Atlantic City

My my my, where are my manners? Heading into last weekend, I informed you guys that I was heading off to Atlantic City for the weekend with a friend, but I failed to give you guys the results. My apologies!

The first night was, well, interesting to say the least. My friend and I got there around 11pm, as traffic was god-awful the whole way through on I-95. The motel that I made last-minute reservations for didn't exist... it really didn't. I mean, I knew the place was far from the casinos, exactly eight miles away according to the site I booked the reservations through, but when Mapquest led us away from the bright lights down into a two-lane road with no discernible sign of man, street lights, nor street SIGNS, my friend and I started discussing whether or not we should find another place. It was at that point that we starting driving by random serial-killer-looking people who were walking down the street carrying bags of god-knows-what, and we decided to book it and get back to an area where there were at least witnesses lest we be killed.

Upon our return to the Atlantic City, we stopped by the Tropicana to sneak in a few hours of poker before searching for a new place to stay. After losing about a hundred after five hours of play, I told my friend it was time to look for a motel, one that wasn't in an area where we'd fear for our lives.

So there we were, driving around AC at 5 in the morning, looking for a place to stay. We didn't bring too much money with us, so we were looking for an $80/night place. Basically, we were cheap, homeless bums in pursuit of the cheapest, grimiest motel around. Unfortunately though, every place we stopped by not only was charging some absurd amount, but they were charging us said absurd amounts with the stipulation that we'd have to check out by 11am since, after all, the hotels had obviously conspired against us.

Anyways, about an hour into our search, we lucked into a $75/night place six miles away from the city (called Sunny Side Motel if you're curious). The area this place was located wasn't exactly a place you'd feel too safe staying, but then again, it wasn't like the psycho-infested area our other motel supposedly was around either. Luckily the room came with a mini-fridge on wheels, and right before we went to sleep, I pushed the fridge and a mini table up against the door so that I'd sleep comfortably.

We snoozed into the wee hours of the afternoon, and after a quick bite to eat, hit up the tables at Borgata. I proceeded to break exactly even after a four-hour session despite losing a $200 runner-runner, I-can't-believe-he-called-me-down kind of pot. We grabbed some dinner at the food court by the poker room, and after discussing some strategy, were ready to play another multi-hour session. Too bad my friend dropped most of what he had left over and asked if I was ready to leave, because I was ready to sit there well into the night (but of course I said yes to him).

So, overall, I lost a little bit, but nothing to complain about. I think that, besides two key hands where I wasn't aggressive enough, I played pretty optimal poker (I may go into further detail with those hands later). I was hoping to be back in AC the weekend of July 18th, a weekend my friends and I have planned on going for a while, but a cousin of mine, who is getting married on the 25th, is having some pre-wedding ceremonial crap that she guilt-tripped me into attending. I fucking hate weddings.