meals, occur in a context that frequently has very little to do with the food itself," and "You learn a lot about someone when you share a meal together." I'm being presumptuous, but I don't doubt that Anthony would agree that this was one of the those meals.

The Horseshoe sign, lit once again
We lingered over dessert, talked friendships and Vegas and oh-my-god-that-was-good. My wife was done for the day, so she Lyfted back to the hotel while several of us Lyfted to Brilliant! at the Neon Museum. Old casino signs that aren't part of the normal tour are exhibited in a separate lot, and a projection system brings them to life, throwing circles of light where bulbs used to be, colored lines on the missing neon tubes, and in some cases, animation of signage that never could have been animated in their heyday.

Reviews of Brilliant! have been unequivocally positive. Some have said it made them teary-eyed. For me, yes, it was neat, but not as amazing as some have made it out to be. Still, as a Vegas nerd, and in particular, a Vegas history buff, it was great to see these signs illuminated again. The best part, however, was the elderly couple next to me. Easily in their 70s, perhaps in their 80s, she leaned against his chest, his arms around her, both of them facing the lit-up Stardust and Horseshoe signs. Mid-century video of Las Vegas played. "Do you remember that?" he asked quietly, the awe and nostalgia evident in his voice. "Of course I do," she replied lovingly. My heart melted.

The show over, we headed into the gift shop. I took a look at Al's paver through the window, but I'd seen enough photos of it that I didn't need to get one of my own. We caught a ride back to Fremont. While the rest of the crew wrapped it up for the night, I headed over to Main Street Station for some winning video poker, losing craps, and poor slots. Then I wandered over to Golden Gate to check out the new Circa sportsbook and lose another $40 in slots. Shrug. Finally, about 2 AM, it was time to call it a night.

Saturday, June 8: 

 
  
Where is it?Peek a boo!
The room at the Downtown Grand was a bit odd. We're two nights in, and gave up on finding a way to control the heat. No thermostat visible, no AC unit to mess with. It wasn't uncomfortably warm, but still on the warm side. As I'm dozing off to sleep, I finally hear it: the "click" of a thermostat. Where is it?!? I flick the lights on and search where I thought I heard the sound. Wow. That's some terrible planning. It's hidden in a 2-inch wide gap behind the lamp.

I drop the temperature a few degrees, and sleep soundly the rest of the night.

After the amazing dinner on Friday, any breakfast would be a let down. Main Street Station is said to have the best buffet downtown. While that's true, it's also like being the prettiest weed in the garden. It's nothing special, maybe a step above Old Country Buffet. Beyond that, it's a Saturday morning, so my 2-for-1 coupon didn't count due to the bottomless mimosa brunch going on. Meh. Better than a Hampton Inn breakfast bar, I guess.

I played some video poker, my wife played slots for a while, both losers. We headed back to the Downtown Grand, and while my wife napped, I headed over to Golden Gate to drop some money on the Belmont Stakes. I'd come in with a plan to bet a handful of exactas and a few win/place/show bets, but discovered that Circa only offered win bets and head-to-heads. Fine -- I put $10 each on four horses. None of them won. Meh.

I head back to the hotel to freshen up and meet my wife. Our 25th anniversary was a few days ago, and I've got reservations at Hugo's Cellar.

Obligatory food photo
Dinner was good, probably one of the best on Fremont. Again, that's kind of like being a good looking weed in the garden. Granted, in any other town, this would be one of the best, most romantic restaurants around. Competition is tough in Vegas, though, so merely "really good" doesn't put it in the top ten.

Specifically, the service was impeccable, the courses were delicious, but still lacked the "wow" factor. There were no surprises, just solid, well executed dishes. We each had a filet mignon, which, again, were delicious, but not quite the best we've had (Alain Ducasse and Mix: you've spoiled us for life). The restaurant surprised us with an anniversary dessert: chocolate covered strawberries, figs, and dried fruit. Well worth the stop.

As an aside, the staff handled the high-maintenance woman at the table next to us with grace. She wanted a new table? They moved her. She wanted a special salad "because I don't eat carbs"? They accommodated her. She wanted more bread? Sure thing, without pointing out the discordance. "I dropped my napkin. Get me another." The waitstaff did, despite the strongly implied "boy" her sneering condescending voice spewed. Well done.

My wife was feeling tired, so I tucked her in and then headed out to meet the crew at The Underground at the Mob Museum, a hidden speakeasy down the stairs in the back. A goon rang the bell, a slot opened, and two eyes peered out. "Yeah", the door asked. "Jelly bean." The door opened. "Come on in." John and Ute were already at the bar, Dave and Pete arrive a few minutes later. Jazz was playing. Drinks were had. Museum exhibits were discussed. I tweeted:


After quite a bit of time soaking in the history and atmosphere, we wandered over to Oak and Ivy at the Container Park. More drinks, including one that Dave had involving a butane torch, oak smoke, and whiskey. Afterwards, the crew headed back to their hotels, but I dropped off for Saturday Night at the El Cortez, where the floor shows are abundant and the oxygen tanks are loosely stowed.

