Oh. My. God. This has to be the best thread I've read in such a long time. Easily 5*. Thank you so much for sharing and I really hope there is more coming.

This story is amazing. I enjoy how you hardly embellish anything and it's still interesting to read. Keep it up.

Great stories! I like your writing style and the subtle hints of self deprecating humor. Enjoy your locals vacation!

This thread is gold. 10/10.
The custom plated on the Hyundai really seal it for me.

lol yeah seeing the license plate on the wrecked car made me burst out laughing. i really have no idea how someone who doesn't drink somehow got his life this messy, but quality thread nonetheless.

Wow, Spike. Great tales. I'm sorry to hear about the misfortunes. Better luck now.

I appreciate that you guys enjoy the stories. Since I've been here, those are the two biggest/baddest/worst stories I have. I suppose I should thank some or all of the deities for that. Erin left right around Christmas 2008. She basically took all the money we had for her move, meaning I had zero dollars to my name to buy a flight home to see my dad for the holidays. That realization hit me while I was at work talking to my boss, and I broke down. I don't mean I shed a single man-tear like we all did at the end of Saving Private Ryan. I mean full-on mental breakdown crying like "Holy **** did I make the biggest mistake of my life by moving here, buying a house, and marrying that dingbat". But knowing how things turned out, and knowing that none of this killed me, I don't think I'd change a thing. It's made me who I am.

I'll do a quick real-time update then talk a bit about the girl I started dating after Erin. Before I get to that, however, I'll quickly tell you about the time Erin nearly went on a murderous rampage.

Erin was Italian. Well, like half Italian, half German/Irish mix. But she grew up in the Italian part of Boston, had that uncle that never seemed to have a job, knew everyone in the state, and always had a ****ton of money that seemed out of place. If she was from New Jersey, she'd have been that typical Sopranos-wanna-be guinea stereotype. Instead, she was obsessed with cooking, especially her lasagna. And, even eight years later, I'll still admit that she was a damn good cook. Could never say a bad thing about anything she made.

Right around the time I moved here, I was posting on another message board (hint: there are stairs in my house). They had a "Meet up" section, so I went over to the Vegas thread. Turns out, there were like 20 of us that moved to Vegas between August 2006 and January 2007. Just really weird that we all managed to get out here from different parts of the country - Boston, Vermont, Virginia, a couple of people from Ohio, Pennsylvania, California (because of ****ing course California), Michigan... Some came for school, some came for jobs, others just came because it's Vegas. (Also, it just so happened that there were like five guys in the group with my same first name, which is how I ended up as Spike). But we all started hanging out and getting to know each other and having regular nights out - home poker/spades games, shooting out in the desert, bowling nights, and cookoffs. It was one of these cookoffs that nearly drove Erin to insanity.

We coordinated a lasagna contest - we'd do a home game (actually, it was a Spades game then, not poker) and have two entries of lasagna. Best one wins. The next month, we'd have two different entries. Best one wins. Third month, we'd have a big cookout with the top two entries, and the best one would win. Erin's dish crushed in the first contest. When she got to the "finals", she was up against a guy who was working on a Master's in archeology at UNLV. She figures this is no sweat. This guy is just getting a random recipe from the internet. No reason to be concerned.

Oops.

Hoooooooooooly ****. His was so much better than hers. It was a night and day difference. He said that he used lamb and had seasoned it like a ****ing champ. It was a unanimous decision. And honestly, I think it broke Erin's brain. She demanded that we leave the party immediately, and went right to bed when we got home. The next day, she was still so mad! Not just at me, but at her competitor! How dare he use lamb! That's not a traditional lasagna ingredient! It's basically cheating! I can't believe I lost! First of all, you "lost" nothing since the prize was a $2 trophy I bought at Party City USA on my way home from work that said "Best Lasag" because I didn't space it out right and couldn't fit the "na" at the end. Second of all, who cares? It's just the guys and no one will think less of you for it. That somehow made her madder. She actually got in her car and started to drive over to the apartment of two brothers from Pennsylvania who were at the party. I was legit worried that she'd kick down the door and start beat the piss out of them, or worse. And she could do it. She was a tough broad - 5'8, angry Italian rage with some muscle. The brothers were two scrawny dudes who studied programming at Penn State. This would not have ended well.

I wish this story had a better, crazier ending, but alas - cooler heads prevailed. She came home, apologized to her ancestors for disgracing the Italians, and we never spoke of that incident again.

Monday, June 20 - the first real day of my vacation

Since I'm the typical Mon-Fri, 8 to 5 schlub, Monday was my first true "vacation" day (as opposed to the regularly scheduled weekends). And, because life in Vegas is always about glitz and glamor, I did what any guy would do: Vacuumed the upstairs and did two loads of laundry. Don't be jealous. I actually have a dentist appointment at 3 so I can't really get a ton of time in at the tables. I'd rather take my time around the house, play some Overwatch, then get on with my day. And that's exactly what I did.

Oh crap, it's like 2 and I haven't eaten anything yet. Time for my favorite non-burger fast food:



And now that I have all that gunk in my teeth, it's time for someone to clean them:



Side note: If anyone works for the dental field - is there any benefit (apart from the cosmetic) of replacing metal fillings with the ceramic white ones? I had a couple of my metal fillings replaced. The fillings were holding up well and had no issues, but they were 30 years old. I got them replaced with ceramic and I had MAJOR sensitivity to cold. Like, I couldn't drink anything cold without wincing. That's a problem in the desert. I had it fixed and it's better but not perfect. I can definitely feel the cold way more than I could with the metal. That's just weird to me.

