Email grubby or grubette (unless you specify otherwise, emails may make it into future grub posts)
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A couple months ago, Paradise Poker sent me an email offering a free roundtrip ticket to a major city in the U.S. I thought it was spam and almost deleted it.
I hadn't played at Paradise in over a year, and then it was to lose at blackjack.
Checked around to see if anyone else had gotten the same offer but no one had (Paradise later extended a similar offer to Canadians). It wasn't tied to depositing or playing -- the only strings attached were paying the taxes, which were about $50.
It was after Black Friday (when Bush signed the bill) by the time I got around to booking through their travel agent. I requested two dates -- Thanksgiving in Los Angeles and the WPBT in Las Vegas.
By this point, my Paradise account was closed, but they still honored the offer, returning my call a week later with booking info for the L.A. trip. I never even gave them my Paradise screen name.
I should've first tried for Christmas in L.A., because fares then are over $500. Looks like I may be wandering the Indiana riverboats for the holidays.
Here're some photos from the trip.
At one point, dinosaurs used to roam Chicago O'Hare in the United Airlines section with free WiFi.
The goal preflight is to make you as sick as possible so you're drained of all fluids.
At LAX, the smoking lounge cages the smokers outside, but at least provides some nice shrubs.
South on the 405 was jammed because a truck had overturned, spilling logs all over the freeway.
I tagged along to grubette's friends' house to feed their cats. In the backyard was this coy pond. It made me hungry.
One of the cats darted outside and hid under the car, and when we chased her...
...she hopped over the fence.
grubette's cats (no relation) prefer the indoors.
This cat is 130 pounds.
grubette has a new scale and when I weighed myself, I realized the scale at Green Valley Ranch wasn't wrong after all. My daily fast food diet is catching up to me and I need to change my habits as soon as possible.
A friend's dog named JoJo came to visit.
He was so cute, here's another photo.
grubette won both the home game poker and blackjack tournaments.
In the poker tourney, she dropped The Hammer that forced me to fold top pair. She then called my all-in and rivered a gutshot straight.
grubette is fearless.
I dealt single-deck blackjack (blackjack 3:2, surrender, double any two cards, and dealer hits soft 17) and would've cleared $331.50, had we been playing for real. The house always wins.
For Thanksgiving dinner, we had a gourmet buffet with unlimited champagne at a restaurant called Orange Hill in Orange, Calif. We had drinks while waiting outside and shared a fireplace with The Slaters, an older couple whose name was called three times and each time they got up, they were told there was a mistake and to sit back down.
I judge the quality of a buffet by their shrimp being unpeeled and whether they have corn on the cob.
Orange Hill lost points on both, but made up for it with everything else. Any one serving would've been the price of the buffet, and I made sure to load up with several.
Over the balcony of Orange Hill was this magnificent view...
...that turned into this view at night.
We passed Hawaiian Gardens on the way home but avoided temptation.
Instead, watched TiVoed episodes of "Gene Simmons Family Jewels."
The day after Thanksgiving, we joined thousands of shoppers at the mall. The clothing stores these days are becoming so exclusive with a nightclub vibe and a hip-hop soundtrack that this store even had storefront DJs.
Making sure no one took too many free samples, horseback police patrolled outside.
Back home, I'd purchased full-price tickets to The Pirate Queen, the latest musical by Boubilil and Shonberg (who did Les Miserables and Miss Saigon) but completely forgot that I'd gotten the tickets for last night instead of the final performance today.
The entire Chicago run was in previews for the Broadway premiere and I was looking forward to seeing the show as close to the end as possible.
Now I have a worthless ticket.
I tilted by playing SnGs and 3/6 max on Full Tilt. I still have $200 remaining of the bonus that I've spent $800 chasing, so these reloads don't seem particularly profitable.
Irritated at myself at both the ticket and the cursed online poker players specializing in 2-outers, I caught the last show of Borat at this nice movie theater in Evanston. I can find my way to Evanston, but whenever leaving I always seem to get lost and wind up in Winnetka.
Tonight I'm back to doing laundry and packing. Tomorrow I'm prepping my ass for a 9-hour overnight flight to somewhere I've never been to that required an expedited passport renewal that arrived just in time.
The good news: I'll be away from online gambling for a week. The bad news: there's a casino nearby.
See you in a week, hopefully with more photos and maybe a story or two that does not contain the letters STD.
