ONLINE GAMBLING AND CASINO GUIDE

Memorial Day is the official holiday set aside specifically for U.S. Citizens to commemorate the 99.9% of men and .1% of women who have died in military service.

This holiday is typically celebrated by sitting and meditating in quiet introspection about the sacrifices that have been made on our behalf, followed by visits to Veterans Centers and  memorials around the nation to donate time and money to causes that benefit our men and women who have worn the uniform.

Just kidding.

A quick glance around Las Vegas today reveals little if any concern for anything other than booze, gambling, and women.  The fact of the matter is that all Federal holidays are complete and utter nonsense, and people rarely, if ever, celebrate their true purpose.

These days, most people would not be able to tell you what Memorial Day is for.  All they know is that “it’s the start of Summer”.

Who cares if Uncle Charlie took a bullet in his chest in the name of liberty?  Pools are open, barbecues are being fired up, and the Harrah’s has some bitchin’ room specials.  Aren’t those the freedoms he was fighting for to begin with?

I hit about a dozen casinos this weekend literally from the Sahara to Mandalay Bay, and they were all as full as I have seen them in a long time.

This weekend, the majority of my gaming was done in the MGM Grand.

The MGM is a good place to hang out during “big”’ weekends because the casino is massive and the action runs the gamut from low-stakes 25 cent Sigma Derby to $5,000/hand Blackjack and everything in between.

The MGM is also unique in that it doesn’t have a particular “crowd” carved out for itself.

For instance, the Stratosphere crowd is typically lower-middle-American bargain hunters.  Circus Circus has more families.  Harrrah’s/IP is middle-middle class average rollers.  Mandalay is upper-middle-class. The Bellagio is mature and cultured.  The Wynn/Encore is for metrosexual seekers of amazing design elements.  The Hard Rock is frat douchebags who couldn’t fret a cowboy C standing in front of a chord chart, etc.

Obviously these are gross stereotypes, but all stereotypes have a grain of truth.

The MGM is a tough one to call, though.

If Las Vegas had a “melting pot”, it would probably be the MGM.  Attorneys in suits, next to rapper-wannabes, next to Cletus the tow-truck driver, next to some guy that just got done pushing a stroller to the lion exhibit, next to an Asian tourist with a camera around his neck.  If you can’t spot the demographic in the MGM, then they probably aren’t in town.

Even though the casino is very diverse, there used to be a group that favored this casino slightly more than others.  For many years, the MGM attracted a larger-than-usual number of gang bangers, and wannabe gangbangers from Vegas and Southern California.  I suppose the last casino at which Tupac was spotted, the casino which help send Suge Knight to prison, and the property where Mike Tyson bit Evander’s ear off lends a bit of street cred to the MGM.  Its location as USA Boxing Central probably also has something to do with it.  It’s not a problem (I haven’t been threatened with a beating here since 2007), just an observation.

Last night, I went to the MGM to pursue a dream.  I wanted to win a pantload of money, and then take the winnings into the main casino and parlay those winnings into more money.   We all have dreams.  Except for Martin Luther King.  That guy had no ambition whatsoever.

Anyway, the MGM Poker Room is a somewhat unique room, and it has been a player favorite since it opened nearly 5 years ago.  It’s very modern, open, and is a short 1-2 minute walk from any corner of Las Vegas Boulevard and Tropicana Ave.

This room is where I intended to make my big financial score in honor of the people who died at the hands of Japanese Kamikazes in World War II.

I grabbed a seat at a table near the rail, and I had not even gotten myself situated before I heard the following words:  “Hey Vegas Rex!”

On sheer instinct I turned around, and a gentleman I have never seen before informed me from behind the rail that he had read that I would be in the MGM on this day.  Ah, the live updates.  I often send “live” updates to the web anywhere from five minutes to an hour after I leave the particular place that I am reporting from, but this weekend I let people know where I would be ahead of time.

This is usually not a problem.  Especially in a crowded place such as a casino where it would be impractical to murder me without a thousand witnesses.  On this day, however, it caused a slightly different problem.

I shook the hand of my new friend, thanked him for dropping by, and then sat down.  A guy at the opposite end of the table asked “You’re Vegas Rex?”.  I usually lie and say “no, that guy is an asshole” when presented with this query by strangers, but since I had already admitted to the unfortunate moniker, it would have been impractical to deny it at this point.

What unfolded next was as bizarre a scene as you are likely to find at a poker table.

Apparently, one other guy at the table had heard of me as well, however, the 7 other people at the table had no idea what a “Vegas Rex” was.  Lucky bastards.

They were, however, very eager to find out, and the two guys who were familiar with my crap on some level began educating the others.

“Why is he called Vegas Rex?  Is that his name?”, one person asked.  “Yeah, that’s his name.  And he even talks about how he plays so watch out for this guy if he bets.”

Few of the questions were directed at me, but instead, I had two strangers fielding questions about me.

It was complete Twilight Zone.

Imagine sitting at a full poker table in the middle of a full room, and everyone at the table is talking about you, but not to you.

It was a little awkward, and as the conversation kept going, I tried to play through it.  That is, until I was dealt KK.  I threw out $10, and the table folded around.

Sensing the pointlessness of this endeavor, I politely excused myself and cashed out with pretty much what I sat down with.  I looked at my cellphone when I was at the cashier, and less than 15 minutes had elapsed since I sat down.

As I passed by the table once more to exit the room, the conversation was still going.  The only woman at the table, an older 50-ish lady was asking “Now, when you say blog, what do you mean exactly?  Is that some kind of TV show?”.

F my life.

Even though I did not have my poker riches with which to play, I spent the majority of the rest of the night playing various games in the cavernous MGM Grand casino.  Blackjack, Craps, Three Card, and even a little more Sigma Derby.  I called it a night at about 3am, and arrived home with 30% more than I left with.  I didn’t live the dream, but it wasn’t a Tropicana swim-up Blackjack bloodbath either.

Looking back, I was probably done a favor being steered away from the Poker Room.  I table hopped, game hopped, and had a fun pit session.  In retrospect, it was probably more enjoyable than grinding it out playing Hold ‘em with the same 9 people.

While the beginning of May has been very lackluster on the Boulevard (last weekend was scarce), the town may have pulled off a comeback at the hands of our fallen soldiers.

It was a great way to kick off the summer, and for me at least, it was a pleasant way to end a gaming weekend which began somewhat roughly.

Last but not least, I would like to thank all of the fallen veterans that made my boob ogling and degenerate gambling possible for the last three days.  Unlike the ungrateful tourists around me, I kept our soldiers in mind every moment I was roaming The Strip and throwing the dice.

I am, if nothing else, a true patriot.

• Keep updated through Newsletter or on Facebook

  E-mail:
  

  Subscribe
  Unsubscribe