Saturday, July 18, 2015

Crave Attack

You know how in horror movies you see vampires being drawn out into the street owing to their lust for blood?  Their story is my own...only I'm not in it for blood...I'm in it for the fried twinkies!




The yellow cake dissolves flawlessly into the breading, and the cream turns into a delightfully gooey center of unidentifiable mush.  The powdered sugar is a bit excessive.  I got it all over the bar top and consequently made it appear as if I'd spilled some sort of illicit substance all over the place.

Want a fried twinkie for yourself?  It requires a trip to Fremont Street.  Dennis pooped out on us, so Pam started flashing me these beseeching eyes at me that asked, "Will you drive?"  (She herself was suffering under the weight of a White Castle slider craving.  I'm not sure if there are any other places to get those nasty burgers in Vegas outside of the Mermaids casino.)  I-15 on a Friday night?!  I felt more than equal to the task!  Dennis gave me some pointers on how to get my parking stub validated, which involved making a $1 bet on a blackjack machine last long enough for me to flag down a casino worker to punch my ticket.  (Parking is "free" for active gamblers.  Woot!  I'm active!)  I felt my casino savoir faire skyrocketing.  

I was expecting an even freakier crowd on a Friday night, but Fremont Street proved to be fairly tame.  The crowd was smaller than when we went on Thursday, and I'm unsure if this was due to the fact that it wasn't a holiday weekend this time or if the body count was down owing to the wildfire that closed I-15 coming into to Vegas from Los Angeles.  There were a handful of Elvis impersonators and a half dozen naked women walking around in pasties and heels, but other than that the sideshows were tame.  The main band last night was a country cover band, which didn't appeal to either Pammy or me.  We took our fried goods into the street in search of other entertainment.  For a while I tried snapping pictures of people's bottoms who earned Pammy's derision, but it's tough to balance a camera and a fried twinkie at the same time.


While there are plenty of entertainers who set up their act on Fremont Street, there are also scores of entertaining civilians who are just caught up in their own joie de vivre.  


Pam got a wee bit restless though and decided it was time to move on.  "Let's go to The Orleans for some blues music," Pam insisted.  "Where is it?" I asked.  "I don't remember," Pam admitted.  Thank goodness for GPS.

The Orleans, based on size and layout, looks like the typical off-the-strip casino.  The cars you see to the right of the picture made up three lanes of an extremely backed up valet area.  


There was a lounge area directly in front of the stage, but Pam and I could only find seating around the bar.  There was a decent view of the stage and a fascinating look into the world of Vegas novelty drinks, including $24 margaritas served in a giant plastic leg.  


The music was enjoyable enough, though one of my gripes persists--every artist is a cover artist. There's not a lot of original music to be had.  As at any casino, gambling consoles are built directly into the bar.  As Pammy sat and sipped, I decided to get $5 worth of blackjack in.  The machines are interesting.  If you click around enough it will tell you about the gaming algorithm.  (The dealer holds on anything over 17, holds after six cards no matter what, that it's using a 52 card deck, etc.)  However, it tells you nothing about the card dealing algorithm.  What a load of crock!  For every one blackjack I was dealt right out of the gate, the dealer managed about seven.  I lost holding a 20 way too often.  The thievery is blatant and shocking.  It did lead me to wonder about different card dealing algorithms for different parts of the casino.  They say the loosest slots and games are near the high traffic areas because the owners want patrons to see people winning and thus entice them to try their hand.  I certainly wasn't at a loose machine, but $5 did give me a surprisingly long amount of play time considering I'm a rapid fire player.  I began to wonder if I was being miserably drawn on (as opposed to being mercifully busted in quick time and forced to feed the machine more money) in order to encourage me to drink more at the bar.  Whatever the casino's nefarious plans for me, they got no further than my $5.  I've had my fill of gambling for the decade now.  I'll try again in 2025.

Another thing I love about Vegas is the valley at night.  Coming home, the lights of Anthem (another Vegas suburb) stretch up the hills and to the base of the mountains.  It's a beautiful sight and impossible to photograph properly with my little camera.  The building to the left is South Point Casino.  


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