— —
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
The $50 dry car wash
I was thinking about the G2E show last week and how well it all went. And this from feedback from customers, articles by reporters, and eavesdropping on conversations from attendees in the restroom. If we were a movie on opening weekend, we would be a smash hit.
So without any bias, I can unabashedly say that our booth was the classiest. Our bar had a Euro art deco vibe, simultaneously elegant and comfortable. The carpet on our main floor had subtle traces of our logo to contrast with the looming logo from above. On all sides of the booth our logo could be seen, even from neighboring booths. We had and held a constant presence throughout the show.
Other booths' employees had colored shirts to identify themselves; we wore suits.
Others had multiple copies of the same game; we had one of each.
Others were showing prototypes that were still a year away from completion; ours were already approved and ready to go out the door.
And the games spoke for themselves. We have a new technology that I still marvel at. When it was first shown to me, my jaw dropped and I wanted to play with it like a new toy. It was like taking the slot machine of the past and morphing it into something brand new, while taking great care to respect the wants and needs of that older player.
Every game we showed had something unique about them. And as a player, not only can't I wait to play every one of them for real, I can't wait to watch others play them.
I'm proud to be working at this company.
I was reading through posts a year and a half ago, when I mentioned how forward-thinking this company was. Their games had a distinct signature and style and just plain fun aspect to them that it was like Christmas morning every time a new game appeared at Sunset Station.
And I work for them? It's still hard to believe.
I stand by everything I said, and even more so now. There is no other slot company I'd rather be with.
Just wait'll you see what we do next.
§
The bad thing about living in the city, parking on the street, and being away for a week is coming home to this:
I'd been so preoccupied with all the other things that could happen to the car, I never thought about battling street sweepers.
I suppose it could have been worse than being fined $50 for street cleaning. My license plates are expired by 3 months ($50), I'm missing my front plate ($50), and I wasn't displaying my Chicago parking sticker ($120).
So if I were an optimistic type of grub, I could look at it as saving $220.
My car's living on borrowed time till the next ticket, though. I can't find my Nevada title (I don't remember even having one, though I can't find my DC title either), and the Illinois DMV won't give me new plates unless I can prove the car is mine. Someone said I don't actually need a title if the car is over 10 years old, a fact I didn't think to mention to DMV. I'll have to make one more plea to Illinois, because I'm certainly getting nothing out of Nevada.
While I did buy a Chicago parking sticker, I haven't placed it on the windshield because the windshield is cracked and if I had it replaced, I'd have to get a new sticker. Plus, doing some poker third-level thinking, if the parking police see me as having the sense to get a Chicago sticker, why do I still have Nevada plates? With the Nevada plates (albeit expired), I can still be seen as an ignorant tourist who passes through Chicago a lot.
Frankly, I'd like to run the car off a cliff and be done with it. Or saw off the VIN, light it on fire, and run it somewhere into a cornfield (grubette pointed out it would be impossible to rub off the VIN that's on the engine).
I'm playing the odds and will risk more tickets by leaving my car on the same street again for the next few days. I should be safe from the street cleaning fine, but I may have opened myself up to the others.
I'm staying up all night because I haven't yet packed (or rather, I haven't yet unpacked from a few days ago) and in a few hours, I'm leaving to grubette's for Thanksgiving.
It'll be not just the grub clan but the Doug clan as well, and we're all going to a restaurant in Los Angeles to gorge on turkey or turkey-like product. I think it was last year when we decided it was much easier to just let others do the cooking and cleaning. Yeah, we're lazy, the whole lot of us.
After I leave, they're headed to Solvang to do a Sideways wine run.
Completely coincidentally, there's a casino nearby.
Two more reasons to be thankful on Thanksgiving -- that our beloved blogfather is still around and so that we have a day off to savor his entire inaugural post.
§
At last week's G2E, many companies were showing off their new dealerless poker table with monitors at each of the 10 seats.
I like the feel of cards and chips in my paws too much to ever be seen seated at one of these contraptions, but I do think the heads-up version has a chance. It's too cost prohibitive for a poker room to deal heads-up, but I'd love to see heads-up tournaments.
The booth babes at the show ran the gamut from showgirl outfits, cowgirls, snow bunnies, evening wear, casino wear, t-shirts, and "Deal or No Deal" suitcase gals. I'm surprised none were dressed as a slinky slot machine, maybe more would have paid attention.
I was only able to grab my camera for this one shot.
Looking at it now, I wonder if my contacts were in the right eyes, because I could've sworn this pair looked attractive from the back.
