Actually, I should say football weekend. It started at 12:30 with West Virginia pulling off a strong fourth quarter to beat Marshall (and covering the spread depending on what you got it at). I made eggs for the Renter and I and in the process got egged twice, once in my shirt pocket and once in the back. See what you get when you try to do something nice for someone? Ok, so I did slap her in the face with a piece of raw bacon; I can’t blame everything on her. I called my bartender buddy to “see what he thought” about the Michigan/Oregon game and found out that he was going to open the bar early. Unfortunately he hung up on me before I could “tell him what I thought” about the game (ahem) and I was just too damn lazy to call him back. Let’s just say that I was an Oregon fan. (It was really great seeing the looks on the Michigan fan’s faces as they sat in disbelief watching their team lose yet another one.) After the game was over the Renter and I went to the Saturday $.25 chicken wing bar/restaurant and got caught up in the Brewer’s game. Around 8:30 we left for a different place that had the Badger’s game on and double bubble from 9:00 to 10:00. There’s nothing better than ordering one pitcher and getting two right away. Unfortunately I was tanking fast and couldn’t fully utilize the double bubble. I never really did get to watch the Badger’s game. Even if I squinted really hard I couldn’t make out which team was which. Oh, and then the Renter pissed me off with her whole “why can’t you drive your friend to the hospital at 6:00 am” thing (fuck, 6 am?). I asked her if we could leave, she said she was there to see the game, so I walked out. I made it about two blocks before I heard her yelling at me to get in the car. Seriously, if I’m not having fun somewhere I’ll just get up and leave no matter how far I have to walk home. I don’t put up with a lot of shit. I know; I’m an ass.
And then there was Sunday. Since I “fell asleep” quite early on Saturday I woke up well before my alarm was set to go off at 11:00. I popped my left over chicken wings in the microwave, took a shower, and headed up to the bar. My bartender (“my” makes it sound like I own him, weird) loves spicy food and we devoured what was left from Saturday. During Packer games they have pools where you put in $5 and get a random number between 0 and 9. If you get a 7 and the ending score for that particular quarter is 0-7 or 14-3 you win the pot. Well, G the hairdresser used to run it but for some reason he pushed it off on me last year. Not that I mind; I get to drink for free while I’m running these stupid little pools (that’s right, free beer!). Oh, and you think free beer is cool? Usually the people who win the pool give you $5 for running the pool. I was up $20 for the day before the Packer game wasn’t even over! They had some leftover beans, rice, and meat from the Mexican restaurant for halftime food and I had my share of beans and rice, a whole fucking plate full of nothing but beans and rice. Good shit. The only problem was I had too much. I was stuffed. The free beer stopped going down like the crack whores on North Ave (not that I would know from experience, of course). On Saturday nights they have rail mixers for $2.50. Not so on Sunday. Nope, buddy bartender wouldn’t cut me any slack on the five rum and cokes I had. I guess I shouldn’t complain; free beer for three hours and free food and all. I made it to the end of the Bears/Chargers game (which was a nail biter to pretty much the end but I called it correctly) before it was time to head home.
I’m not exactly sure what happened next. I know I brushed my teeth and took my contacts out. I think I tossed and turned for a couple hours before the Renter and I decided to go to the casino (yes, again). We stopped at the corner bar and I had two more rums and we were off. The rest of the night is really fuzzy. I believe I sat at one table and won $400. I took a break and had two beers at the bar and sat at another table where I pulled off another $450. Pretty fucking sweet, eh? The Renter and I left after that. We made it back home, I got undressed, and wouldn’t you fucking know it; once again all I could do was toss and turn. I jokingly asked the Renter if she wanted to go back to the casino. With lighting quick Asian reflexes she was dressed and ready to go. I was only kidding when I mentioned it but since she got dressed and everything I had to too. Back down to the casino we went. I sat at one table and won $300. That table closed and I sat down at a different table. The new table was the handicapped table (appropriate for me), the one that’s really low to the ground. And it was only a $10 min table; I typically don’t like playing at those tables. It’s not that I’m above a $10 table but you generally get better players at the $25’s and up. However, the two guys I was playing with weren’t too shabby. In no time I was up $400 and left to find an open spot at a $25. By this time it was 3:30 in the morning and they were shutting down most of the tables. I ended up coming back to the handicapped one. I plopped down the $400 I had just won and started playing. Except for the initial little dip I took when I sat down, my chip stack just grew and grew like Ron Jeremy’s penis. Around 4:15 am I decided I was done after I had gone up by $500. I pushed my chips to the dealer, got some black ones in return and left him a $10 tip. $400 + $450 + $300 + $400 + $500 = $2,050. Let me tell you, I’ll lose sleep or go without sleep for a day if you give me $2,050. I didn’t get to sleep till 5:30 since the Renter and I hit George Webbs before heading home. And for those haters out there who think I’m cheaper than a $2 whore (you know who you are, fuckers) I gave the Renter $33 for driving and bought her breakfast. Humph.
Oh, and $2,000 feels really good in your pants pocket. Damn good.
Wait, what was that? You don't believe me?
BLAM BITCHES!!!
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