The video poker at ElCo continues to spiral towards irrelevance; many more of the low-edge machines are gone. Still, table games have $5 limits even on a Saturday night, so I spent some time at the three-card poker table, making back a little bit of my losses.

Sunday, June 9:

It's checkout time, and my daughter is flying in from L.A. to meet us. My wife and I catch a quick Lyft to Mandalay Bay, and because I'm cheap, I've chosen the shared ride option. We leave Downtown Grand, go around the block ... and Lyft's algorithm brings the driver back to Downtown Grand for another passenger. We drive to an old apartment complex on far east Fremont, where we drop her off. Although she's sitting next to me, my wife texts:



Onward to Mandalay Bay. Thankfully, they don't have the ridiculous kiosk-only check in that I saw at Park MGM. Instead, the helpful clerk miraculously finds me a free early check-in and two beds on the 24th floor overlooking the pool. My daughter arrives, we ditch our bags, and the three of us head to breakfast at Mon Ami Gabi. Although you can't reserve tables on the patio -- it's first come, first served -- we knew this in advance, so don't mind waiting the 30 minutes to get a seat. Meanwhile, I play some video poker while my ladies catch up with each other's lives. I get SO close to a royal, but no, not even a flush, straight, or fanboy.

Paris: So close!
The women have breakfast, which they say is as great as always, especially the thick french toast. I have a cubano sandwich with fries. I mean, when in France, you've gotta have french toast and french fries, right?

My daughter wants to check out her company's outlet store at the North Outlet Mall and size me for some sweaters, so we head there next. Once I get fitted for those (kinda tight -- I need to lose some inches), I leave them to their shopping and catch a Lyft to the Happiest Place on Earth: Chandelier at Cosmopolitan. (No, you lie, Double Down Saloon.)

I get a whiskey sour, play for about 20 minutes, am down $25, and then hit my biggest win of the trip: quad deuces with a kicker for $500. Whoo! Of course, I play away a good chunk of that in the next 90 minutes, but score more tasty drinks, including my favorite, Becky with the Good Hair, off their cocktail menu, so yeah, it was good to play instead of going shopping.

My wife texts: they're headed back to Mandalay, so I cash out and mosey up there, tram to tram. We get ready for dinner, and then Lyft over to Palms. We duck through the hidden entrance in the arcade to Greene Street Kitchen. Although my daughter is a fan of Banksy, I didn't warn her that a piece of his artwork would be displayed her. As we walk past it, I nudge her and point. She stops cold, jaw drops.

Smiley Coppers Panel I (2002)
Spray paint and emulsion on drywall
"I'll be a minute," while we head to our table.

This is probably the second best meal of the trip, after Best Friend. Taylor from New Mexico was right: the thai beef lettuce cups are outstanding; the spices, the lettuce, the crispy noodle garnish, and the pico de gallo combine into perfection. Almost as good: Alaskan King Crab Tempura. I started referring to it as "popcorn king crab nuggets," which is the best description I can give it. We had quite a bit left at the end of the meal, and it was the one item we got in a to-go box. My daughter muched them all down over the next two hours.

The blistered shishito peppers were as good as I've had. The mini Maine lobster rolls were also good. The Philly cheese steak egg rolls were, unfortunately, a little dry. They're better at Holstein's. With so much food, we shouldn't have ordered the entree, the half roasted chicken. We picked at it; it was good, but nothing special.

We've eaten far too much. We waddle out of Greene Street, out of Palms, and catch a Lyft back to Chandelier. Somehow, we manage to find three side-by-side-by-side VP machines at the first floor bar. My wife leaves after about an hour, but my daughter and I head up to Chandelier 2 to grab some seats and wait to meet up with Dave for his midnight toast. Dave arrives, then John and Ute. I order verbenas for my daughter and myself. Those are the drinks with the flower you chew that makes your mouth feel like it's vibrating, and then changes the flavor of the tequila drink it comes with. I'd never tried one; I'd been waiting for the opportunity to have one with her. She's one of my favorite drinking and Vegas buddies, and she tells me she enjoys it almost as much as I do.

Such a happy place
Sadly, it was underwhelming. A few minutes after we had ours, a woman with her crew at the next table asks us, "Did you try one? It tastes like chewing dirt!" She wasn't happy with the taste nor the experience. She and her crew struck up a conversation with my daughter, while I engaged in conversation with Dave and our crew. Big Hoss, happy as ever, arrived shortly after.

So imagine this scene from the view of the table next to us. An attractive 23-year-old woman (yes, I'm biased, because I'm proud of her), at the hippest bar in Las Vegas, sitting and getting drinks from a loud group of tipsy men in their late 40s and early 50s. I give them all the credit in the world for assuming that my daughter might not be in a safe situation. I'd hope that they'd do what they did again -- they covertly implied their curiosity as to whether she was OK and needed an escape. Props. Thank you. More power to you.

She didn't need an escape, but realized her awkwardness and was ready to go. Without a full understanding of the situation, I called her a Lyft and walked her to the pickup area. With her on her way back to Mandalay, I returned to Chandelier, where at the stroke of midnight, Dave turned 50. Cheers!

