As someone familiar with e(lectrical) tape, duct tape and gaffer's tape, I think the e-tape's residue would be the least destructive to the car's finish considering the heat of Vegas in July. But yes, Rapini, bungee cords are best and everyone should keep a few in their trunk for those "just-in-case" moments.

Lovin' the story, doc!

He hasn't yet begun to roll. I'm gonna need a lil help in detailing his exploits; but, there was a guy that posted in sslhe that said he was at the table with Matt. Hopefully, he'll be able to recount a few hands.

I'll attend to the flipament story in the next segment.

And I almost forgot... A couple of friends and I dropped in for dinner so I'll have a few words 'bout that, too.

There was also a bald-headed dude that took the nine seat in our drunken mixed game on Saturday night. If you're reading this, I just want you to know that I'm not finished with you yet- despite having felted your sorry ass.

I might be wrong sinse I didn´t research, but the metaphor is pretty Nabokovesque except for the fact that you didn´t personify the suitcase into the exploding supanova mentioned before or made a reference to that earlier part.

If you don´t know Nabokov I´d unlike many others suggest to start out by reading "The real life of Sebastian Knight" which is his first english novel and matches your style in several ways. I think you would enjoy.

Or just leave the charity clothing on the road. I mean the poor will still find it right?

Oh, this is a good one! I can hardly believe that I wasn't paying attention enough to realize that it was a leo doc TR.

The pic of the taped-up trunk is priceless.

We can guess.

Thanks for writing Doc, a good read as always.

Incidentally, you win the award for "2+2'er I'd most like to have a beer with". One of these years I'll have to make it back to Vegas for the meetup.

Electrical tape or Gorilla tape were my options, electrical being the less destructive for sure (i imagine).

Also the electrical tape on the trunk also ties in nicely with the electrical tape holding my iPhone charger together, so it makes the acr look more rounded imo

I have a wife that can smell a lie a mile off, had I done so, I might be amongst those homeless fighting over the clothes.

Howard, you have an open one free ride pass round the Orleans parking lot next time you're in town, so you too can feel the shame of a car held together with electrical tape.

Makes infinitely more sense now! Well played.

You would then refer to one as "the wife" and the other as "the old boot"

Epic thread for an epic weekend.

Here's a sneak peek at something that happened.

Can't wait! This has been a great ride so far. Put me down on the I-owe-leodoc-a-beer-one-day list, to thank you for all the entertainment you've shared via TR.

Bumping this thread to get it back on page 1. Leo anytime you are ready to continue

Thank you, friend. I'll oblige by doing so.

It’s always nice when a plan comes together…

I awoke Saturday morning feeling pretty damn good considering that a) my body was still on CDT and b) I didn’t have the slightest remnant of a hangover. It occurs to me now that the In-N-Out "Double-Double" does double duty. Not only does it satiate your midnight food craving, it’s also excellent hangover prophylaxis. (Consider this the newest leo doc travel tip of the month.)

I briefly contemplated shaking the wife’s shoulder- Italian foreplay- before crawling out of bed. However, I dismissed the notion fearing that the flight to Vegas may have triggered “you-know-what” and she’d wake up in a surly mood and the only “job” I’d get would be to make sure that her coffee was delivered at 11:00, some four hours hence. Instead, I opted to shower and head over to the B to prey on the too-tired, too-drunk remnants of Friday night’s 15 or 30 games. I even managed to complete my morning rituals and exit the room without disturbing her.

So far, so good. Right?

Well, it was good, right up to the moment that I ventured upon that lil sign explaining that the tram was closed for “scheduled maintenance.” While minor inconveniences are to be expected on any trip, I don’t think being lied to by a bellhop is something any of us should have to endure.

To wit:

Me (approaching said bellhop): “The tram’s down for maintenance. What’s the best way to get to the Bellagio? Take a cab?”

Him: “No dude, just walk. It’s right over there.” He makes an arcing motion with his index finger while pointing over the roof of the Aria, and then says, “It’s the building right beside us. Just follow the sidewalk to the street, turn left and go next door.”

Me: “You sure? I mean I could just take a taxi if it’s gonna be a long walk.”

Him: “Seriously dude, don’t waste your money.”

(Note to self: Don’t trust anybody that calls you “dude” twice in the same conversation.)

At about the halfway point- something I realized only after I got to the Bellagio- I’m weighing the relative merits of continuing my walkabout versus returning to the Aria where I can lop off the index finger of that prevaricating bastard masquerading as a bellhop to an unsuspecting public. For crissake, “wasting” my money on a cab would have been infinitely better than trudging up and down 983 stairs, crossing some number of catwalks, and then trying to figure out if I should proceed thru some make-shift wooden tunnel populated by three panhandling vagrants whose aroma wafted thru the 90+ degree air and hung in that tunnel like fog on **** in the summertime.

