And so it ended

I spent 8 nights in Vegas, and it all went by in a hurry. It always does. 

Let's start with a recount of my final night in Vegas.

Most of my time was split with two friends. Thomas, my podcast producer, was there first. Dave, my college friend, came second. Their stays in Vegas overlapped one night. 

Dave took a red-eye flight home on Thursday, and I wasn't leaving until Friday afternoon, so I was on my own for the final night. After dropping Dave off at the airport, I drove straight to The Orleans, a place I have stayed many times.

Normally I'd park in the ramp, head in and hit the tables when visiting The Orleans. Instead I parked in the front corner lot, far from the door. There weren't many cars in the area. I was closer to Tropicana Avenue than I was to the front doors of The Orleans. 

I stood there looking at everything from a distance for at least five minutes, wondering if it was my last time at The Orleans. My future in Vegas had been on my mind periodically during this trip, as I noted in my previous blog entry.

It's the roadside sign for The Orleans, the casino I have stayed at multiple times over the past decade.
I have found myself sitting in a quiet corner of its parking lot for a few minutes the past few trips, contemplating life as I know it. 

I took a picture of the giant Orleans sign out front and finally headed inside to try my luck at cards.  

I spent a couple of hours playing Ultimate Texas Hold 'Em. I didn't win money. I lost about $65 during my time on the table. It was a mostly forgettable night of cards, save for two things. 

A dude, probably younger than me, but hard to tell for sure, ended up right next to me. This dude was wearing a track suit, and had an East Coast accent. He referenced being from Boston at one point. And he also mentioned something about being comped at the casino, suggesting he was not a Vegas transplant. 

His distinct look is not what I will remember most. It wasn't his incessant table talk that I will remember most. It was his cash that I will remember most. 

I don't walk the tables at Bellagio, Wynn or other swanky casinos. I suspect I'd see a lot of cash on some of those tables if I did. I see people with hundreds of dollars in chips sit down at Orleans tables periodically, but I don't recall having ever noticed anyone with $5,000 in chips seated anywhere on the floor. I'm sure I have, but it doesn't fascinate me enough to remember it happening.

Mr. Track Suit didn't have a huge stack of chips in his possession as he sat down, but he had a fistful of black chips. It looked like $1,200 or $1,300. That's a lot for a $5 Ultimate Texas Hold 'Em table, but not obscene. And he played $25 hands every time, talking up a storm and trying to decide whether or not to bet his 9 high pocket card following the river. Seriously, the guy talked a lot. Given I talk a lot, that's saying something. 

The thing that struck me as odd about his presence was the cash he was carrying around. I'm sure a lot of people are carrying more cash than I would guess. But Mr. Track Suit had a strap of $100 bills tucked into one of his pockets. I didn't gawk at it, but he pulled it out on two different occasions, looked at it briefly, and somewhat discretely, then put it back wherever he had it tucked. 

I suppose it could have been a single $100 bill on top of a stack of $1 bills, but I doubt it. I'm guessing they were all $100 bills, and it sure looked like $10,000 to me. Perhaps there was a little less in it, given he had more than $1,000 in chips on the table.

I'm sure most longtime gamblers have seen big stacks of cash flashed somewhere, but I don't recall ever seeing it, and I never would have bet on the place where it happened being The Orleans. 

I was lucky that night. As I said, I lost about $65. Hardly a disastrous night. But I was set to drop $170. No big deal, given I was up for the week. But I took home an extra $100 thanks to an error. 

Dealers make mistakes. It happens. I had noticed earlier in the evening, after the hand was done, that I was shorted $10 on a full house payout. I knew it didn't seem quite right at the time of the payout, but I wasn't sharp enough to catch why as I studied the payout.

Cards were scooped up, I pulled chips back, here comes the next hand. Then it hit me. I was paid even money on my "blind" bet, when I should have been paid 3:1. It seemed a little late to call for a check of the payouts, so I accepted it as a dealer error that went against me. Sometimes the dealer errs in the player's favor. That has happened plenty of times. So this one went against me. It likely wasn't the first time, but in this case, I realized it after the fact. 

So as the night goes on, my luck swings back and forth. I'm never ahead at the table, and as midnight passes, I'm down on my luck again. I need to check out of my room at 10 a.m. Friday anyway, and I'm betting with my last chips. There would not be another buy in. 

The dealer made an improbable queen-high straight, killing the table. Me, too, I think. I'm pretty sure that despite the king in my pocket cards, I don't have a straight. She looked at it for a moment, and I realized she was trying to analyze it. I almost told her I didn't have it, as I am certain I didn't. Then she paid my hand and cleared my cards. 

Nobody said anything, not even Mr. Track Suit. We all sat there in silence for a second, then I lamented how the dealer's 9 in her pocket killed everyone else at the table. Onto the next hand, I'm still in the game.

I certainly didn't try to mislead the dealer, or suggest I had a winning hand, as Mr. Track Suit liked doing periodically. I'm 99% certain, based upon the cards I was seeing past midnight, that I didn't win. The silence at the table certainly suggested to me that I didn't, otherwise the other players would have commented about my nice hand. 

Was I wrong for not sharing my doubt about having a winning hand? Perhaps. You could argue it was unethical. If I'd had a straight, and she scooped my chips, I'd be quick to point that out, of course. 

On the other hand, I am confident a dealer mistake earlier that evening cost me $10. It's not an even mistake, I came out ahead, but until that point, I was shorted $10 by the house for more than an hour. 

I'm not losing sleep over this. 

I played a bit longer. I played the next hand, and put a $1 tip on the "trips" bet for the dealer. Given the gift it appeared I had just received, I figured I could offer a modest tip for the dealer. And on the very next hand I hit a full house. A nice little win for me, and a $9 tip for the dealer. 

I tipped a buck on the "trips" bet again during the next hand, but my luck had run out. After another modest win and a loss, I was ready to call it a night. I colored up for $100 that I shouldn't have had and made my way to the door. 

It was time to go back to my room at the Holiday Inn Club Vacations at Desert Club Resort. That's the name that shows up on Google, anyway. 

It's a timeshare joint on Koval Lane, behind the High Roller wheel at the Linq, and next to the MSG Sphere that's under construction. It's a decent place, and like many non-casino hotels, it has its benefits and drawbacks. Dave owns timeshares. Yes, more than one. He bought them on the cheap from disgruntled owners, and seems to like the perks and benefits he gets as a result. We paid for five nights at the Desert Club, we weren't using his "owned" week, or whatever he has. It was $200 for five nights, just a short walk down the street from Ellis Island. 

I spent five nights at the Desert Club Resort on Koval Lane. From the north boundary of the property you can get a good look at the fantastic MSG Sphere. A concert venue behind the strip? Why not, it works for T-Mobile Arena, although access to MSG Sphere won't be as slick. 

I returned to the Desert Club to begin packing and preparing for my Friday departure. I didn't have a ton of packing to do, but I did run a load of laundry before going to bed. Having a washer and dryer in your vacation unit is nice. 

Perhaps I'll elaborate on the pros and cons of the Desert Club in the future. 

My Friday morning was highly uneventful. I played a little pinball before returning my rental vehicle and heading to the airport, wondering when, or if, I'll have an appetite to do it all again.