Monday, June 10:

Before I headed out on this trip, my wife and daughter had toyed with the idea of getting a cabana. I'm not a pool guy, and the prices seemed way out of line with what made sense, so I threw it out to a Vegas nerd Facebook group: what to do. The consensus was to wait until Monday morning, when the demand would be lower. I also decided that my wife and daughter would have a better negotiating position than me, because I'm a dude.

But first, breakfast. We woke up at 9:30, and my family was trying to figure out a good traditional breakfast spot. The Grand Lux Café came to mind. They stop serving breakfast at 11. We're downstairs at Mandalay Bay at 10:25. Think we'll make it?

The Lyft arrives at 10:31.

We're dropped off at the front of the Venetian at 10:45.

Security points us in the right direction. It's 10:50, and there's a line.

Grand transportation
We're seated at 10:56. The waitress takes our drink orders and is on the ball, pointing out that if she gets the order in soon, we can still get breakfast. We made it. It's decent. Good stuff. We talk politics and Uncle Sheldon's GOP contributions, but as some other Vegas nerds have said, we're on vacation, so I don't want to think too hard about the sourcing of my coffee.

I've got a slot ticket for the Downtown Grand we'd forgotten to cash out, so after breakfast, I head north while my wife and daughter head back to Mandalay to hit the pool. Unlike many casinos, the Grand's tickets are only good for 90 days, so it's not like I could wait until my next trip. I cash out, and check the free shuttle schedule. I've got about 45 minutes until the next one leaves. so I check out the craps table. Nobody's playing. Instead, I wander over to the Fremont and lose my buy-in at their craps table. Ah well.

Cabana time
The Grand's shuttle takes me to the north strip, along with two other women and their luggage, dropping us off at the Fashion Show Mall. I start to call a Lyft to go to Cosmopolitan, but partway through, I get a text: "At cabana in Delano Bay". They negotiated $50 off the price, and my wife decided to splurge. Intrigued, I route my Lyft back to the hotel instead, change into pool wear, and hit the pool deck by 2:00.

I've been telling people I only spent four hours there, but checking my records, it was less than two-and-a-half. Pools just ain't my thing. My daughter, however, has repeated several times that it was the best day of her life. She loved the "frozé" (a rosé slushie), the refrigerator stocked with all the water and pop we needed, the amazing service from our waitress, Shay. Despite a couple of service hiccups (the cabana host appeared once the entire stay, there was a miscommunication with the drink order), they had an amazing time. More for them.

I see you, terrace suites.
As is my personal tradition, for my last night in town, I slowly made my way to the Fountains of Bellagio for the performance of "Con de Partiro" ("Time to Say Goodbye"). On the way there, I texted my wife: "Dinner thought: China Poblano?" Yup!

At 7 PM, the water soared, Bocelli and Brightman crooned, and I teared up a little. Then of course, I headed over to Chandelier to wait for my family. They arrived around 8, and we grabbed a table. On the way in, it's Dave! We invited him to share our table, and we chatted some more, enjoying our standard fare of xiao long bao, "Lucky 6" siu mai, "Ants Climbing a Tree" (chicken glass noodles), and "Swallow a Cloud" wonton soup. Dave suggested a seasonal drink, the coocoomacoo or something like that, which tasted like a cross between an old fashioned and a margarita. It's good, like everything else here always is. Chef José Andrés does great work, both culinarily and socially, so I'm happy to shut up and give him my money.

It wasn't until days later I realized I'd skipped my regular drink, the Salt Air Margarita. No big. I'd had plenty of amazing drinks and meals this trip. But dang.

Goodnight Vegas. Goodnight cars.
Goodnight poker. Goodnight bars.
We bid Dave farewell and happy birthday, and Lyfted back to Mandalay Bay. My wife and daughter were exhausted, but I've only been in town five days and still energized. My other last night in Vegas tradition is to try and walk the strip the last night, from one end to the other (counting Encore as the north end). I usually succeed about a third of the time. Tonight was no different. I decided I'd seek out the Britney slot machines and the super bright and loud dragon game ("TWO MORE FOR THE BONUS! ONE MORE FOR THE BONUS!") and play only those. The result: no Britney (those machines seem to be getting rare now that she's left town), and losses at Troopicana, MGM, Flamingo, and Linq. Cromwell sucked me in for a bit with their excellent video poker (loss), and I broke even at Casino Royale. At 2 AM, it was time to call it a night.

Tuesday, June 11:
So long, failure monument.

We're up and packing at 9 AM. For a quick breakfast, we head downstairs to the coffee shop. The food is decent, but unremarkable. Meh. The manager, however, takes time to welcome us, ask how we're doing, and find out about our stay. When he discovers that my daughter might be back for a trade show in February, he promises her a free drink if she remembers his name. I'm sure she'll take him up on that.

After that, it's a pretty standard trip to McCarran. Security lines are short, goodbyes are said, and we're on our planes home.