But the actual photo I took seems to have caught a transvestite version of Kevin Federline and Britney Spears.
Ah, Vegas.
— —
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Pampered at Green Valley Ranch
I'm finally back home, and how I haven't missed the woman upstairs clunking and squeaking around. Currently there's a screaming infant joining in the cacophony competition. I didn't get much sleep in Vegas, but what sleep there was was more comfortably peaceful than in Chicago.
My flight home was delayed, causing a midnight arrival. I thought the CTA would run in time for me to get home, but when I got off the Blue line at Clark to transfer, there was an announcement that the last Brown line train had left. Ended up back on the Blue and then took a cab home.
If I have to travel for work, at least I go to fun places with fun people. The last time I traveled for work was to visit some NASA people in Hampton, Va. A Hooters restaurant was the highlight of the town and was considered a family restaurant. We ate at Cracker Barrel and I drank alone in the hotel bar that didn't even contain a piano.
I don't get too much of a thrill from traveling: packing and unpacking; carrying suits, shoes, and extra clothes; ironing; lugging stuff around; being trapped on a plane... but at least there's no dealing with a loud woman, cat, and child in the apartment above.
And really, how can anyone complain about a business trip to Las Vegas?
My first couple nights were spent at Green Valley Ranch. Living in Vegas, I'd visited the casino many times but never stayed there. From the last time I played, I received a free room and jumped at the chance. GVR's new wing was finally completed, with a new poker room, sportsbook, Tides seafood restaurant, and loads of new slot machines, all of which I played. And played enough that I'm sure I'll be receiving more free room offers.
There's a new game attached to the Mr. Cashman line called Eggstreme Riches. I played the rest of my money on this game, never catching the shiny gold coin in top hat once.
Three banks of Mr. Cashman, and none were kind to me. If I knew that I'd be at the ATM six more times during the course of this trip, I would've just played poker. After spotting Jack Black trying to get into a poker game at Mandalay Bay, I won $100 playing slots (a game called Emerald Dragon). That would be my only win in 7 days.
New to GVR (as well as Red Rock) is the occasional announcement of a $1200+ winner. I'm going to have to come to terms with my rotten luck that I will just never see a handpay on a slot machine. As much as I've played, I should be hitting them left and right, and it's frustrating that I don't.
Met up with Kathy for all-you-can-eat sushi at Sushi + Sake (Sunday-Thursday from 5 p.m. to 7 p.m. and you can now pay with points right at the restaurant). The price seems to have topped out at $32.95 (and all prices have increased by $1). It was $23.95 my first trip a couple years ago, but the $9 difference is easily covered with just an extra order of ebisu (that itself is smaller than usual).
Kathy said the last time she went with three friends, they hassled her by saying she could only order one dish at a time.
We didn't experience any of that. Even arriving right at 5 p.m. and checking off an initial eight dishes, we continued to order until 7 p.m. (despite fine print stating a maximum of a 1-hour dining time). Ordering riesling (goes great with spicy food) might have helped to show we weren't just there to eat all their raw fish. If we ordered outside of 5 to 7 p.m., the bill would've come to $180. My record is close to $300, so I held back.
While showing off one of our games, I felt a nudge and saw a bunch of coworkers coincidentally headed to dinner. I was overstuffed from sushi, but I joined for drinks and dessert.
GVR's rooms are a hike from the casino. The lobby and hotel are far enough away that if you stayed there, it's possible to not even come into contact with a slot machine. I should've chosen that path.
The pool and spa area is one of the best in Vegas, even better when it's warm enough for people to be swimming and sunning. Speaking of sunning, did you know Vegas has 24-hour tanning salons? Even in Henderson.
The bathroom contained a large tub (but no whirlpool) and blue bath crystals (which I of course took home). His and hers robes were provided and strangely enough, so was a bathroom scale. I weighed myself, and it was obviously broken. I didn't take the scale home.
The toilet was set in a separate room with a phone that had a dataport connected, just in case you needed to be online while taking a dump.
In addition to the minibar refrigerator was this tray on the vanity table. It included suntan lotion, bottles of liquor and wine, and an intimacy kit containing condoms and edible lubricant. All at a cost, of course. Too bad they didn't also include prices for hooker services on the menu.
In the evenings was a turndown service, though no chocolate on the pillow. Instead, two bottles of complimentary water and another (empty) tray on the bed.
The bed was ultra comfortable, and it didn't break when I jumped up and down.
