Vegas, My Love

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I can smell The Venetian. I can feel the dry, desert air. I can smell the dust and hear the jingle of the gambling Mecca. I hear the music, I can taste all the food I haven't had in over a year and a half. I'm working my ass off to get back there, if just temporarily.

I'm only dealing one night a week now. The game I was dealing fell apart. The high school football coaches went back to work. One guy went missing after it surfaced that he stole a bunch of money from his job. Another guy thinks he's little Tony Soprano and tried to fuck things up. We were forced to move the game from the safest of locations to the perceived ghetto. The game is trying to kick back off but the house has decided that he doesn't want to pay me to carry on the potential of the game... which I demonstrated in the first place. So now I'm dealing on saturdays for a long time veteran of the G-vegas poker scene and I'm spending the rest of my time grinding the shit out of 180 man SNGs on Stars. I'm playing the super soft $2.20's and $3.30 rebuys. I'm 20 tabling and working my way up. Good luck me.

I'm in a perfect mood today. I forced myself up at 11:30am after going to bed at 6:15am. I feel open and alive. I got some juice from winning $228 in three and a half hours on Stars. The music I've chosen for today is squeezing my heart. I feel love from somewhere. Is it from Vegas? Is she sending me her love? I'm inspired. I may run away, but I will say good-bye, I promise...

As for Vegas, I miss you baby. You are my geographic love. Your smells, tastes, sights sounds... and your touch... oh, your touch... I shall return to you sooner than later.

Love, TheTrooper97