Casino Night
May. 10th, 2012 05:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
whiski_sourAs predicted, the Chicago portion of my drive was not as terrible as I was working it up to be in my head. My friend Harry (also my lovely date for the evening) gave me fabulous directions and was an all around sweetheart being so patient with my pre-driving paranoia.
The Palmer House is a lovely hotel and definitely out of my Motel-6-with-the-condoms-in-the-vending-machine league. I had a very nice room at the end of a maze so that I don't think we ever took the same route back to the elevators every time.
Harry and I got decked out in our finery and met up with Tim (the guy I won the tickets from) at the VIP entrance where we were passed by the likes of Ernie Banks, Todd Hollandsworth, and David DeJesus and his wife Kim. Inside, we waited in line at one of the bars with Bryan LaHair and Joe Mather. It was pretty loud in there, with the people and the music. I don't know how anyone had a conversation. It was all Harry and I could do to talk to each other. In the end, we were both just so O_O that we decided people watching was good enough. Yeah, I know, pretty chicken shit. But I have trouble socializing unless I'm feeling it's a "good" day and last night really wasn't. I had no opening lines and nothing really to say to any of the players. Harry was on par with this. We suck. We know.
I further suck because the only pictures I took were a few bad ones at the end of the night. I've never been a good photographer and I constantly forget I have the means of taking pictures, so we should all be not surprised by this. Harry took a couple of good ones that I hope to get from him though, including one of us dressed up.
So, yeah, after the VIP portion of the evening, we adjourned to the casino portion. It was there that Harry started his "hot, buttery slide to hell" as he calls it with another rum and coke (he'd had one in the VIP room, as well as a martini; I was still on water, trying to combat the flush of that hot room). This was also when I had my first of two sitdowns of the night. After a walk around the gaming area, I had to sit down. It wasn't just that my feet hurt; my legs were weak. Like I said, 235 pounds on 3 inch heels. You can't fight physics. I just didn't like that suddenly my legs were more out of shape than ever. I was better after the second sitdown and a beer (no kidding; I think it helped slow the nerve signals that let me know that I was having difficulties).
Harry ended up getting pretty drunk (but not annoying/loud/barroom brawling drunk), but we still managed to do pretty well playing blackjack. We also got pretty catty about the players' wives/girlfriends. For the most part, they all look like cheerleaders which provided a perfect example of some research that I read about men tailoring what physical qualities they're attracted to depending on the culture they're apart of. Baseball culture=cheerleader-looking wives.
Anyway, we were among the stragglers to leave the party as Harry was mooning over Theo Epstein (Hilarious! I missed having a fabulous gay friend). I was surprised by which players stayed until the very end. Darwin Barney, James Russell, Chris Volstad, Paul Maholm, Kerry Wood, and of course Ryan Dempster. I know none of these people mean much to any of you, but names to Google if you're curious.
We both bought mystery gift bags (the least we could since we didn't actually contribute to the charity by buying our tickets. Harry ended up with a signed Ryan Dempster ball. I ended up with over $100 worth of gift certificates to various places in Chicago. Guess I'll have to make a trip back to use them.
We also got goodie bags when we left the VIP room which included a Casino night t-shirt and really nice shot glass. Pretty nice swag.
I was a little worried about Harry going home on his own. Hell, I was worried about him making it to the elevator from my room, but he's a pro and made it home with no troubles.
I only managed about four hours of sleep, talked to Harry and his hangover on the phone as he made the trek to work, and then headed for home. I only got a little lost on the way out, but I really quickly figured out where I was and where I needed to go. Pretty soon, I'm going to have this Chicago driving business down pat.
It was a really fun night and I'm so glad I got to do it and it's one of those things that if Dempster is still a Cub and he does it next year (please, oh, please!) I'm saving my pennies to go back on the legit.
No way I'm lucky enough to win twice.
The Palmer House is a lovely hotel and definitely out of my Motel-6-with-the-condoms-in-the-vending-machine league. I had a very nice room at the end of a maze so that I don't think we ever took the same route back to the elevators every time.
Harry and I got decked out in our finery and met up with Tim (the guy I won the tickets from) at the VIP entrance where we were passed by the likes of Ernie Banks, Todd Hollandsworth, and David DeJesus and his wife Kim. Inside, we waited in line at one of the bars with Bryan LaHair and Joe Mather. It was pretty loud in there, with the people and the music. I don't know how anyone had a conversation. It was all Harry and I could do to talk to each other. In the end, we were both just so O_O that we decided people watching was good enough. Yeah, I know, pretty chicken shit. But I have trouble socializing unless I'm feeling it's a "good" day and last night really wasn't. I had no opening lines and nothing really to say to any of the players. Harry was on par with this. We suck. We know.
I further suck because the only pictures I took were a few bad ones at the end of the night. I've never been a good photographer and I constantly forget I have the means of taking pictures, so we should all be not surprised by this. Harry took a couple of good ones that I hope to get from him though, including one of us dressed up.
So, yeah, after the VIP portion of the evening, we adjourned to the casino portion. It was there that Harry started his "hot, buttery slide to hell" as he calls it with another rum and coke (he'd had one in the VIP room, as well as a martini; I was still on water, trying to combat the flush of that hot room). This was also when I had my first of two sitdowns of the night. After a walk around the gaming area, I had to sit down. It wasn't just that my feet hurt; my legs were weak. Like I said, 235 pounds on 3 inch heels. You can't fight physics. I just didn't like that suddenly my legs were more out of shape than ever. I was better after the second sitdown and a beer (no kidding; I think it helped slow the nerve signals that let me know that I was having difficulties).
Harry ended up getting pretty drunk (but not annoying/loud/barroom brawling drunk), but we still managed to do pretty well playing blackjack. We also got pretty catty about the players' wives/girlfriends. For the most part, they all look like cheerleaders which provided a perfect example of some research that I read about men tailoring what physical qualities they're attracted to depending on the culture they're apart of. Baseball culture=cheerleader-looking wives.
Anyway, we were among the stragglers to leave the party as Harry was mooning over Theo Epstein (Hilarious! I missed having a fabulous gay friend). I was surprised by which players stayed until the very end. Darwin Barney, James Russell, Chris Volstad, Paul Maholm, Kerry Wood, and of course Ryan Dempster. I know none of these people mean much to any of you, but names to Google if you're curious.
We both bought mystery gift bags (the least we could since we didn't actually contribute to the charity by buying our tickets. Harry ended up with a signed Ryan Dempster ball. I ended up with over $100 worth of gift certificates to various places in Chicago. Guess I'll have to make a trip back to use them.
We also got goodie bags when we left the VIP room which included a Casino night t-shirt and really nice shot glass. Pretty nice swag.
I was a little worried about Harry going home on his own. Hell, I was worried about him making it to the elevator from my room, but he's a pro and made it home with no troubles.
I only managed about four hours of sleep, talked to Harry and his hangover on the phone as he made the trek to work, and then headed for home. I only got a little lost on the way out, but I really quickly figured out where I was and where I needed to go. Pretty soon, I'm going to have this Chicago driving business down pat.
It was a really fun night and I'm so glad I got to do it and it's one of those things that if Dempster is still a Cub and he does it next year (please, oh, please!) I'm saving my pennies to go back on the legit.
No way I'm lucky enough to win twice.