Epilogue:

It was another great trip. I came home with more than half of my budgeted bankroll intact. I had more good food and good drink than any other trip to date. And the people I met and re-met were the best part. Plus I was able to spend it with my wife and daughter, which is always a treat.

Things to do again:
  • Best Friend. That meal was the highlight of the trip. Perhaps it can only be done properly with lots of friends sharing lots of dishes. I hope I can arrange that.
  • Get my family more pool time. I'm not a pool person, but they really enjoyed it. More for them, seriously.
  • China Poblano. Every trip. Yes.
Things I meant to do but didn't:
  • Gordon Ramsay Fish & Chips at the Linq was offering Beef Wellington and Chips as their special for the month. I meant to get there. Never did.
  • Millenium Fandom: This sci-fi bar in the arts district was on my calendar for Saturday. Then I moved it to Sunday. then I moved it to Monday. It never happened.
  • Haus of Gaga: Lady Gaga's residency at Park MGM brought about a small museum of her styles. I heard nothing but good things about it. I walked past it multiple times. I never made it in. Next time.
  • Trailer Station: The morning we left, a temporary trailer casino opened on the site of the new Circa Hotel. They do that to keep their gaming license active. I've never been in town when one of these trailer casinos was open. Didn't make it this time, either.
  • Rose.Rabbit.Lie.: Eventually.
Things I'm done with:

  • Buffets. They're either overpriced or just meh. There's better options.
  • Jacks or Better: I need more variance in my life, and Triple Double Bonus is sure nice when it hits.

It's three months until my next Vegas trip, and I can't wait!





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Thursday, October 18, 2018

Trip report: notVIMFP 2018

Where to start? My list of "stuff I did" is 75 items long, so I guess starting at the beginning is the best way. I'm always so excited for the October Vegas nerds trip, and this year, without an official event to bring us together, I feared it wouldn't happen... until an announcement came in late June:



Woot! Count me in. A few months later, and I'm on a flight to the promised land, listening to the song of my people:



Terminal 1, with no loud video screens.
It feels wrong, like I'm in terminal 3.
Thursday night:

Arriving at McCarran, I share the first of many Lyfts this weekend, this time to Luxor and check in. I'd reserved a basic Pyramid room -- hey, four nights were "free" and the fifth was "$19", plus $200 in resort fees -- and I'm flying solo, so no big deal. However, I tipped the clerk $20 and asked about complementary upgrades. A few taps on her keyboard, and she responds "we had you in a first floor pyramid room, but I've got you in one of the remodeled rooms on the 9th floor, east tower." Cha-ching! We talk briefly about how they'd been remodeled in December, and I head up.

The room's actually kinda nice. At this price point ("free"), it's really nice. Better than the Park MGM down the street, which fellow nerd Charles described well: It'd be a perfectly fine Hampton Inn in Dubuque, Iowa.
Not bad, Luxor remodelers.

I ditch my bags and head out for my first night in Vegas. Strolling up the strip, my destination, of course, is Chandelier at Cosmo. On the way, I glance at the high limit rooms in Luxor, Excalibur, and NYNY, but decide that the room at Cosmo is best for my plan. I should've started this a long time ago, but going forward, I hope that my first bet every trip is $100 on one number on a single-zero roulette wheel. That's way above my normal wager amount, but not enough that it's going to crush my bankroll, and with a $3500 payout, would be a trip-changing win. I drop a black chip on 4, the ball drops on 18. Maybe next time.

At Chandelier, the bar is full. I can't get a video poker seat, so I head over to Bond instead. It's my first time playing there, but the drinks are equally crafty and the clientele is equally entertaining. I played video poker for around 90 minutes, downing my first whiskey sour of the trip and eventually using two drink tickets for "The Secretariat", a citrusy julep with a star anise floater. Pretty good.

Caesars has a promotion where you get extra tier credits for earning 25 credits a certain number of days in a row, so I hop over to Planet Hollywood to start earning those credits. I hit the target, up 54¢ on the deal, and call it a night. I hop back across the strip, through Aria, through the sad Park MGM, and realize I should stop by CVS for some water bottles for the room.

In the construction walkway outside of Park MGM, I walk through a flock of hookers, who ask "how you doin' baby"and "where you going?". I don't break pace. "No thanks," I reply. "CVS." Oddly, one of them tries to trip me. I just keep walking. Oh, Vegas.

Friday:

I've got a $50 food/beverage/entertainment credit at Luxor. I figure I've got plenty of time to use it, so instead I grab a Lyft to the breakfast battle in the Miracle Mile shops. I chose La Salsa Cantina over Blondies this time, because I wanted tortillas instead of toast. Some egg, some breakfast potatoes, some orange juice, and I'm out.

I wander up to Flamingo where I buy in at the $2/$4 limit poker table. It's always a soft game, and today was no different. I get some good cards to start with, I'm up about $40, but then the deck turns. I cash out for exactly what I bought in for, and lose $30 on slots while earning today's 25 points.

I want my two dollars.
There's no good video poker here, but there is at Main Street Station, so I grab a shared Lyft. A quad and some other nice play nets me $100, a $2 scratch ticket, and attentive service from the cocktail server.

