.
Jeez, I go to work the next day and find my car. Now I have to get Metro, my favorite organization, to clear the car off of the Stolen Vehicles list and turn the damn thing in and somehow pay for it!
Aargh....
Friday, July 20, 2007
OMG, my ADD is gonna drive me crazy! False car alarm....
.
.
Jeez, I go to work the next day and find my car. Now I have to get Metro, my favorite organization, to clear the car off of the Stolen Vehicles list and turn the damn thing in and somehow pay for it!
Aargh....
.
Jeez, I go to work the next day and find my car. Now I have to get Metro, my favorite organization, to clear the car off of the Stolen Vehicles list and turn the damn thing in and somehow pay for it!
Aargh....
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Vegas Baby screws himself once again
.
Damn, It's Hot
Crap, either his rental car was stolen or they frickin repoed it! How rude is that?
They called twice today while he was at work, going on about how he was only supposed to have it for 3 days- which was a damn lie.
These new cars have those GPS chips n they may have located it that way. Either way it spelled trouble for Vegas Baby- just what he needed.
He searched the parking garage for several hot, stuffy minutes before concluding it was stolen or repoed. So he walked up to the Flamingo bus stop drenched in sweat with the above 100 degree night air.
He caught the gargantuan Deuce, the double Decker bus that ran up and down the Strip. It was full of tourists and whatnot. He eventually worked his way to the upper level, amazed at the coolness of the air conditioning in this behemoth.
He passed his mother's casino where she makes triple his income which late last year inspired him to starve for a year to earn the same. And it looked like he would indeed starve, well, not literally, since he got free food, as employees in all Vegas casinos do.
But no car, having to move behind his casino, which may mean an apt.with hot air conditioning, and other deprivations came to visit him. Like tonight, he was sick earlier at work and felt very fatigued and worn out. So naturally this would be the night he would have no ride home.
He dreaded the last part of the ride home from the Downtown Transportation Center to his ghetto house. The bus went way out of his neighborhood before it swung back to his area which was usually inhabited by a sundry and varied dark denizens of the night, whose nerve-wracking habit of approaching him for money for sexual favors or drugs or just simple pan-handling he didn't look forward to.
He would have to rely on the kindness of his co-workers for rides to his casino or leave 3 hours early to catch the bus or risk failing probation, until he could move into a new hovel with new rude vagaries he'd have to tolerate. Man, becoming a casino maven sure was taking a toll on his person!
He was exhausted and wanted to lay his head down but this buxom babe in front of him might take offense to his proximity. Besides he needed both hands to type this text into his smartphone. Otherwise, how would his readers hear about the plight of Vegas Baby?
The Deuce belched Vegas Baby out onto the dark, heated concrete of the Downtown Transportation Center and he quickly discovered another late night bus route that will take him directly to his hovel, well, a couple of blocks away anyways. And it leaves in only 15 minutes. So he parks himself on a hot brick wall waiting for the 403 Northbound with all sorts of black people around him. One super-short white girl who is at least in her twenties though she is the size of a 12 year old, walks by him carrying a tiny black chihuahua in her arms.
Vegas Baby is getting thirsty and he's sure he's gonna have to wash his sweat-drenched uniform shirt. A guy is sitting on the brick wall with a bottle of red Gatorade only to remind him of his thirst.
The 403 is nowhere to be seen and it's due to depart in 3 mins. Fuck, the last thing he needs is a canceled bus!
Dammit! He misread the route times and he had already missed the last 403 No. Now he has to take the 208 W at 1031 pm which would make him have to walk at least 15 mins.
Crap- he may as well have walked this whole last leg. His head was starting to hurt. What he would give right now for a cold drink of water.
A fat, bearded black man next to him fanned himself vainly with his hand in a pathetic gesture. Vegas Baby was tired and grouchy and just wanted to get home into his cool bed.
He felt guilty about how cool his room was when he barely paid any rent and the landlord asked him to make it warmer because the electric bill was over $300 last month and he thought it would be a great idea to pay a couple hundred more in rent to compensate especially since his rent has been so very low for the past 7 months. Only problem with that bright idea was he couldn't even pay his normal rent this month. In fact, he was over $700 in the hole. He had no idea how he was gonna cover that. His car payment got covered thanks to the charitable contribution of a good friend, who turned out to be a real mensch.