So it's about 4, and my wife's not due home until about 7. It's time...



Decided to play at the Rio, but not the WSOP. Just the regular Rio room:



... which is apparently now the extended Rio room. They added about a dozen tables to the front and side of the room to handle the excess amount of players. They don't seem to have enough staff to man the tables, but that's another story. I get a seat at 1/3 in pretty short order. And it was just one of those boring, uneventful sessions as far as hands go. However, there were two situations that were very strange and I'd like to hear some feedback on them.

First, the girl to my right. She was talking for about half an hour about her poker-playing boyfriend, and how he's up like $10k from 2/5 and 5/10 in the last 48 hours. He's the "best" and he can read "anyone" and it's like he doesn't need cards and his dick smells like ice cream... okay I may have made up one part of that. But you get the idea. This guy is a poker genius and can do no wrong. Fine.

A couple of hands later, she's on SB and I'm the BB. Her boyfriend comes along and says hello to her. They chat for a quick second and then she turns back to the game. And he stands there. Now, in any room I've ever played at, people aren't typically allowed to hang out behind a player like that (at least, in a tournament setting). I know I've been asked to **** off from tables at other rooms. So the dealer says the action's on me, and I say I'm not entirely comfortable looking at my cards with this dude behind me. It's not a personal thing, just seems weird. Plus, (and this is going to sound Dale Gribble-paranoid) maybe they have signals and signs for each other that they'd try to use to gain an advantage? I don't know, but I don't want to risk it. Both the guy and his girlfriend were completely okay with it to my face, but he gave me a staredown later like it was beneath him to move. Was I wrong here? I don't know.

Like I said, it was a pretty uneventful session. I bought in for $200, brought $150 in chips to the register. It was $145 in red, two of those $2 chips, and a single $1. I'm messing with my phone and about to call my dad when the person at the counter gives me my money. I just pocket it and walk out.

Fast-forward to midnight. The wife's asleep, and I decide it's time to knock another room off my list. I start gathering my stuff. Phone: check. Headphones: check. Wallet: check. Money I cashed out from the Rio: che... wait. Why is there $200 here? Didn't I cash out $150? I thought about it and really tried to reflect... and yup, I definitely brought $150 to the podium. Only thing I can think of is that the employee saw the two $2 chips and thought they were $25 chips. I called a dealer friend of mine and explained the situation. I asked if I should go back and return the $50, and he said no. His reasoning is this: The employee has already counted down their drawer and they're $50 off. So whatever punishment was going to happen, has already happened. Returning the money now just means Caesars would pocket an extra $50, but the employee wouldn't have that mark removed from their record. Keep it. So, I kept it. Still feel bad about it, and I'm definitely open to hearing other thoughts about it (I'm sure this topic was done to death in other treads over time so maybe it's a horrible idea - inviting people to hijack a thread).

I hit the road and decide to try the MGM. I've played at the MGM before, but it's been years. I know they've moved the room since the last time I was there, so I'm curious to see what it's like.

At Tropicana and Lindell, traffic stops for a red light. The light turns green, and we're still not moving. Light cycles through yellow, red, back to green, and still no movement. I'm trying to see what's happening, when I notice construction. Like, a lot of construction. Yikes. This guy went back and forth across the road for about 15 minutes doing whatever it is these vehicles do:



W Tropicana between Decatur and Arville has a lot of ex-wives... excuse me, hookers... walking up and down the street. I tried to get a picture for you guys. One even smiled and waved for me, which I suppose is a better outcome than when Anthony Cumia tried to take the picture of the hooker in Times Square.



I am so goddamn giddy with excitement for the Vegas NHL team, it's kind of obscene. I will also curbstomp the next bastard that says "Vegas doesn't need hockey. Seattle does".

Kinda hard to get a good shot of the MGM from a moving car but you've all seen it before:



The future of Las Vegas - paying for parking:



One thing really bugs me about this: It's not that some places are charging for parking. It's not even that locals aren't exempt from the practice. What bugs me is that not a single other hotel/casino said "We will never do this". Instead, they said "We're monitoring the situation" or "I don't know what the future holds" or "No comment". I have to think Tropicana and Hooters will be the next to have pay-to-park, only because of their proximity to that cluster of MGM properties and the T-Mobile Arena. Caesars or Wynn will follow suit - Caesars because why wouldn't they? And Wynn because he already has publicly said "No one likes being around poor people": http://www.cnbc.com/2016/04/07/steve...or-people.html If he's catering to the rich, the rich can afford $15/day to park.

The set up is pretty simple, which is good. Until December 29, locals can scan the barcode on the back of their Nevada ID and get 24 hours free parking. Everyone else takes a ticket. On the way out to the garage, you have to pay at one of the kiosks, then you get like 15-20 minutes to get to your car and get out. Which is going to make things interesting on event days when it takes significantly longer to leave the arena (unless they just do a flat-fee parking upon entry).

People apparently like golf:



The one thing I've always found weird about golf: The point of golf is to play as little of it as possible.

Couldn't get a great shot of the room:



Honestly, I feel weird about taking pictures of the rooms. Don't get me wrong, I'll still do it. Just not really "me", if that makes sense. The room was far more spacious and comfortable than I remember and I actually like it quite a bit. It was late (nearly 1am by now - took me an hour because of the construction, parking, and walking to the room) so it was pretty sparsely populated, but a few games were going. I take a seat at 1/2 with $200 and fold for about half an hour. I dust off about $50 against a shortstack with KsQx on QJ46sssx when the river bricks and he shows KK. Then, the drunk sits down. The "I'm up like $5k this trip so let's gamble!" guy. He's opening random pots to $18 and I'm not entirely convinced he's looking at his cards. He's three-betting people and getting to showdown with like 84o. Oh please, please let me get a good hand against him.

