Well, we’re back. Barely. Somewhere between Detroit and Toledo the brakes on the ‘Rango decided to… what’s the word here… FALL OFF THE FUCKING CAR! So that was awesome. A trip that took us right at 5 hours (and one big air high five to Big Butter Jesus) to get there returned at approximately 7.5 hours. But hey, you guys don’t care about the rolling death trap we charted through three storms and endless Dayton traffic anyway.
You’re sitting there thinking, wrap it up, TGC, where’s the recap… where’re the pictures? Okay okay. I’m getting to that.
First let me ramble a little bit about the Greektown Casino. This story ends with it being my fault for continuing to open my wallet up and pull money out, but before that, let’s go over the details.
There’s a fancy new Roulette machine in there that the bartender across the street at Pappy’s raved about. Slightly inebriated TGC thinks “man, I gotta try this thing out!” It’s a series of half moon bar-table rows with screens on it, and one giant Roulette table in the middle. Then there’s a guy that stands in the middle with an ear-hook microphone deal rattling off nonsense like an auctioneer. Fun. “Put the money right in there,” the man says (to me an the entire second floor). “Simply drag your ‘chips’ to the proper place on the digital board and wait for the wheel to stop.”
“EASY! Thinks this guy.”
Tap 5. Tap Middle. (Oh shit! I meant to go black, not middle twelve). Timer counting down. Tap tap tap… SHIT now my bet is 20 on the Middle Twelve. “No more bets” says the little digital voiced lady. “But wait!”, I scream at the ringleader, “I was trying to clear it, but accidentally quadrupled it!” “Sorry, the timers up. BLACK 31. 31. BLACK”
Okay fuck that noise. I quit.
So then I go to blackjack. 8 – 2. Dealer has 13. I lean to Buzzy, “Do I tap the table to hit or say it out loud?” Dealer takes my chips. “Hey Dealer, I needed to hit there!” “Sorry, bud, better be quicker,” says the smug though employed Detroitian. (Thinks, asshole, fine) New cards. 8 – Q. Dealer flips A – K. Takes my chips. I quit.
So you see, yes it was my fault, but I feel like I could have at least spread out the time differential of blowing $40 a little bit more with some help from the casino employees. Jerks.
“Let’s go back to Cheli’s over looking the park.”
With good lookin’ out by my man Buzzy, we found the rooftop of Cheli’s (which I had previously thought was private groups only). After a quick beer and then an even quicker beer, we head into the Park.
Single, double, run. Tigers take a lead. Then expand the lead on a homerun batted over the wall and up 14 rows. Yanks get the tying run to the plate. Strikeout (I think).
From there we found our way past the closed Leland Diner and across Circle Park to eat some Chili Cheese fries and head back to the Milner.
Big times… you know other then the blowing out of the brakes and the cheating sons-a-bitches at Greektown Casino.
I’ll get you fuckers next year. No word yet on whether FuzzyBuzz is game for a sequel. I bet Eday is though.