robbiehood
robbiehood
Joined: Dec 7, 2009
  • Threads: 13
  • Posts: 65
August 21st, 2014 at 4:42:18 PM permalink
Just a few observations about an attempt to surprise my wife for Valentine’s Day.

My wife asked me before Thanksgiving what I wanted for Christmas. I requested that she travel with me to a vibrant, romantic, city of lights for a Valentine’s Day long weekend. She agreed, and until the February 12 ice storm shut down the Southern States, may have thought we were going to travel to a foreign city like Paris, London or Montreal. I made all the travel arrangements. Purchasing tickets to fly a southern route through Atlanta to Las Vegas to avoid menacing winter storms. Called MLife VIP services and booked three nights in a Deelux Fountain View room at the Bellagio Hotel for our thirtieth Valentine’s Day as a couple. “The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men. Gang aft agley”. I have to compliment the people at Delta Airlines for getting us on an early flight to LAS on February 13 and the people at the Bellagio for holding our room and extending our reservation after the ice storm shut down most of the fights flying out of the South.

MY wife and I enjoyed our stay at the hotel. The view from the room, overlooking the fountains, the Paris Hotel and the new High Roller wheel was magnificent and possibly inspiring in many ways. I booked a fountain view table, next to giant windows in a French restaurant for our Valentine’s dinner. The food was delicious. The staff attentive. All was well.

We stayed and played primarily at the Bellagio. I enjoyed a few hours playing classic rules Blackjack. My wife enjoyed playing various video poker and silly named slots. We walked over to the Palazzo and ate brunch at Bouchon one morning, returning to read at the pool complex for most of the day. Traveled Downtown and then to the Erotic Heritage Museum the next morning. While Downtown we ate breakfast at Dupree’s and then gambled on the vintage floor in the D. She played for a couple of hours on some of the nickel games that Mission touted. I only lasted about an hour on the floor because the heavy, acrid smoke was making me cry. I had to get a hand-pay, not for winning a jackpot, but for depositing a c-note in the machine. I guess I would have needed a bucket and a butler to carry $86 of nickels to the change window. Next we walked to the Californian and played some coin drop video poker. Not satisfied with full-pay, she gravitated to the main floor and found a multi-hand Deuces Wild game next to an open craps table and started to hit some hands. Bored and feeling ill from the smell of smoke I suggested that we start heading back to the Strip. My wife instantly, vehemently, told me to not disturb her. She looked at that moment like Medusa. Buying in at the crap table next to her, I noticed that my bank roll was getting thin and realized that I was bankrolling all my wife’s play with c-notes and, win or lose, not getting any money back. The crew at the craps table were in a chippy mood, in part, because their shift was ending. I tried to match snide comment with snide comment but was out numbered. I surrendered to the cross table insults, laughing at some of acerbic personalized comments, symptomatic of Stockholm Syndrome. I didn’t know, or forgot, that the Cal only offers 2x odds. However, I was informed that if I played $10 on the pass line I could get 2.5x odds. I think I was played. Anyway, placing 6, 8, 5, 9 and buying the 4 and ten, I rolled six or seven pass line bets in a row with lots of numbers using the “snake eye” set that my adolescent son discovered on my dining room table. After tipping the crew, I was able to recover some of my bank roll. The crude complimented me on my roll. The snakes on my wife’s head had disappeared by this time. She was able to take several pictures of winning hands to send to friends. She cashed out ahead but refused to give me back the c-note from my bankroll and pretty much told me to “stick my courage to the screwing place”.

Valentine’s Day at the Bellagio was fun and romantic. It certainly came with a price that matched its value. My wife pronounced that she enjoyed the trip but wouldn’t want to go back to Las Vegas for another five years. I interpreted this to mean we would have to visit Paris, London or Montreal before traveling to Las Vegas again as a couple. Poor, lonesome me, I will have to continue to make bachelor trips to Las Vegas for the next five years.

Sarge and I have planned another trip to Las Vegas, arriving on Friday. Sarge is bringing his high school sweetheart and I hope he pops the question on the High Roller. He is also suggesting that his sweetheart is a craps natural and should long roll on our Downtown excursion on Monday or Tuesday.
Let down the curtain; The farce is over.

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