But not so his cc bill or cable or 6 others on his never-ending list. He felt he was really gonna sink this time....
The bus was only 8 minutes late. A homeless guy was on their that he
recognized. He used to own a motor scooter and would come early on 'stew day' to get extra portions, telling Becky, volunteer worker that it was better than sex.
He gave his seat up for an elderly Philippino woman who thanked him and sat down. He could almost taste the cold water sitting in his fridge.
The bus let him off at Washington and D street. Now, to walk the gauntlet, Vegas baby thinks to himself, as he turned the corner to E street....
...............................Vegas Baby's E street shadow...................
He found E Street to be almost deserted, much better than F Street, which he took the other night. Only one soul came near to crossing his path. He took some pics of the desolate neighborhood.
..............................Ye Ole Cycle Shoppe....................
...................................The Compound at Night..........................
He finally came to the Compound relieved at how fast and uneventful the walk was.
When he got home and fired up his computer he found out that there were more fraudulent transactions that got to his bank account via Second Life. Another fucking $500 + with $198 more in overlimit fees! Omg, when does it ever end?
Then after the police representative came over the next morning and took his stolen car report, he realized that he had canceled his car insurance policy when he found out his car was dead, forgetting that the car rental was covered by this policy....
Vegas Baby sure managed to screw himself this time....
Damn, It's Hot
Crap, either his rental car was stolen or they frickin repoed it! How rude is that?
They called twice today while he was at work, going on about how he was only supposed to have it for 3 days- which was a damn lie.
These new cars have those GPS chips n they may have located it that way. Either way it spelled trouble for Vegas Baby- just what he needed.
He searched the parking garage for several hot, stuffy minutes before concluding it was stolen or repoed. So he walked up to the Flamingo bus stop drenched in sweat with the above 100 degree night air.
He caught the gargantuan Deuce, the double Decker bus that ran up and down the Strip. It was full of tourists and whatnot. He eventually worked his way to the upper level, amazed at the coolness of the air conditioning in this behemoth.
He passed his mother's casino where she makes triple his income which late last year inspired him to starve for a year to earn the same. And it looked like he would indeed starve, well, not literally, since he got free food, as employees in all Vegas casinos do.
But no car, having to move behind his casino, which may mean an apt.with hot air conditioning, and other deprivations came to visit him. Like tonight, he was sick earlier at work and felt very fatigued and worn out. So naturally this would be the night he would have no ride home.
He dreaded the last part of the ride home from the Downtown Transportation Center to his ghetto house. The bus went way out of his neighborhood before it swung back to his area which was usually inhabited by a sundry and varied dark denizens of the night, whose nerve-wracking habit of approaching him for money for sexual favors or drugs or just simple pan-handling he didn't look forward to.
He would have to rely on the kindness of his co-workers for rides to his casino or leave 3 hours early to catch the bus or risk failing probation, until he could move into a new hovel with new rude vagaries he'd have to tolerate. Man, becoming a casino maven sure was taking a toll on his person!
He was exhausted and wanted to lay his head down but this buxom babe in front of him might take offense to his proximity. Besides he needed both hands to type this text into his smartphone. Otherwise, how would his readers hear about the plight of Vegas Baby?
The Deuce belched Vegas Baby out onto the dark, heated concrete of the Downtown Transportation Center and he quickly discovered another late night bus route that will take him directly to his hovel, well, a couple of blocks away anyways. And it leaves in only 15 minutes. So he parks himself on a hot brick wall waiting for the 403 Northbound with all sorts of black people around him. One super-short white girl who is at least in her twenties though she is the size of a 12 year old, walks by him carrying a tiny black chihuahua in her arms.
Vegas Baby is getting thirsty and he's sure he's gonna have to wash his sweat-drenched uniform shirt. A guy is sitting on the brick wall with a bottle of red Gatorade only to remind him of his thirst.
The 403 is nowhere to be seen and it's due to depart in 3 mins. Fuck, the last thing he needs is a canceled bus!
Dammit! He misread the route times and he had already missed the last 403 No. Now he has to take the 208 W at 1031 pm which would make him have to walk at least 15 mins.