He's yucking it up and dusted off a buy-in, and it's my BB. He announces "$20 and I'm not looking until the flop". Interesting. It folds around to me and I see QTo. I decide to call and just float, see what happens. Flop comes KJ8ddh. I bet $20. He looks at his hand raises to $75. I pause and think about it for a moment, and for some reason I don't buy it. I just don't. I go all in. He says "Well, I read my hand wrong but I'm committed. I call" and shows 63hh. Two unders and a backdoor flush draw, and he decided to dust off the rest of his money. Turn is a black T and I'm good.



Really don't see much action for the next hour, and I cash out at $275. I know I had started doing a running count of how much I'm up/down for the trip, but the extraneous stories are getting more attention anyway. I'm not going to do math on my vacation.

Quick stop for a giant Diet Dr. Pepper:



Then 4am food shopping:




Goddamn I love Bawls.

Man I don't know why but really enjoying this.


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OP seems like the nuts to me

It's little golden nuggets like this that make OP a genius! Best thread in LVL in quite some time.

More Erin stories obviously. Like, how did she go thru so many cars in such a short amount of time?

The next day, she was still so mad! Not just at me, but at her competitor! How dare he use lamb! That's not a traditional lasagna ingredient! It's basically cheating! I can't believe I lost! First of all, you "lost" nothing since the prize was a $2 trophy I bought at Party City USA on my way home from work that said "Best Lasag" because I didn't space it out right and couldn't fit the "na" at the end.

I just about laughed my honey nut cheerios and milk out my nose.

OP has a gift for writing!

THIS..

Man and I thought I had a lot of good stories from my three years of living in Vegas in my mid-twenty's. I'm glad I randomly decided to click on this thread.

Tuesday, June 21 - Errands, cards, and date night

A buddy of mine has the day off so we decide to go cause a little trouble around town. I need to hit one place in particular, so we venture south and get a little lunch - salmon with teriyaki sauce, rice, and gyoza:




No man should be THIS excited for a furniture store opening:



If you didn't know, Las Vegas just got an Ikea about a month ago. The closest ones to us were in Covina, CA or outside of Phoenix. The big problem is that Ikea's business model called for massively inflated shipping costs in an attempt to get people in the door, so buying online was never really an option. If you had a truck or were just buying small things, you could make the drive yourself. Otherwise, there was a company that would make the drive every other week and bring back whatever items you wanted for a lot cheaper than Ikea's standard shipping charges. The website lists their last visit to the CA store as being May 7, which was about a week before the Vegas store opened. RIP.

The last time I made the drive out to Covina for an Ikea trip, I saw a guy die. I was headed south on the 15 just outside of Baker. It's a two lane road. I'm in the left lane doing about 80mph. The car in the right lane was doing maybe 75-77 (I was slowly overtaking him). Out of ****ing NOWHERE, a motorcycle cuts between us doing 100mph easy. It kind of took me by surprise, but hey what can you do. He starts to disappear over the horizon. About a mile and a half up the road, I start to see brake lights, cars swerving from the left lane to the right, and a big cloud of dust. Everyone slows down and I see it - the motorcyclist is laying about 100 yards from his bike, face-down, not moving, with blood seeping out from under his helmet. I have no idea what exactly happened to cause such a wreck, but I really didn't want to stick around to find out. Fortunately, I haven't seen too many people die on the roads (that's #2 that I know were dead and major accident #3) so that's a plus.

I didn't need much from Ikea, and one of the items I wanted to get wouldn't fit in my car so I'll have to borrow my wife's SUV this weekend. But I did come home with these:



A couple of simple laundry baskets on wheels. Really didn't take that long to put together, either.

After Ikea, my friend and I decide it's time for some 1/2 so we head on out:



I know most of us hate terrible poker table lines, like "C'mon dealer, I thought we were friends" or "That's not a hand, that's a foot!" I shudder when I hear things like that, too. But at the same time, I LOOOOOOOOOOVE horrible jokes. Those jokes that make you wonder what in your life went so wrong that you ended up listening to the idiot who is actually telling you these jokes. For example, before my wife and I got married, we had this conversation:

Her: "When we get married, can we honeymoon in Scandinavia?"
Me: "Sounds great."
Her: "And we can rent a boat, have a big party, and go see the fjords!"
Me: "So you want to have a Fjord Fiesta?"
Her: "I hate you."

Or Thanksgiving a few years ago:

Her: "Have you ever had pecan pie?"
Me: "I pecan't recall." (Why the hell is "pecan't" a word? Or did my spell check just break?)

Or this gem:

Her: "Do you like walnuts?"
Me: "I prefer them on a plate or on a table, but really any hard surface will work. Except the ceiling, because of gravity."

Okay one more:

Her: "I really like the nuances in this movie."
Me: "Aw crap, I just bought some aunces. I don't think we need to buy any nuances."

At the poker tables, I only have one of those types of lines, but it has to be the perfect scenario. The dealer has to point at the blinds and say "You're small, you're big". It can't be "Small blind, big blind" or even "Small, big". It has to have the "You're" in front. So we're at the Mirage and the dealer says this. And I bust out my line...