Have I even mentioned that I’m not particularly fond of walking? Sunday’s Las Vegas Sun’s headline of “ER Doc Maims Aria Bellhop: Motive Sought” were averted when I decided to continue after seeing a Bellagio limo turn into their driveway about 75 yards distant.

About ten minutes later, I arrived at the B’s poker room. It’s fortunate for me that there were lists for the 15 and 30 games ‘cause I was hot, irritated and already on full-blown tilt without having played a single hand so I just went back to the Aria to await jesse’s and Captain R’s arrival. Anybody wanna hazard a guess as to how I got there?

Shortly after noon, our fun bunch is re-united in the Aria’s lobby. Jesse has brought along his girlfriend and the Cap’n is accompanied by HammerinHank. I’m pleased to report that Hank and jesse’s gf, in addition to Mint, are now official members of the fun bunch consisting of Doug, jesse, the Cap’n and yours truly. We agreed to rendezvous at the poker room shortly before 1:00, thereby giving them time to check-in and giving me time to collect Matt before the lot of us went to the party/flipament.

I called Matt and, not surprisingly, he was already seated in the 4/8 so I told him we’d just pick him up when we got there. I had another “proud stepdad moment” when I found him sitting behind about three and a half racks and playing four-handed in a game that was breaking.

Me: “Looks like you did all right. You buy-in for two?”

Him: “Yup.” He continues. “I like this live poker. I really think these 4/8 guys get confused when the game gets short, tho. I won almost every hand that I 3-bet pf with- even when I had air- ‘cause they’d just fold the flop or the turn if they didn’t get a piece of it. Does that happen in your games?”

Me (sadly): “Not usually. You prolly otta wait ‘til next year before sitting in the 30 at the B, tho.”

Him: “Yeah, you’re probably right. I gotta build my roll first.”

And he got a start on doing just that in the flipament.

I made Matt pay for half of his flipament buy-in- something he did without the slightest qualm. At the time, I thought his lack of an objection was occasioned by his winning at the table with money that I had staked him. Nope. Turns out that his Momma had demonstrated uncharacteristic largess by giving him an additional four fun tix while I was getting my annual exercise earlier that morning. I also explained that I expected half of his winnings to which he replied, “I’m down with that.”

After registering, I noticed that our assigned seats were adjoining. Even though some very smart posters in the sslhe forum had earlier convinced me that it made no statistical difference where we sat, I opted to request a table change since I didn’t wanna have that, “I hear Matt busted you in the first round of the flipament” conversation with the wife. And I got my wish, too. I busted the first hand, but Matt didn’t do it.

Truth-to-tell, I was a lil disappointed that there were only 32 entries. On the plus side, this meant that this HU tunamelt was gonna play out rather quickly- going from 32 to 16, then 8, 4, 2, then “Winnar.” I didn’t notice that the final four places paid until I found Matt very much alive at the start of the round of eight. I walked up behind him, gave him a brief shoulder rub as a measure of my full confidence in his newly-found abilities and whispered, “Don’t bust in this bubble round.”

The flop paired his ace, a card he’d go on to receive in every hand he played. The thing I remember most about the semi-finals was that his championship opponent rivered quad nines… a pretty good hand in a HU flipament even if you do it with only a singleton nine in your hole cards. We chatted briefly before the final hand was dealt.

Me: “You nervous?”

Him: “I don’t think so. I just wish my heart would stop beatin’ so fast tho.”

Me: “Not to worry. Everybody’s heart stops beating eventually.” My feeble attempt at humor went unnoticed so I continued. “You could ask that chick if she wants to chop. That way you’d split the top two places.”

Him: “Is that OK?”

Me: “Sure it’s OK… if that’s something you wanna do.”

The hole cards are dealt before he has a chance to respond. To the lad’s credit, he asks her if she wants to chop after peeking at another ace. She’s momentarily confused and looks up, seemingly trying to find guidance from somebody. I have no idea if she ever got a wink or nod from some trusted friend or benefactor. What I do know is that the roar of the crowd destined that this hand would be played. Matt paired his ace on the river; she hit a gut shot wheel, but had already paired the flop.

IIRC, Matt’s take was $1700 and change. I took 8 fun tix and he was adequately rolled for more 4/8 fun.

The fun bunch went on a helicopter ride a few hours later. I hope to post about that tomorrow.

As a young 20-something, I'd hope he's not at the age for hookers and blow and I assume he already has a car. Pretty good start for his roll though, IMO.