Next, I mosey to the Sigma Derby machine at The D. I've got a winning system this time, I just know it. I'll bet on the favorite and the long shot. Brilliant! Thirty minutes later, I'm down $10, so I try a different strategy: bet a quarter on everything that's longer odds than 10:1. I hit a 37:1, and a 14:1, but yeah, that's not a long term financial winner, either.

You know what might provide financial security? No, not really. But I decide to drop $80 on eight spins of Vital Vegas's "old faithful" machine at Four Queens. It pays me nothing. More money for the next guy, I guess.

I play some ancient video poker at Fremont (but Sam Boyd's Treasure Chest won't take my $20), and then head over to Golden Gate for the main Friday night get-together. Name tags, handshakes, hugs, cheers, singing, laughing, drinking, and wagering ensue. Some video poker, some group craps play, and some group slot pulls (thanks, Eddie!). Man, I missed this group of misfits. I catch a Lyft back to Luxor and hit the sack.
Take my money, horses.
This space reserved for nerds.
Saturday:

Oh yeah, that $50 food credit. Sounds like breakfast at the Luxor café. They may have de-themed the Luxor a little bit, but there's only so much you can do with a giant pyramid. Thankfully, the theming continues into the menu items. I order a pyramid of pancakes and a side of eggs. It was a decent meal. Not Eat quality, but it's pancakes and eggs. Shrug. I eat about half of it, because I need to leave room for my next stop.

I grab a Lyft to Donut Bar just off Fremont, meeting up with six other nerds for coffee and donuts as big as a stack of DVDs. I order the Homer.


Muckleshoot!
A sub-group of us wander up to Plaza for their 1 PM bingo session. Some of the best video poker is supposed to be on the machines right outside the bingo hall, but it turns out those machines were moved elsewhere. We head back downstairs and play for about 30 minutes. I see others hit a few quads, but not me. No big deal, though, because bingo begins.

There's about 10 of us nerds playing, probably irritating all of the other old people in there with our snickering when O-69 is called. And three games in, I hit the three way bingo for a $250 payout. Cha-ching!


Another nerd wins $60 a few games later. Seems like a successful event, and something we'll definitely need to do again next year.

Next up: the Happy Half Hour on the High Roller ferris wheel. I forgot my ticket in my room, so I zip out of the Plaza and grab a pair of Lyfts to Luxor and the Linq. I arrive right on time.

The Happy Half Hour, for those of you who don't know, is essentially an all-you-can-drink on the world's tallest ferris wheel. About a dozen of us piled into the orb, along with a smaller group of people celebrating their friend's 21st birthday. Cheers!

Our chariot
Drink up, nerds. You've got 30 minutes.
There's a lot of dirt moved around on the
site of Caesars Forum, and holes deep enough
to hide bodies in. Like that happens in Vegas.

We talk about the new Caesars convention space construction, the Madison Sphere Garden, and the Wynn golf course redevelopment. We chat about views from rooms we've stayed in, and views from rooms we wish we stayed in. We refill our drinks, and fill them again. We get a glass to go, and exit through the gift shop.



We chat a bit more in the promenade outside, and then slowly split off. I hop into The Linq to churn through today's 25 Total Rewards points (-$14.50). Eventually, I check my phone's Vegas Mate app to see if there was anything on my to-do list that I'd forgotten. Eureka! I catch an Uber to dinner at Eureka on East Fremont.

The sandwich? Pretty good.
The fries? Amazing.
I'm still a bit tipsy from the open bar, so I decide to have a diet... wait, is that a...? I order an Outlaw Milk Stout, the steak dip sandwich, and sweet potato fries, which the waitress informs me are dusted with cinnamon and drizzled with honey. The sandwich was very good, the fries were amazing. The mild tang of the sweet potato merges with the sweetness of the honey and slight dustiness of the cinnamon taste to create a taste combination I never would have considered, but it works really well.

Wait. This isn't my hyperlocal Seattle food blog (subtle plug). Forget that. It tasted good. Service was excellent. I forgot that I could have used my Golden Gate/The D "One" card points to pay for it. Oops.

I hoofed it from there over to the notMain non-Event at Vue Bar at The D. I went easy on the drinking, nursing a water for quite a while. Many of the Vegas nerds were there, although there were others in town who didn't show. Vegas happens, so we gladly spread rumors that they were living it up in Pahrump, trying to appear on the Live PD TV show.

I'm glad it wasn't 1,610 physical nickels.
That'd be inconvenient.
The party slowly winds down, and we wander off our own ways. I head back to the El Cortez, looking for their legendary 100+% payback video poker machines. After a lot of looking, I finally give up and instead play a 5¢ wheel poker machine (hit quads, spin the wheel). I hit quad aces and won 800 nickels ($40), and then spin the wheel and won another 800 nickels. Woot!

It's getting close to midnight, and I wander over to the Third Street stage and watch Zowie Bowie perform a trio of '80s cover songs. I see why he's been performing around this town for ages: he's good. Next door at Four Queens, I play a Silver Strike machine and take about $70 of money out of it. Then through the sad Binions back room and across the street to briefly play video poker at California. I'm tired and not that into it, so head back to Golden Gate to see if anyone's still out and about. They're not, but I leave my obligatory $20 in Top Dollar.