Crap- he may as well have walked this whole last leg. His head was starting to hurt. What he would give right now for a cold drink of water.
A fat, bearded black man next to him fanned himself vainly with his hand in a pathetic gesture. Vegas Baby was tired and grouchy and just wanted to get home into his cool bed.
He felt guilty about how cool his room was when he barely paid any rent and the landlord asked him to make it warmer because the electric bill was over $300 last month and he thought it would be a great idea to pay a couple hundred more in rent to compensate especially since his rent has been so very low for the past 7 months. Only problem with that bright idea was he couldn't even pay his normal rent this month. In fact, he was over $700 in the hole. He had no idea how he was gonna cover that. His car payment got covered thanks to the charitable contribution of a good friend, who turned out to be a real mensch.
But not so his cc bill or cable or 6 others on his never-ending list. He felt he was really gonna sink this time....
The bus was only 8 minutes late. A homeless guy was on their that he
recognized. He used to own a motor scooter and would come early on 'stew day' to get extra portions, telling Becky, volunteer worker that it was better than sex.
He gave his seat up for an elderly Philippino woman who thanked him and sat down. He could almost taste the cold water sitting in his fridge.
The bus let him off at Washington and D street. Now, to walk the gauntlet, Vegas baby thinks to himself, as he turned the corner to E street....
...............................Vegas Baby's E street shadow...................
He found E Street to be almost deserted, much better than F Street, which he took the other night. Only one soul came near to crossing his path. He took some pics of the desolate neighborhood.
..............................Ye Ole Cycle Shoppe....................
...................................The Compound at Night..........................
He finally came to the Compound relieved at how fast and uneventful the walk was.
When he got home and fired up his computer he found out that there were more fraudulent transactions that got to his bank account via Second Life. Another fucking $500 + with $198 more in overlimit fees! Omg, when does it ever end?
Then after the police representative came over the next morning and took his stolen car report, he realized that he had canceled his car insurance policy when he found out his car was dead, forgetting that the car rental was covered by this policy....
Vegas Baby sure managed to screw himself this time....
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Advice from Vegas Mom
.
For all you prospective dealers out there. Take it from mom, a dealer with 30+ years experience. She opened the Treasure Island, Bellagio, and the super-posh casino, the Manhattan (pseudonym).
She was earning triple my income last summer when she told me that I needed to get a better job.
Here she is in a voicemail.
What's funny is, I was just thinking the day before she gave me this advice, under what circumstances should I alert my supervisor when I've done one of my many (often ADD-induced) errors.... And believe me, there are many- I could really use my ADD medicine....
For all you prospective dealers out there. Take it from mom, a dealer with 30+ years experience. She opened the Treasure Island, Bellagio, and the super-posh casino, the Manhattan (pseudonym).
She was earning triple my income last summer when she told me that I needed to get a better job.
Here she is in a voicemail.
"Hey,this is your mom. I'm gonna tell you how to keep your job. When you make a mistake at the table, don't fix it yourself, always call the floor. It's an important thing to remember. So that way you're off the hook.
"I know sometimes when you make too many mistakes you don't want to call them over every time, but you just have to do it. So that way no one can say anything bad about you."
What's funny is, I was just thinking the day before she gave me this advice, under what circumstances should I alert my supervisor when I've done one of my many (often ADD-induced) errors.... And believe me, there are many- I could really use my ADD medicine....
Thursday, July 12, 2007
The Tattoed Princess Dealer
.
Next, is the Longhorn Casino, home of the only dollar blackjack table in Vegas. Used to be lots of houses that featured dollar tables- hell, the Sahara used to have 7 tables every night of the week just 4 yrs ago. But that is a thing of the past now.
So, in the quaint Longhorn Casino , I secretly evaluate the dealers on the $1 BJ table. And I think to myself, this one will make it... or, oh no, this one will never cut the mustard.... And who comes to deal at my table? Jessica, the quixotic tattooed Princess dealer.
She has these awesome tattoos on her arms, mostly on her left arm with an interesting Asian caricature on the inside of her right forearm.... Very interesting, indeed. After she dealt only 2 hands, I piped up, “Honey, you're in the wrong place...”
She looked at me briefly and continued to deal lightning fast.... Eventually we had a good chat going on. She had only been working there for 5 days. She actually worked for 5 years at the very casino I work in and knew one of my big bosses. Folks, Vegas is a small town if you've been there for more than 5 years.