The dealer looks at me like I have three heads, and can't quite figure out what I mean. Oh you sweet, innocent thing you. One guy is laughing his ass off, and most people look at me with contempt.

One side caveat to that story: I was playing a tournament up at Red Rock last fall. I had just won a big pot and was stacking some chips when another table broke and our empty seats were being filled in. My head was down so I don't know who's coming over, I just hear the dealer say "You're small, you're big" and I bust out the same line. I hear someone say "Oh ****" and I look up. Turns out the big blind was...


He gave me a one-raised-eyebrow look, and I could only stare back like a deer in headlights. I have no excuse. Just kill me.

About an hour in to the game at the Mirage, I go broke when I flop the second nut flush against a rock in the 1 seat who flopped the nut flush. Well, off to the sports book to kill some time.




My grandfather used to bet the trotters, so I took a shot at it. I'll stick with my day job.

My buddy breaks even after a couple of hours and we head on out. Really unexciting day off. The wife is on her way home and says "I have four different things we can do tonight. Pick one - north, south, east or west". I pick west and she says "Well, that's the most boring one. Try again". Fine. North. She says "Once I get home, be ready to go..." Roger that, cap'n. We head out up north and I'm not entirely sure where we're headed. Then I see the sign. It's glorious. It's amazing. It's every fat man's dream. It's...



CHICKEN AND WAFFLES!

I honestly didn't even know this was a thing until a few months ago. Met this guy from Alabama and he brought it up in casual conversation. I decided to try it and knew it could be amazing, but I could tell my first experience was not what it should be. I got store-bought, microwaved chicken fingers with a fresh waffle, but I knew that getting real, southern fried chicken with a waffle could be the thing dreams are made of. And I was right. LoLo's was so good it almost made me angry. How could a concept so simple be so satisfying?

Unfortunately, I missed my chance for pictures for the second part of date night, but we ended up going to the Las Vegas mini grand prix to shoot skee-ball. I of course won, and we gave our tickets away to a couple of little kids running around. We got there shortly before closing and we didn't want to keep people waiting around so we could do go-karts, but we'll definitely be back. I say "we" will be back because a single guy in his 30s can't just stroll in there without being seen as a predator. I can wait for the wife.

After we get home, the wife goes to bed, and I do what any good American would do:



Goddamn I love me some Overwatch. Also, it may be hard to tell but there's a spelling error on the spine of one of those books. Second from the bottom, it should be "Public Policy". The book says "Public Polic".

She had that many cars because she doesn't listen to things like "reason". In Boston, she had an old Acura. When we moved out to Vegas, she sold the Acura and got a few grand for it which was used as a down payment on her Scion TC. The TC lasted for... maybe 15 months? Been a long time since I really thought about the timeline, but that sounds about right - September 2006 to December 2007. It was brand new when she bought it and she had zero problems with it. Plus, she put like the entirety of her tax return towards the loan, so she really didn't owe that much.

When she got the job with Home Depot, she got a couple of really big suitcases full of samples and models to show potential buyers - think sections of vinyl siding and windows, a heat lamp, and some other miscellaneous goodies. After orientation, her boss told her to think about upgrading to a bigger vehicle to carry all this stuff around. Fair enough. But I suggested she wait until she had been at the job for a couple of months before pulling the trigger on that sort of thing. Given her flair for quitting jobs (she had recently left AT&T over something really stupid), I didn't want to get stuck with an extra bill for a new car if she decided to quit. Sure enough, about three days later I get a call. She said "Hey I forgot my garage door opener. Can you let me in?" I open the garage, and in pulls a brand new, fully loaded Honda CR-V. ****. Okay, maybe it's not so bad. She'd been making really good money with AT&T and the Scion was mostly paid off, so even if she doesn't pull in as much from the Home Depot, at least she won't owe that much. The loan she got really wasn't bad, thanks to our neighbor Chris. Chris was a former car salesman and our yards were adjacent. Erin smoked, Chris and his wife smoked, so we became fast friends. Plus Chris' wife was SMOKING hot, but that's another story for another day.

Because I'm Nostra****ingdamus, Erin ended up quitting her job at the Home Depot after like 2 months and decided she wanted to get a smaller car. I told her absolutely not. Under no circumstances would I approve of her getting a new car. So we compromised, and she went to get a Mustang while I was at work. I didn't find out until it was too late.

She had brought the CR-V back to the dealership and inquired about used cars. "What luck," the saleslady said. "Someone just traded in this Shelby Mustang convertible with barely 5k miles on it. And I can get you a great deal on your trade in. Now, the Mustang is a stick shift. Can you drive stick?" I'm sure those two hens threw out a couple of thinly veiled dick jokes, but Erin then had to admit that, no, she could not actually drive stick. The saleslady talked to her boss and determined that, as long as the saleslady drove the car, the test drive could proceed. Erin called Chris to the dealership to help teach her how to drive stick and to help iron out the details of the sale, and Erin was kind enough to give me a courtesy call after the paperwork had been signed. As it turns out, it wasn't a Shelby Mustang. It was a regular old Mustang with a "Shelby appearance package" added on (which cost like $2k retail... I swear to god I really don't understand why people do **** like that to their cars).

If you're keeping track, that is now three cars that are not totally paid off rolled in to one loan.