I catch a shared Lyft back to the Luxor, and before I head to bed, I check the Twitters to see if anyone's meeting up to watch football the next morning. There's no consensus, and I tend to be anti-social introverted, so I plan to go to Westgate and watch from there. Oh yeah, I'd better stop by Luxor's sportsbook and figure out my bets before I go to sleep. Morning comes early, and I don't want to miss the 10 AM betting deadline while I'm still trying to figure out what to wager on.

Sunday:

Up and at 'em! With less than an hour to kick off, I hop in an Uber to Westgate, find a comfy chair in the sportsbook (yay, soloing!), and get my bets in. That'll be the Seahawks at -3, the Cardinals at +9½, the Bucs/Falcons under 57½, the Bills/Texans over 40, and a Ties Win parlay of all these at an extra +½.

It didn't go so well. The Seahawks bet was the only one that paid. Ah well. A couple of free drinks, a couple of $3 hot dogs, a few hours of Sunday morning football in the best spot to watch it all... it's well worth the cost of admission.

I played a couple more hours of video poker there, being dealt a Fanboy but ending up with a simple flush. Then it was on to Palms to check out the shark.
Another Fanboy.Sigh.
The Uber took me past the (un)Lucky Dragon, which was closed and blocked off with a chain link fence. Kinda sad, really.
Rather unlucky, dragon.


At Palms, I wondered how easy the shark would be to find. It's not difficult. You walk in the front door, and it's right there.

I played some 100+% video poker there for a while, and then wanderd across the street to Gold Coast. I was kinda craving dim sum, and I've heard that the Chinese food at Ping Pang Pong is among the best in town. More video poker first, and I'm glad I took the time, because a tweet came through alerting me to more notVIMFP shenanigans:

I high tailed it over to Cosmopolitan, but didn't find any nerds at Chandelier. However, as I'm looking for people, nerd Roland tweets that he hit his first ever royal flush at Bond. I grab a seat next to him and his wife (dang, can't remember her name!), hoping that their luck will rub off and I notch a win. Nope, down a bit instead. On Twitter, we chat about dinner options, and I make a decision to meet at Yong Kang Street at 8:30. Three other nerds join the three of us, and we enjoy a mix of tame Chinese dishes. Because I suggested it, and had eaten there twice before, it seemed like the rest of the group turned to me to figure out what to order off the dim sum cart. Fortunately, it was all tasty. No, it's no Din Tai Fung, but then what is?

We agree that dinner the next night should be at Peppermill. 7 PM? 8 PM? Fine, 7:30 it is. I think to myself... maybe after dinner, I can check out the much derided Slots-A-Fun. I mean, if we're going to Peppermill, which is on the right side of cheesy Vegas 70's kitsch, why not check out the wrong side? I don't mention this to my tablemates, because there's a bit of a stigma attached to the place, in part because it's really just terrible, and in part because my favorite podcaster referred to it as a place to make a few extra bucks giving favors in the bathroom. He was joking. Probably. Maybe.

If you haven't already done so, this is the point you're probably thinking to yourself, "why am I reading this?" Hey, it's your life. You do you.

After dinner, we go our separate ways. I hop across the street and catch the 10:30 fountain show (Billie Jean), then head over to Caesars with two goals: visit the dismal subterranean bathrooms I've heard people rant about, and churn through today's 25 TR points.

The lobby, as always, is gorgeous.
Caesar really should have stayed here.
I decide to earn my TR points with video poker, and it goes slowly, and badly. Down $55 with only 10 points earned, I bail out and look for a slot machine. I'm looking for something bright, loud, and ridiculous. The Mariah Carey slot machine calls out to me. Like Mariah, it just sits there singing recorded music and doesn't move. I drop $20 in. And then another $20. And then a third $20. Bonus, bonus, bonus! The bonus round free spins take a while, which is always a good thing. I hit my 25 points, and walk away ahead $35. I'm so relieved, I forget to visit Caesars' dungeon bathrooms. Next time.

"Honey! We got meth money!"
I mosey further up the strip, snap a photo of the skeevy Buck, Winnie, and Chip statue at Harrah's, and find myself at Casino Royale with a bunch of drunk millennials playing bubble craps. As I told IndyJeff the next day, two advantages to bubble craps are that you can bet the dark side with hardly anyone noticing, and you can make bets that pay of in fractions of dollars. The disadvantage to bubble craps is you can make the stupid bets you'd never make at a real table, because nobody will see you. Case in point: I bought in for $40, was down to $10, made it back up to $39.88, and decided to bet $1 on the field. If I win, I'm ahead, and I cash out. I lose, so I bet $2. That loses; $4 bet. That loses, $8 bet. I've got $24.88 left. Fine. Bet $24 on the field. It wins. Whew. I'd never do that on a real table.