Jessica took this job at the flea-bitten Longhorn casino after taking a year off to party. Hence, she was concerned that she couldn't pass the chemical substance test. She did, while applying at this rinky-dink casino.
After watching her skills and surmising what she must be making in tips, about 1/3 of what she made at the Imperial Princess and hearing that she also taught table games at the Las Vegas Professional Gaming Academy, I told her to just walk out of this joint. She wouldn't have enough time to find a good dealing job wasting her precious hours at this dive. She mentioned that she was afraid to go to her car at night when she got off and judging by her reaction when I told her to have Security walk her to the car I repeated my suggestion that she leave this job.
I don't know if anything I said was helpful to her but one day I hope to see her dealing at a posh Strip casino. I suppose it will have to be a house that has long sleeved uniforms like we do at the Imperial Princess to cover her quixotic tattoos.
So, here's the Vegas Baby's shout-out to the uber sharp dealer, Jessica: Hey there, girl, you're too hot a dealer to swim with the goldfish, get over here into the shark tank! Believe. Walk tall. And never look back.
Next, is the Longhorn Casino, home of the only dollar blackjack table in Vegas. Used to be lots of houses that featured dollar tables- hell, the Sahara used to have 7 tables every night of the week just 4 yrs ago. But that is a thing of the past now.
So, in the quaint Longhorn Casino , I secretly evaluate the dealers on the $1 BJ table. And I think to myself, this one will make it... or, oh no, this one will never cut the mustard.... And who comes to deal at my table? Jessica, the quixotic tattooed Princess dealer.
She has these awesome tattoos on her arms, mostly on her left arm with an interesting Asian caricature on the inside of her right forearm.... Very interesting, indeed. After she dealt only 2 hands, I piped up, “Honey, you're in the wrong place...”
She looked at me briefly and continued to deal lightning fast.... Eventually we had a good chat going on. She had only been working there for 5 days. She actually worked for 5 years at the very casino I work in and knew one of my big bosses. Folks, Vegas is a small town if you've been there for more than 5 years.
Jessica took this job at the flea-bitten Longhorn casino after taking a year off to party. Hence, she was concerned that she couldn't pass the chemical substance test. She did, while applying at this rinky-dink casino.
After watching her skills and surmising what she must be making in tips, about 1/3 of what she made at the Imperial Princess and hearing that she also taught table games at the Las Vegas Professional Gaming Academy, I told her to just walk out of this joint. She wouldn't have enough time to find a good dealing job wasting her precious hours at this dive. She mentioned that she was afraid to go to her car at night when she got off and judging by her reaction when I told her to have Security walk her to the car I repeated my suggestion that she leave this job.
I don't know if anything I said was helpful to her but one day I hope to see her dealing at a posh Strip casino. I suppose it will have to be a house that has long sleeved uniforms like we do at the Imperial Princess to cover her quixotic tattoos.
So, here's the Vegas Baby's shout-out to the uber sharp dealer, Jessica: Hey there, girl, you're too hot a dealer to swim with the goldfish, get over here into the shark tank! Believe. Walk tall. And never look back.
Feeling the pain, realizing the hope
When last I dealt in a casino I was also without a car for a few months. It was miserable.
I lived on W. Charleston and got off at 4 am. The Strip bus stopped running at 2 am until 5 am. I often got off at 2 and would be so tired and hot with no place to go for hours.
The Sierra Circle casino had no breakroom where I could nap or at least hang out.
This time I hope to have a better go at it. I suppose I have to try to move into the dingy-ass apartments behind the Imperial Princess.
*************************************************
So, my Friday is over. I've decided to turn in the rental tomorrow after I renew my driver's license- I really couldn't afford to keep it this long.
Now , I'm feeling it, folks....
I'm broke as hell, I got bills up the ying yang that I can't pay for for the first time since beginning this casino venture. Three weeks ago I spent the last of my savings for the car repair- 14 fucking hundred dollars on my lovely Cadillac which I cannot drive or repair. All I can do with that car is pay off the $5400 I owe on it at 29% interest.
Sigh... It sucks to be poor, folks.