About five months and one clutch later (which burned out on the very last day of the warranty), Erin decided she'd had enough of a car she couldn't drive that was too expensive for her to afford anyway. So we hatched a plan - trade the Mustang and my fully paid-off Toyota Camry that only had 70k miles on it (which basically means it's just been broken in), and we'll get two smaller cars. We figured the values of our two cars together could pay off her Mustang, and if we both got smaller cars, we could get our monthly payments under control. We went to Centennial Hyundai (mentioning the dealer by name only because I'm coming back to them in a minute) to talk about a deal. On the lot, I see a PT Cruiser convertible. As is probably evident by these stories regarding Erin, I have really bad taste. And I wanted that PT Cruiser. BAD. I don't know why, but I really liked the car, having a convertible is amazing for like 9 months a year here, and the price seemed right. It only had 20k miles on it, and after a test drive, I was hooked. We struck up a deal - the Mustang and the Camry for a brand new, zero option/feature Hyundai Accent and the used PT Cruiser. And for now, I was happy.

Our financial situation really took a turn for the worse nearly immediately after this, and we started to miss mortgage and credit card payments. Our credit was shot to ****, but at least we had two cars in good working order, right? Well, you guys know the fate of the Accent after the Denny story. We had to get another car, and she opted for a Toyota Yaris with slightly more features than the Accent (power windows and doors). I got massacred on the loan interest rate due to credit going down, and her credit situation was even worse which is why we opted to leave her off the loan. When she moved back to Boston, she took the Yaris with her.

So from September 2006 to December 2008, she managed to go through five cars - Scion TC, Honda CR-V, Ford Mustang, Hyundai Accent, and Toyota Yaris. Not only that, but she always became like BFF with the sales people she worked with - added them on Facebook, talked to them about the sales world, etc. These people aren't your friends, I tried to remind her. They're someone with whom you do business once and then forget about. You wouldn't add the cashier at Jack in the Box every time you got a breakfast sandwich, would you? Well - Erin couldn't because she would have filled her FB friends list in a matter of weeks. But you get the point.

The Centennial Hyundai story is a weird one. We bought from them, and almost immediately afterwards they went out of business. Turns out, the owner fired every. single. person working there and hired his family and friends instead. As you might imagine, this is a great strategy for hosting a BBQ, but not so much to keep a business afloat. So they went under. The property changed hands a few times, but just recently it reopened, again under the name Centennial Hyundai. I don't know why I felt the need to share that little nugget but... meh.

I mentioned Erin's flair for quitting dramatically. If you remember, her former district manager in Boston had moved out to Vegas and was now a store manager. He hired Erin to do sales, and the two of them worked really well together. He bounced around to a couple of different stores, and Erin always followed him. One day, he sees a male employee leaving the female bathroom. The manager pulls the employee aside and said "Do you have a vagina? No? Then stay out of the women's room." The manager was fired about a week later. Erin pulled a "Take this job and shove it"-type hissy fit and quit, mid-shift and with no notice. This all took place roughly four months after we bought our house. Yeah...

Chris and his wife Danielle were... an odd mix. He was a former stoner/dealer, goofy guy, had an associate's degree in some kind of computer networking or hardware or something... I don't know. I know that when he first moved to Vegas, he sold cars for a living, but by the time I met him, his work involved mainframe support for one of the bigger banks around town. She had a master's degree, elementary school teacher, she smoke and drank but otherwise had no real vices, and seemed way more prim and proper than him. I don't know how they lasted as long as they did, but by the time Erin and I moved in next door, they had been together six years and had a two year old daughter together.

I mentioned that Danielle was SMOKING hot, and I may have been underselling it. I mean an absolute knockout. She wore a naughty nurse costume one Halloween. I didn't stare. I leered. I made the whole room uncomfortable. There's even a small chance I was rubbing my crotch and licking my lips (subconsciously, of course...). Just WOW.

One day I get a call from Chris. "Hey Spike, it's Danielle's birthday and we want to go out. Plus, I kinda want to try something to see if I can convince Danielle to let us bring home another girl for the night. But we need a driver. Mind driving us around tonight?" This is either going to be amazing or a complete and utter ****ing disaster. Either way, I couldn't have said "Yes" any faster. Of course I'm going to witness this....

I'll talk more about Chris and Danielle tonight but unfortunately I have to get going for now. I need to shower and get moving up north to finish off two rooms I've not yet played in, one of which has a noon donkament.

Actually, quick question - do you guys typically shower or at least put on clean clothes before going to a tournament? While I obviously appreciate someone who is clean, maybe there's something to be said for showing up smelling like a sewer. Declare some kind of biological warfare on your neighbors and get them off of their game... Just a thought.

More gold. 11/10

BTW you should stop calling her your ex-wife or someone might come after you for something she did and claim you owe money or something. An annulment is like it never happened, right?

You are awesome. This is the best.

Hadn't thought of that. Unfortunately it's not something you can turn off, like if you want to play cash after a bustout. Plus, it makes it that much more likely that some goddess and her triplet sisters bump into you and want to take you home - until they get a whiff.

I'm driving into town tonight. Wanna buy you a beer and see the pics of Chris' wife we all know you have but can't post.

I've played (2/5 NL at Aria) with The Bulldog, few years back. He was fun to play with and told me a lot of really interesting info about the McCourts. Of course I also didn't start my conversation with him by making a dick joke.

Regardless, enjoying this thread immensely.




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Correct. The annulment is actually another story. I can bang that one out quick:

So Erin moved back to Boston. I saw her for the Judge Joe Brown thing. We agreed (verbally) to do a joint petition annulment - meaning, we both agreed to just part and go our separate ways, and we agreed to pay for it (like $500) with the money from the JJB settlement. Once we got the check, I went on to http://www.nevadadivorce.net/qualifications.html and started writing up my story.