Further north, I cross the street and head into TI. I'm too tired to play video poker correctly, so instead decide to give The Goonies a few bucks. Exhausted, I walk back to Luxor, ignoring a few more hookers, and fall asleep immediately.

Monday:

10:00 AM, I slowly wake up thinking about my plans for the day. Things I need to do: I still have $20 in Luxor freeplay to use, I need to visit Cosmopolitan because I still have a $55 ticket from the day before, I need to churn through 25 TR points, and I've got dinner plans at Peppermill. I'm doing the math and scheduling on this, and still bleary-eyed, at about 10:30 I grab my phone and see this:


I leap out of bed, fire off a reply tweet, and realize my plans are out the window. I'd earlier used the hashtag #AllVegasPlansAreInPencil; Tim said #AllVegasPlansAreTentative. Same thing. A quick shower, dressed, and I'm in a Lyft to TopGolf.

The targets we're allegedly supposed to "aim" for.
Nice form, Charles!

I'm not sure who goes to TopGolf to hang out
in the pools, but that's apparently a thing.
Pretzels, cheeses, meats, sausage,
apples, nuts, melted cheese product.
We play for around 90 minutes, and as it's still early in the day for me, I'm being a good person and order an orange juice and pretzel platter. It turned out the $50 food and entertainment credit can be used here as well, so I charge my part of the bill to my room. Cha-ching!

Four of us take turns whacking golf balls off the deck, allegedly aiming for targets but more or less just hitting the balls in the general direction of the targets. A few long shots brush up against the netting on the right hand side of the course. "They just want to go to Ellis Island," I suggest.

All my pitied little ponies.
After golf, I explore TopGolf a little more, pass on the $90 shirts in the gift shop, and then mosey over to MGM. Maybe I'll be able to use my freeplay there. The line at the players club is long, so I figure I'll head across the street to NYNY instead. On the way, I check out the Sigma Derby table. The horses are dead.

I stop by the NYNY players club desk. Sorry, the freeplay can only be used at Luxor. That's kinda what I expected, so I'll need to remember to use it tonight. I check out the face-up pai gow tables: $15 limits at 1:30 on a Monday afternoon. Too rich for my blood. Maybe the Park MGM table's cheaper? Nope, it's also $15. I've got a 8¢ ticket from Park MGM that I didn't cash in on my last trip. I place it and another $20 in a slot machine, and I'm soon down $20.08.

I'd heard rumors of a new hidden bar at Cosmopolitan: Ghost Donkey. my sources told me where to find it, so I checked it out. I didn't get anything -- it's not the kind of joint you'd hang out solo -- but it's a neat, intimate space for decompressing and eating something from the food court right outside. In photos, here's how to find it, along with a couple of menu shots. I didn't photograph the extensive mezcal list inside.

So yeah, now I know where it is, but I'm not sure if I'll make an opportunity to go back.

Chandelier is much more my style, which is where I head next to drink some tasty citrusy drinks, play some video poker, and have my spare Bond ticket rejected when I try and use it for a drink upgrade. Ah well.

Across the street to Planet Hollywood, I burn through $60 to get my 25 points for the day. Those Wheel of Fortune machines are just evil. I make back the $60 at Cromwell on their full pay video poker machines, and at around 5 PM, hop into a Lyft to the north strip. I want a better look at the new Resorts World construction before dark, and I'm feeling like playing some video keno. I know nothing about the game, but the Wizard of Odds keno survey site says Encore has the best in town.

I lose $10 on keno, and a lot more on slots. With time to burn, I walk slowly northward towards Peppermill, checking out the 3-for-$10 t-shirt shops, the strip mall, and the people raving about Tacos El Gordo. It looks like a second location is opening just a few doors north of the existing location; staff inside appeared to be in a training class.

I get into Peppermill about 20 minutes early, but Greg and Michelle show up shortly thereafter. IndyJeff appears a few minutes later. We grab a table for six, expecting two more, but #AllVegasPlansAreTentative. They arrive late and head into the lounge instead. The chicken parmesan was mediocre. I should've ordered breakfast food: twice as good at half the price.

Slots-A-Fun bowling.
Greg and I had the same idea! We invited IndyJeff to join us after dinner at Slots-A-Fun; he admits he'd just come from there, and to paraphrase him, "It makes dens of sadness look a lot less sad."

Slots-A-Fun is larger than I remembered. It has some tiny bowling lane things. It is indeed sad. And... here's the moment you've been waiting for... I used the men's room. It was cleaner than a gas station, well lit, with stalls on the right and urinals on the left. All three sinks work. Paper towels were adequate. Theming is Park MGM: beige, dull, functional. The guy in the stall nearest the door didn't offer us any deals, instead choosing to keep to himself. I respect that.

We got out of there quickly, but then I turned to Greg and Michelle and asked, only somewhat rhetorically, "So that was a bad decision. Circus Circus is next door. How about more bad decisions?" How could he refuse?

Caution: Slots-A-Fun men's room ahead.
(That carpet, though!)
I point out the Sarno blocks on the way in, and admit that the Sarno blocks there and in front of Caesars Palace are about all I remember about Jay Sarno, despite having read Dr. Dave's Grandissimo two years ago.