I feel deflated. My neck twitch is all up and running strong, makes me look like an idiot, I'm sure.
But I'm not despondent. I'm hurting that's for sure, but I see a very strong light at the end of this tunnel. It's called a posh dealing job. If I can manage to pass probation and learn pai gow poker and strengthen my roulette I know I can win a position at the Golden Nugget or the MGM Grand and that's without my mother's juice. With it... who knows?
So, it's July- 6 months will be January, then I truly have the chance to make over $60,000/yr! And this is no pipe dream, dealers are doing it EVERY DAY here in Vegas. I got 18 months experience and just have to get the rust out of my roulette and 21 game and pick up pai gow- learning craps would help lot but I don't think I can wrap my ADD brain around that game- hell, I can't even play it. But I got all t ingredients to truly be a dealer extraordinaire. And I aim to do it! Like I told my international lover the other day- nothing is going to stop me.
So, I am screwed on a car loan I gotta repay though I can't drive or repair it- so what?
I mean, what would you do for $60,000/yr? Hell, I would shovel chicken shit for that- Man,I would separate the colors for that much! And what do I have to do for that income? Sleep with the casino manager? Kill someone?
All I gotta do is learn my games, be teachable, be proactive, keep my nose clean and sort of play a game with my customers and make them feel good which I LOVE to do and am good at! And that is all for only 40 hrs/ wk. I don't have to work 60 hrs/wk, don't have to take my job home and be on my computer for 3 hrs/night like some corporate weenie....
Sometimes when I think about it, I feel like I'm cheating somehow.
But t thing is, dealers are doing it by the hundreds EVERY DAY in Vegas.
"Psst, hey buddy! Wanna triple your income?"
I lived on W. Charleston and got off at 4 am. The Strip bus stopped running at 2 am until 5 am. I often got off at 2 and would be so tired and hot with no place to go for hours.
The Sierra Circle casino had no breakroom where I could nap or at least hang out.
This time I hope to have a better go at it. I suppose I have to try to move into the dingy-ass apartments behind the Imperial Princess.
*************************************************
So, my Friday is over. I've decided to turn in the rental tomorrow after I renew my driver's license- I really couldn't afford to keep it this long.
Now , I'm feeling it, folks....
I'm broke as hell, I got bills up the ying yang that I can't pay for for the first time since beginning this casino venture. Three weeks ago I spent the last of my savings for the car repair- 14 fucking hundred dollars on my lovely Cadillac which I cannot drive or repair. All I can do with that car is pay off the $5400 I owe on it at 29% interest.
Sigh... It sucks to be poor, folks.
I feel deflated. My neck twitch is all up and running strong, makes me look like an idiot, I'm sure.
But I'm not despondent. I'm hurting that's for sure, but I see a very strong light at the end of this tunnel. It's called a posh dealing job. If I can manage to pass probation and learn pai gow poker and strengthen my roulette I know I can win a position at the Golden Nugget or the MGM Grand and that's without my mother's juice. With it... who knows?
So, it's July- 6 months will be January, then I truly have the chance to make over $60,000/yr! And this is no pipe dream, dealers are doing it EVERY DAY here in Vegas. I got 18 months experience and just have to get the rust out of my roulette and 21 game and pick up pai gow- learning craps would help lot but I don't think I can wrap my ADD brain around that game- hell, I can't even play it. But I got all t ingredients to truly be a dealer extraordinaire. And I aim to do it! Like I told my international lover the other day- nothing is going to stop me.
So, I am screwed on a car loan I gotta repay though I can't drive or repair it- so what?
I mean, what would you do for $60,000/yr? Hell, I would shovel chicken shit for that- Man,I would separate the colors for that much! And what do I have to do for that income? Sleep with the casino manager? Kill someone?
All I gotta do is learn my games, be teachable, be proactive, keep my nose clean and sort of play a game with my customers and make them feel good which I LOVE to do and am good at! And that is all for only 40 hrs/ wk. I don't have to work 60 hrs/wk, don't have to take my job home and be on my computer for 3 hrs/night like some corporate weenie....
Sometimes when I think about it, I feel like I'm cheating somehow.
But t thing is, dealers are doing it by the hundreds EVERY DAY in Vegas.
"Psst, hey buddy! Wanna triple your income?"