If you click that link, it gives a lot of reasons for being granted an annulment in the state of Nevada. We used two of these reasons in conjunction with each other: a) that her mental illness (bi-polar disorder) was significantly worse than she let on prior to the marriage, and b) because of that mental illness, I refused to have biological children with her. Both of these reasons, by the way, were 100% true. We left off the prostitute part as a concession to her, in case she ever got her **** together and became a teacher. The papers were drawn up, and we had to go get them notarized. (Oh I almost forgot this side story...). I called up the Bank of America at Cheyenne and Durango, but no one answered so the call was routed over to the national call center. I said "Yeah I just need to know if there's a notary available". I was put on hold for a few minutes, and the agent came back and said "I just spoke to the manager at the branch. He said a notary is available. Bank-related documents are free. Anything else is a few bucks per page." Sold. So I get in the car and drive down there. I take a seat, and someone asks if they can help. "I just need a couple of documents notarized. I was told I can get that done here." The employee said "I'm sorry sir, but it's been two years since the state of Nevada made it illegal for notaries to work in banks. You must have gotten some bad information." Well... how about that?

Anyway, I get my **** notarized, and I ship it over to Erin in Boston to sign. She called me up and said "I need to talk to you about that. I'll be in Vegas in a couple of days and I'll swing by the house." Interesting. She comes by with the AT&T manager that got himself fired. And she drops this bombshell on me.

"I'm having a really hard time making ends meet. I need $1000 if you want me to sign these. Also, I'm taking the dogs." Talk about a dagger to the ****ing heart. We had these two little yappy annoying mutts, but they were really all I had left. Again, pissy-eyed Spike broke down crying, but at that point I was so desperate to get Erin out of my life, I agreed. She had the papers notarized that day and I wrote her a check for a grand (but told her to wait on cashing it...). Also, I just looked and realized I don't have any pictures of those dogs. That kinda made me sadder than it should have. ****. The papers were submitted, and a few months later, the annulment was granted. She was automatically reverted back to her maiden name, and according to the state, the marriage never happened.

So that's a really long-winded answer to your concern of if someone tries to come after me. Bring it the **** on. First of all, that's obviously not her real name. Plus, not only do they have no legal standing, my current wife is a rockstar attorney for one of the most powerful and "We take no **** from nobody" firms in town. I don't know how much of her work I'm allowed to share, but let's just say her bonus from one case was 60% of my annual salary.

I actually am friends with Chris' wife on Facebook. Unfortunately, she seems to have removed the bikini pic she had on there a while back, but there are still plenty of shots that show what I mean. I don't drink, but what the hell. I'll go degen it up with anyone, even if it means being the DD for a night. PM me or something. I don't know how this thing works.

Appreciate it. I think we were fighting in the NHL thread about whether or not Jacobs is a super-villain (hint: as a long-time Bruins fan, he is). But it doesn't matter now since WE GOT THE ****ING TEAM!!!!

And if that wasn't you, well then... ****.

Gah, I would have loved to hear about the McCourts. I was too ashamed to bring myself to speak to him after that one, but I did chat it up with his wife before she busted out. Super nice. Actually they both seem really nice and I'm glad they're in town and integrating with the community like this. He even pulled the typical dad "I'm so glad my daughter is saving me a few bucks by going to community college while she figures out what she wants to do".

I'm going to start typing up the Wednesday and Thursday reports, plus the Chris and Danielle birthday outing. But, I got home later than expected after visiting four poker rooms today (but only getting to play in one), and I'm going to run the 10pm at TI. Which, by the way, is probably the best post-7pm in town for the money. Kind of a good structure (really, no tournament has a "good" structure for under $100, but it's pretty decent), and they get a good turnout nearly every night, especially during the WSOP. It's been a little while since I've been there, but I'll be around. I've got glasses, a beard, and the shoe pic is in the first post. Say hello. Or don't. I'm not your ****ing mom.

This is one of my favorite threads ever.

Next time I am in town, would love to buy you dinner at Jjanga. One of my favorite spots.

So Chris and Danielle ask me to be their designated driver for the night. It's not every day you get to play chauffeur to your buddy and his wife as they go trolling for a second broad to bring home. We go to a simple dinner at the Chicago Brewery on Durango and Sahara. Surprisingly really good food, actually. And of course, cheap but plentiful craft beers. Then, we pop over to the Tenaya Creek Brewery on Tenaya and Cheyenne. Again, more beer and the two of them are getting flirty and tipsy. Then, Chris drops the bomb:

"Hey Spike. Take us to a strip club! I want to see Danielle's face buried in tits!" Sir yes sir, right away, sir. I only ask where they want to go. My excitement then turned to horror. "I know!" said Chris. "Take us to Larry's Villa."

If you've never been to Larry's Villa, it's... how do I say this delicately without sounding insensitive... it's a special place. Dave Attell tells the story of going to a horrifying strip club "... with 300 pounds of sad hanging from the pole. You want to mock her, but her kids are in the front row cheering her on." I went there once and a 50 year old Eastern European girl came up to me and said "You want 2 for 1 special?" I said "I don't want you to elaborate, and no. Never."

Located at Rancho and Bonanza in a part of town I can only describe as "Yikes", it shares a parking lot with a Popeye's Chicken.

Have I made my point yet? No? One more then...