The view wasn't much to view. Then again, it's a ways from the Strip. The District is pictured, home of Balboa, where Pauly and I would grab square pizza 24 hours.
I miss those spectacular desert sunsets. If it looks good in the photo, you can imagine what it looks like in person.
— —
Friday, November 17, 2006
Zippers come undone in Vegas
Last night at Spearmint Rhino:
"Would you like another dance?" whispered Danielle.
I pulled her close and whispered in her ear, "Do you have to ask?"
She smiled, kissed my cheek and said, "Okay, but could you first do me a favor? Your zipper's undone."
I've been in Vegas since Saturday, probably a few days too long. I think back to how I could have survived living here, and I realize I probably didn't.
I'm typing this in the Caesars Palace Diamond Lounge, at one of their four free Internet terminals. To my left is an Australian guy who either has a poker blog or is showing a poker blog to a friend. To my right is a woman playing Sudoku. In my hand is a pina coloda to polish off the strawberry tart in the buffet. I'm trying to write fast, in case anyone is behind me waiting, wagging their finger at the 20-minute time limit. Diamond Lounge members have a certain feeling of entitlement; at the buffet they pick and eat food as if there weren't a health code.
The week was spent at G2E, walking through a convention center the size of 68 football fields. I confined myself to maybe a third of that, most of it filled with slot manufacturers showing off their latest wares.
The bigger booths hired booth babes via a modeling agency that sends them out en masse at $500/day... oh to be female and good looking in Las Vegas. They walked around in skimpy or classy or hybrid outfits doing their best Vanna White impression. One company hired girls to dress as suitcase models for "Deal or No Deal," roaming the showroom floor with numbered suitcases. My favorite was a company featuring a snow-themed game, complete with booth babes dressed as snow bunnies.
This was my first time at G2E, and it's an overwhelming and heavenly experience, being surrounded by the latest slot machines that invite you to play without investing any money. Free drinks (much of it beer and wine) were handed out by booth babes. Some included Pepperidge Farm cookies, some finger sandwiches, and some chocolate lollipops.
I rebooked my flight to arrive earlier and depart later. For the flight change fee, I could stay one more night and save $20. I shouldn't be tempted by savings like that: an extra day in Las Vegas can be deadly.
I don't have much of a trip report, but the end result is that I lost more than I care to admit, all on slots. If only I itemized, I could pull up all my win-loss statements and write off the losses on my taxes.
Despite losing, however, it's a thrilling experience to watch players play our games with the coworkers who created it. It's even more fun to play that same game with the creators. Because if I lose, I can swat the mathematician.
A bunch of us went to Spearmint Rhino last night, after five hours of a closing party with free food and an open bar, drinks at Hard Rock, and ransom-worthy photos. I spent most of the party getting to know some programmers and engineers over girlie drinks. The whole table was into ordering fruity frozen drinks. Being my favorite type of drink, I quickly took part. Our table seemed more like a kids' table at Thanksgiving dinner, against all the beer drinkers.
At the club, Maya chatted me up. She said she moved from Fremont, Calif., and has been living with her mother for 3 weeks. She's been working at Rhino for half that. I believed all of it.
I used my standard circus performer story, embellishing on the fly a bit, depending on her reaction. I said my name was Roy and I was in town for a circus convention. I used to be with Cirque du Soleil but the politics were too much, not to mention I didn't speak French. I miss the exercise and the high wire, but the lack of a net beneath caused health insurance to skyrocket. I left them in 2004 and became an accountant, but I still attend the conventions to keep up on the latest juggling developments.
Then my boss came up and blew my cover. He threw Maya a bunch of bills and asked her to take me into the backroom for a good time.
She prepared me for a "world-class Rhino experience," but it was nothing that wouldn't be done on the main floor. She was almost too nice; after the first song I said she could be more aggressive if she wanted.
Later I kept running into Maya. She was always eating Twizzlers and mentioned a drunk customer that she turned down because she didn't want to take advantage. I don't think Maya will make it in the strip club industry.
I still have 24 hours left in Vegas. I don't particularly want to lose more money, but I do have a rental car, so maybe I'll drive around and sample all the free food in the Diamond Lounges.
I'm getting the wagging finger now for being online much more than 20 minutes, so I'll wrap up with a stylin' strip club tip: when you're with a bunch of people (up to six), hail a limo and ask to be taken to your club of choice for no charge. They will usually accept, because they get substantial kickbacks from the club for each person they bring. Your trip back to the hotel is on your own.