We look around a little, dodge some kids running through, and discover an escalator near the middle of the casino, headed up to an uncertain destination. "Is this like the one at The D, where you can only go one way, and then have to figure your way out?", asks Greg. Seems like a bad choice. Let's go up.

We're on the carnival level, what I refer to as the kids' casino. Greg is enamored with the camel races. I'm fascinated by the coin-pusher games with themes that appeal to kids: Willy Wonka, Elvis, Wheel of Fortune. It's just kinda the wrong amount of wrong up here.

We see the trapeze net in the center, and walk closer to take a look. Next show, 9:30, "Diabolo!". It's 9:05. Should we wait for the show? Seems like a bad choice. So what should we do until then?

The carousel of bad choices
I have an idea. "You know in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, the scene where Gonzo is on the carousel playing the slot machines? That was filmed somewhere here, right?" (No, it wasn't, and I'm remembering the scene wrong. Shut up.) We spot the carousel with slots, and decide it would be a bad choice to play there. Michelle points out the stairs, and we head down.

Greg plays "Mystical Unicorns", and loses his buy in quickly when the unicorns realize he's a dude and won't pay out. I play a Sherwood Forest-themed game next to it while Michelle hides from us on the other side, playing who knows what. "Bonus, bonus, mother...um" I yell, realizing there's kids around. That's no way to gamble. A few minutes later, though, I hit a bonus, get 8 free spins, 7 of which pay nothing. Lame. I still manage to cash out for $1.40 more than I bought in for. Take that, Circus Circus.


No, this isn't gambling, kids! The Oompa Loompas and
Elvis would never let you do that!




Back on the carnival level, we grab our seats for the 9:30 show. The diabolo is kind of an Argentinian yo-yo, I think, a bobbin spun on a length of rope. This Wikipedia article implies it take a lot more skill than it looks. Still, the performance is short and un-engaging. I want an immersive experience, dagnabbit! Amusingly, the house band for the show consists of a drummer and a person operating a recording of Welcome to the Jungle.

Diabolo! A random person on the internet
said he does the same performance at
Opium, so that means this is impressive.
The diabolo performance ends, the emcee cautions us to stay off the stage during the intermission, and then... nothing? Nothing. The show was 5 minutes long, and the "intermission" is the 25 minute gap between shows. Next up at 10 PM: Chinese parasol foot juggling. Time to leave.

Out in front of Circus Circus, my last night in Vegas for the trip, I ponder: are there any more bad choices I could make? I could head back to Chandelier, and play video poker for a couple more hours. Or is there something else.

"We're headed back to El Cortez,"Greg says. "Darren says he's playing craps there." Count me in. I catch a ride with their Uber, and on the way in, Greg notices the neon sign above the ElCo's Fremont Street entrance: Floor Shows. "I don't remember any floor show," he says. "You just haven't been paying attention," I respond. We head inside, Michelle retires to her room, and I grab a spot next to the craps table stickman, Cody, with Darren on the other side.

The game goes poorly. The crew is making mistakes, and the boxman is ripping them a new one, especially the stickman. "Cody," says the boxman, "What's 17 minus 6. It's not 11, is it Cody? Cody, what was your best subject in school. It wasn't math. Was it history? Gym? Home ec? What was it Cody? Are you good at cooking? I could get you a job in the kitchen. Are you good at writing essays, Cody?" Wow. I cash out ahead $5. Greg, who'd been standing back watching, pointed out that there's also been a commotion deeper into the casino. "You were right, Travis. There is a floor show."

I say goodbye to Greg and Darren, knowing we'll remember this night for at least the next few days. Feeling full of Vegasy snarky bad choice karma, I decide I want to play some final video poker at Main Street Station. I get distracted by a slot machine at Golden Gate, then decide to play at Plaza instead; I don't feel like the walk on Main Street to MSS is a fun idea this time of night. As my VP buy in is dwindling down, I'm startled by the face and a timid voice over my left shoulder. "Sir, can you help me with any money..." No, sorry. She begs from a few more people around me and then leaves. Oh, Vegas.

I catch a Lyft back to Luxor just after midnight.

Epilogue:

Travels home the next morning are uneventful. I realize too late that I never used the $20 freeplay that Luxor offered, but unlike my last stay at Aria, I did remember to use the $50 food and entertainment comp. Total Rewards says I had five consecutive days of 25-credit play, which earned me 90 bonus tier credits. This leaves 4000 more credits to earn before the end of the year to hit Platinum. What a waste of time.

My gambling log indicates that on a daily basis, this was one of my best trips ever, with a daily average loss of around $25. I certainly got more than $25 a day of fun out of it. Heck, I probably got more than $25 a day in free drinks, and isn't that what Vegas is all about? I love this town, the Vegas nerds, and the one special time of year we get together to celebrate making bad choices.

(Late edits: spelled Michelle right; Park MGM isn't next door to Luxor; punctuation fixes; added Sam Boyd's Treasure Chest fail; Plaza poker machines were moved, not downgraded)
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