I once went in on a Friday night and the place was empty. There were maybe 3 girls working, five guys hanging out at the bar and none of them were looking at the stage. I asked one of the girls what happened, and she basically said it's part of the "down cycle". See, ownership wanted to remove the (her words) "Ghetto element", so they banned gangster rap and anything that could even be remotely considered in line with that genre of music. Attendance fell because people aren't hearing songs they like and the girls are dancing awkwardly to AC/DC or Mariah Carey songs. After a couple of months of business being in the ****ter, management decides to re-allow rap and etc. Business picks back up and everyone's happy. Eventually, there's a problem with drugs, fights, or someone gets too physical with a girl, and management bans that genre of music again in an attempt to remove the "ghetto element". Rinse, repeat, constantly for the last ten years or so. This was one of the downward swings.

Chris, Danielle and I walk in, and we're greeted by this dude who's so big, I'm partially convinced he was actually four guys sewn together. He pats down me and Chris, and does a metal detecting wand for Danielle. One good thing I'll say about the 'Villa is that they never charged a cover for a local. At least, that used to be the policy. I haven't been there in years so maybe that's changed.

We take a seat and a waitress takes our drink order. Chris isn't exactly subtle that he wants to see Danielle's reaction to seeing naked ladies. If things seemed positive, he'd try to coax Danielle into bringing another girl home with them. The first couple of dancers were okay I guess. Nothing to write home about. Then the third one comes up. She was chubby but not sloppy, but MASSIVE breasts. Are KK cups a thing? She sees Danielle sitting in the front row and lights up. She gives her a "Come hither" look and beckoned her over with one finger (if I could make girls come with one finger, I'd be in a different line of work! Ha! That's a knee-slapper of a zinger! Ugh...). Danielle is pensive, but kinda drunk, so she goes with it. Chris is beyond excited and I expect him to jump out of his seat at any second. I don't know what Chris expected, but I expected something kinda slow and sensual. Like, sit Danielle down and do a slow lap dance - not one of those hardcore grinding ones. Instead... well... The stripper took Danielle's head and placed it between her breasts. I can only describe the next move as "Shaking back and forth so hard I thought she was going to break Danielle's neck". This goes on for 30 seconds and Chris' mouth is on the floor. Danielle stumbles backwards, falls, laughs for a solid minute and says "**** that. At least now I know I'm 100% straight." Chris' plan had backfired in a way that could have given his wife whiplash. I love this town.

Defeated, I take the two of them back home and we never speak of the incident again.

As time went on, they started fighting more and more. I'm not sure what it was all about, honestly, but I know some of them were so nasty I could hear the screaming from my living room. It was pretty impressive.

I came home from work one day and there was an ambulance in front of their house. I go outside and see Danielle there. I ask if everything's okay. "Oh yeah, they're fine" she said. "That idiot tried to kill himself, but he took like a sleeping pill and a half and did a shot of Jack thinking that would be enough to end it. Even left a note saying to give the insurance money to our daughter. Now I have to deal with this horse****." I asked if he was going to the ER or the psych ward. She looked at me like I was the crazy one in this scenario. "The psych ward of course. He didn't take nearly enough to kill himself. What he did is like a Thursday night for half the chicks in this town." Good point.

So Chris gets a 72 hour involuntary hold and agrees to check himself in to the ward for an extended period of time (two weeks maybe? A month? I forget). One day while he was in there, Danielle called me and said "Hey can you come with me somewhere? I have an appointment and my head is kind of all over the place. I can't really drive". Sure, why not? So we get in the car and she gives me the address. I start driving and pull into a parking lot of a building I've never seen before. We enter, and I see "FAMILY LAW OFFICE, Please check in at front desk". I hear "Hi, I'm Danielle and I have an appointment to talk about getting divorced". Well, that certainly took me by surprise. Apparently Danielle had been thinking about this for a while and got the name of an attorney from a family friend in secret. Not sure if Chris found the information and that's what caused his breakdown because I never asked what actually triggered that. But it seems logical.

Chris was served his divorce papers while he was still in the psych ward. He took it better than expected.

When he finally got out, he moved to an apartment while Danielle tried to short sell their house. Like me, they were completely upside down with no relief in sight. Selfishly, I kinda knew my relationship with Erin was imploding, too. So when I talked to Danielle, I kept saying "You know, once you're out, don't jump back in to a relationship. Give it some time and try to find someone with whom you really connect." In other words "Wait for meeeeeeee! I'll be single soon tooooooooooo!" She agreed, and a week later started dating a guy exclusively. Chris is convinced this relationship started way before they even talked of divorce, but I don't know that for sure.

Danielle and this other dude got married a few years ago and they're super happy together. Chris' job transferred him to Dallas, and he seems to be doing well. He won't add me on Facebook since I have Danielle as a friend on there, but we follow each other on Twitter and have texted a few times. He's got a new girlfriend and they had a kid together not too long ago.

I'm honestly glad things worked out for them. To this day, I still don't understand how they ended up together in the first place. But if I asked either one of them, I'm sure they'd say the same thing I say when asked about Erin - I'd probably do the whole thing over again, because it's made me who I am.

Just freaking awesome. Spike your storytelling style is vivid and hilarious. I just wish you wouldn't of caught so many damn beats.