— —
Friday, November 10, 2006
Fallen leaves in the fall
My favorite sound is when my daughter looks up at me with her big doe eyes and says, "Daddy."
Well, that isn't true at all. I don't have a daughter (that I know of, har har).
But I do have a favorite sound, and that's the sound of leaves crackling when a car drives by.
After a cold and rainy October, this month has been surprisingly warm. It's perfect fall weather, and with all the fallen leaves in the neighborhood (pictured above), there's plenty of my favorite sound to go around.
§
At work, sodas used to be 25 cents each, from two machines where both Coke and Pepsi products were housed in perfect harmony.
One time I saw someone set a shopping bag in front of the machine and plunk in quarter after quarter, filling up the bag, until the red sold-out light was lit.
My Diet Coke habit is four per day, but I'd get them one at a time. Either way, a few more people like me, and no wonder the machine was frequently empty at the end of the day.
Those machines are now gone, and in their place are new machines where cans are 50 cents.
To make up for the possible revolt, we have a newly installed soda fountain where drinks are completely free.
Trouble is, cups are now in short supply.
Yesterday there was a handwritten sign that said, "Save the cups."
I had to resist adding "Save the cheerleader" before it.
§
I keep saying I'm going to stop the online blackjack, but I just can't seem to. I can't even stop when losing 12 hands in a row (no ties; my record is 14) or seeing the dealer not bust for 32 hands straight (all on UltimateBet).
Playing online blackjack is usually reactionary to having a bad poker session. Why do I bother? It always turns much worse in blackjack.
I don't expect anything except to lose. Something in me makes me want to lose.
Gambling in a casino, I can't walk away until my pockets are empty. When slot machines used to accept coins, I would dig out and play my last nickel. Walking to the bus terminal in Atlantic City, I'd pass homeless people who were better off than I was because they weren't saddled with credit card debt. The last time I was in Vegas, Pauly and I had a heart-to-heart about gambling and addiction in general. We were at the Grand Cafe at Green Valley Ranch, and as I walked through the casino toward my car, Pauly joked that I'd probably play Mr. Cashman. I promised I wouldn't. I had $600 in my pocket that I'd be crazy to blow. I did.
Gambling online, it's when NETeller and my InstaCash bank account is zeroed out. If I ever happen to be up, I give it all back either in the same session or a day later. Whoever in these online casinos thought of a 24-hour reverse withdrawal period must be a psychology major, because that's just enough time to lose my winnings and the rest.
This is a terrible way of thinking and living, so now I'll say that if I'm still playing online blackjack by the end of the year, I'll go seek help.
They say it takes 21 days to break a habit, but it's probably closer to 12 steps.
Several programs are in Chicago, including one located in the county jail. The most amount I've seen were right in Las Vegas, though none would probably appreciate the irony of gathering in a casino meeting room. I bet there were lots of good stories in those meetings.
Part of not going is respecting people's privacy. I went once a long time ago, and I feared I would turn people's stories into a play. I already turned the experience of that visit into a monologue.
Another reason is the insistence it's nondenominational, yet a higher power and God is mentioned everywhere.
And another reason is the cake and all the food. Maybe left over from the overeaters, but if there's one thing I can't resist aside from gambling, it's free food (and free drink, as my Diet Coke consumption has increased to five with the addition of the soda fountain).
Chicago is a bigger gambling town than I thought. We're surrounded by states and boats that have casinos. Even the CTA has to remind passengers that soliciting and gambling is prohibited.
And that's not even mentioning the job, though I'm somehow able to distance myself and see the machines critically.
The online part is the main problem. I can always go to a casino with less money than I want to lose.
Online, I'd probably sell my kidney on eBay if it would let me play one more session of blackjack.
Every time I talk about this, it ends up sounding like the same broken CD. This time there's a consequence.
And if I do fall off the wagon this time, at least you'll get a story out of it. People's privacy be damned.
— —
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
More cheap WPBT hotel alternatives
If you're on the bubble about coming to the next WPBT because of hotel costs, Travelocity has some dive casino-hotels that include a $50 discount if you charge with MasterCard and use the code hotel50.
I plugged in Dec. 8-10 and pulled four that are the cheapest and closest hotel-casinos to MGM Grand, which seems to be the favorite place to play for poker bloggers since Excalibur downsized and became persona non bloga (biased here, MGM is my favorite poker room in Vegas).
I'm familiar with all of them, and they're all for check-in Dec. 8 and check-out Dec. 10 (three days/two nights). If I've made them sound worse than they really are, well, you won't be staying in the room that much, right?