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Crash On The Freeway
So there I am coming home from work on I-15 and I see a bunch of car's brake lights coming on so I slow down. Then I notice whilst the cars are almost at a stop on the left the right two lanes are still unclogged. So I change lanes and go by the congestion when on my left I see a car has smashed into the first county freeway truck that has the big arrow flashing to go right.
Out of the corner of my eye I see the silhouette of a man on all fours on the shoulder. I pulled over and got out of the car- it looked like he was injured.
I jog about 60 yards to the scene of the accident and find him sitting on the ground with his back resting on the freeway divider with the freeway truck driver and a girl who is crying. I ask him where it hurts and as I wait for his answer I hear the squeal of brakes and turn to see a speeding car that is trying to get out of the far right lane where his smashed car was. The girl starts to run then stops when the car avoids causing another accident. I turn my attention back to the man who has now stood up but hear another squeal of brakes and turn to see a pickup truck narrowly miss his wrecked car by veering onto the shoulder we were standing on.
I shout to the two car occupants to move further down the freeway and I turn to the driver and ask him if he has any flares. He says they are behind the seat of his truck and for me to get them because he is calling 911.
I run to the truck and can't get behind the seat. Two other drivers from two other trucks come walking up slowly and I wave at them to come over and direct them to get the flares. The lead driver looks at me stupidly and I turn and go back to the first driver and tell him to get the flares and I'll call 911.
So, in a couple minutes the flares go up as I try to get the 911 operator not to put me on fucking hold. WTF is that all about? Jesus Christ, this was an accident waiting to happen and you're gonna fucking put me on hold??? FUCK!
So he tells me they are already responding to the first call from the driver so I hang up and take some pics and see the ambulances and fire trucks coming into view. Don't know why five Highway Patrol cars weren't there like they were when they tried to arrest me three days ago.
I turned to the young man and tell him to get a lawyer, that this is bullshit, it's very unsafe. I told him to make sure he and his girl go to the hospital to get checked out.
Then I make my exit. The situation was under control.
Like most ADDers I may not be able to balance a checkbook or keep my room tidy but I am damn good in an emergency.
Out of the corner of my eye I see the silhouette of a man on all fours on the shoulder. I pulled over and got out of the car- it looked like he was injured.
I jog about 60 yards to the scene of the accident and find him sitting on the ground with his back resting on the freeway divider with the freeway truck driver and a girl who is crying. I ask him where it hurts and as I wait for his answer I hear the squeal of brakes and turn to see a speeding car that is trying to get out of the far right lane where his smashed car was. The girl starts to run then stops when the car avoids causing another accident. I turn my attention back to the man who has now stood up but hear another squeal of brakes and turn to see a pickup truck narrowly miss his wrecked car by veering onto the shoulder we were standing on.
I shout to the two car occupants to move further down the freeway and I turn to the driver and ask him if he has any flares. He says they are behind the seat of his truck and for me to get them because he is calling 911.
I run to the truck and can't get behind the seat. Two other drivers from two other trucks come walking up slowly and I wave at them to come over and direct them to get the flares. The lead driver looks at me stupidly and I turn and go back to the first driver and tell him to get the flares and I'll call 911.
So, in a couple minutes the flares go up as I try to get the 911 operator not to put me on fucking hold. WTF is that all about? Jesus Christ, this was an accident waiting to happen and you're gonna fucking put me on hold??? FUCK!
So he tells me they are already responding to the first call from the driver so I hang up and take some pics and see the ambulances and fire trucks coming into view. Don't know why five Highway Patrol cars weren't there like they were when they tried to arrest me three days ago.
I turned to the young man and tell him to get a lawyer, that this is bullshit, it's very unsafe. I told him to make sure he and his girl go to the hospital to get checked out.
Then I make my exit. The situation was under control.
Like most ADDers I may not be able to balance a checkbook or keep my room tidy but I am damn good in an emergency.
Vegas Baby loses his transportation
.
Omg, it's ruined, I should have burned it months ago....
The mechanic said I ruined the engine when it overheated last week. And I need a new engine.... Which of course will be THOUSANDS of dollars.
I owe $5400 on it....
I got $80 in the bank.... and a $320 fricking car pmt coming out of my paycheck this week.
What the hell am I going to do?
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