I was really hoping your last story ended with you getting to bang Danielle as frankly you deserve it but it seems like you would of had to push some lines of friendship and been more aggressive with suggesting you two hook up than you would of been comfortable with for multiple reasons. Alas things happen as they are meant to happen I guess

Wednesday, June 22 - D-Day

The day starts like any other: A couple of errands and a trip to the bank to reload the roll:




And then, it's time to get ready. Today is the day the worst-kept secret in sports becomes reality: Las Vegas is set to get an NHL team. I've been a hockey fan my whole life, and growing up in Boston meant I grew up watching guys like Ray Bourque and Cam Neely. The only reason I had a job in college was to afford train fare and tickets to games. My favorite memory of the Bruins: It's opening day of the 2005-2006 season. I splurge on one of the tickets in the prime seating with waitress service. I got a little replica Stanley Cup that I still have in my office at work. The Garden was ALIVE with excitement for what the season brought. Then, the PA announcer started listing some of the names:

"From Minneapolis, Minnesota and Boston College, #41 Andrew Alberts!" Crowd went nuts. "From Kunglav, Sweden, #11 PJ Axelsson!" Crowd goes berserk. And it goes on and on. (And yes, I did have to look up a couple of players because I don't remember rosters that well). But then... "From Concord, Massachusetts and Providence College, #75 Hal Gill". "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO YOU SUCK! YOU ****ING CUPCAKE!!" Oh my god it was merciless. Here's a guy born in Mass and playing for the Bruins getting boo'ed on his home ice, and he deserved it. He was a weak link defenseman and really never played a physical game even though he was like 6'7 and massive. Just a wimp on skates and a waste of a jersey. Horrendous.

I remember towards the end of that game against the Habs, it was tied. Boston gets called for some bull**** penalty, and Montreal scores on the power play. As should have been expected, those replica Stanley Cups came raining down on to the ice. Bruins lost, but it felt like a win since I got to boo at Hal Gill.

I talked the wife into getting two season tickets if/when the team ever became a reality. Last February, they had a season ticket drive that was only open to individuals (not businesses or the casinos). The ownership group said they wanted to prove there was a market for the team, so they said they wanted to get to 10,000 deposits before they submitted an application for expansion to the NHL. They hit 12,000 deposits. They were up around 14,000 as of Wednesday. This had been rumored for a while now, but today was going to be THE day. I could feel it.

Now the only question was - which of my jerseys do I wear?



I probably shouldn't collect something that really can't be worn in this town 50 of 52 weeks a year, but I just can't help myself. I decide that, instead of doing one of the NHL teams, I'd go with one of the former Vegas teams instead:



Decided that the road (red) Wranglers jersey was probably the safest bet. Those Thunder jerseys are a bit heavier and hotter, so I didn't want to be bogged down by sweat.

I figured if the announcement was going to happen at the Hard Rock, and that was a place on my list of "never-beens", I may as well kill two birds with one stone:





It's a three table "room" that's surrounded by slots, but away from the main area of the casino. It's not quite as loud as it could be (fortunately). They advertise tournaments, so I asked the dealer how often they run. "About 5% fire". Apparently, Friday nights are the biggest night there and they can occasionally get a nighttime tourney going. Otherwise, nada. A couple of notes about the Hard Rock. First, they take $2 jackpot drop every hand in addition to the rake. Because they do a ****ton of giveaways. Aces cracked, high hands (quads or better), high hand of the hour (any full house)... I couldn't believe it. I actually had aces cracked on my fourth hand and made a profit thanks to this promotion. Second note, the game is uncapped. I got there about noon on Wednesday. One table had action. One table had a guy sitting there with a monster stack in front of him. Turns out, his game had just broken and he was sitting on about $5k. People were buying in at the table for anywhere from $100 to $1000 and he was just running them over all night. Felt a little too awkward to ask for a picture, but it was a sight to behold. At my table, however, I bought in for $200 and was second in chips, behind only a $320ish stack. Everyone at the table knew everyone else and they're basically all regulars. I think there was one tourist who wandered in and one guy who, like me, wanted to be in the building when the NHL announced the new franchise.

Leading up to the press conference, I went to look to see where it may be held. The annual NHL awards were being held there, but I really didn't get to see any players or too many signs advertising when/where **** was going down. It seemed strange to me that, for an event this large, there was almost no internal advertising. The biggest eye-catcher was that one wall had been turned in to the red carpet backdrop. That was about it.

Realizing I'd never get in to the press room to hear about the team, I just streamed it on my phone. It's official. Starting in 2017-2018, Las Vegas will have our first professional team in one of the four major sports (five if you include MLS... which no one does).

As for the game: Never had a ton of action but I got counterfeited a couple of times and cashed out $100 down.

Alright, I'm out this way. It's unavoidable. I have to cross off another one:



The Silver Sevens is about five minutes away from being a good idea. "Hey, let's all go make pizza!" sounds like a lot of fun. "Hey, let's all go make pizza covered in fire ants and hopelessness!" sounds like less fun. The Silver Sevens is that second pizza.

Their poker room... well, I guess calling it a "room" is an insult to rooms everywhere. I think I just heard my bathroom groan at the prospect of being lumped in with this bull****. The poker tables are located at the end of a blackjack pit. There is no podium to speak of or floor person around to make decisions. The only game running was 2/4 limit, which I despise. But I made a commitment to you degenerates to play here. So I did.




Every seat came pre-fitted with one of those plastic cup holders, so that's something. If you look directly behind the table, you can see the other pit going with craps and blackjack. By the way, the only blackjack table that was open had a $10 minimum. I'm honestly surprised it wasn't $3. Because no one was playing it, plus it's a Wednesday afternoon at the Silver Sevens. C'mon. Seriously.

Being behind the other pit meant smoking was going on constantly, and after an hour, my asthma couldn't take it anymore. I booked a $35 loser and went home knowing that things can't get much worse than that.

Coming up in tomorrow's report: things get worse than that, plus a meeting. In the meantime, I'll start writing up another couple of super quick Erin stories.