The prices listed also include taxes and fees (which normally jack up your final bill 11 percent).
Remember, the prices are for both nights:
Wild Wild West -- $70.61 Wild Wild West is across from Pauly's Red Neck Riviera, a.k.a. the hookers habitat. Because they don't john where they sleep, the ladies take their clients across the street to Wild Wild West. But don't worry, it's only for a short time. If you're lucky enough to be in the room next door, think of it as getting free Magic Fingers. The casino-hotel is in walking distance of In 'n Out Burger, but for my money, I prefer Wild Wild West's own $2 burger or their terrific $9.95 prime rib special (including a big slice of chocolate cake). Both are available 24 hours. Though I don't recommend it because of the insane Vegas drivers, Pauly once walked from here to MGM Grand during the middle of summer, and he was only accosted three times.
Palace Station -- $90.46 (courtyard) "Courtyard" here means the rundown motel that used to be there before Palace took it over. It's pretty scary, but the pool and the locals you'll run into are scarier, trust me. Many a time I've almost tripped on a granny's oxygen tank. Palace is also where I played a slot machine and sat in urine... and continued to play. On the positive side, Palace is centrally located to gentlemen's clubs. Crazy Horse Too (which reopened) is in walking distance. On check-in, I would bat your eyelashes and ask if there's any room available in the tower. It isn't worth the $20 trick for an upgrade; after all, if you wanted to blow another $20, you could've picked another hotel. Palace also has a free shuttle that will take you to and from the airport. That's $30 saved right there.
Binion's -- $94.74 Staying at Binion's with its constant mazelike hallways reminds me of the Overlook Hotel. My room looked like a little apartment, with medicine cabinet and a double mirrored closet with only one side that opened. I slept with one eye open, expecting the other side to slide and reveal Jack Nicholson with a skinny actress. Nothing like staying downtown, though. It's Binion's, for goodness sake. Great Boyd soaps, too. And a $5.95 sirloin steak special, served in their cafe 24 hours. Ask for another vegetable in place of the horrid succotash.
Sahara -- $105.88 Elevators are right near valet; no traipsing across the casino floor for a quick run to the bathroom. Plus Sahara has terrific soft NL poker tournaments every day at 11 a.m., 7 p.m. (with free subs at the first 8 p.m. break), and 11 p.m. Buy-in is $42 with a $20 rebuy, and there are typically over 100 people playing. I played the most amount of tournaments at Sahara. The monorail stops directly here, with the endpoint being MGM Grand. The monorail has gone up to an absurd $5 per trip, but it's still cheaper than cabbing it.
— —
Friday, November 03, 2006
Another Mr. Cashman convert
My apologies for the downtime. You may understand once you see what my network looks like:
Apparently switching from Linux to Microsoft went longer than expected.
Should be all better now. The move is giving us much more bandwidth to fit our increasing waistline (no buffets mean I don't eat vegetables).
Perhaps more importantly, though, the server where Poker Grub is based is now outside of the U.S.
I'm sure I'm not the frist, I mean, first to do it.
§
An email from The Daily Grinder...
I went to watch the WPT main event in Niagara Falls on Saturday and that's where I saw HIM.
And he paid me.
It was my first encounter with Mr. Cashman so how could I resist sliding a $20 in him? I played until I saw his intoxicating dance and bonus round.
It was everything you said it would be.
Well I just wanted to thank you for introducing us...
It isn't hard to fall for that confounded gold coin, perfect teeth, and top hat dancing all around the slot machine. And if my casino win-loss statements are any indication, I've been putting him in champagne and caviar for quite awhile.
CarmenSinCity also recently fell under Mr. C's spell, playing again despite saying she'd take a break (sound familiar?) and trying out Lucky Lemmings.
Aristocrat's website strangely doesn't list Mr. Cashman, but it does show the PokerTek dealer-less poker table with touch video screens. If Mr. Cashman jumped out at random moments to take the player into a bonus round, those tables would sell like hotcakes.
My boss gave me a Mr. Cashman poster to hang on my wall.
"For inspiration," he said.
The picture is of an actual person inside a Mr. Cashman costume, so that inspiration also conveniently doubles as a threat as to what'll happen to me if I don't come up with a good idea.
If I can manage to find it casino dumpster diving, next year for Halloween I'll go as Mr. Cashman.
Grubby's Hands of the Week
What is The Hammer?
