Passed a very pleasant night as Charlie 8 Saturday. The first half, in particular, was very leisurely.
I started out doing fills (taking chips from the cage to tables) and then I went 482. I had Daryl make me a grilled ham and cheese on rye, which Daryl does well, but he doesn’t slather them in butter so that the whole thing comes out as one big soggy, heart-stopping mess, which is the way I like it.
Still hungry, I went and made myself a tuna sandwich and after that Michaels, Fred and I decided to go and raid the dessert cart. There’s a new Starbucks in the food court and whatever leftover pastries they have usually make their way to the EDR.
All three of us are fit men, more or less, and individually we probably would not have done this on our own, but collectively we had the courage to go, pushing innocent dealers and porters out of our way.
After 482 I went to Eddie – 1 to relieve X-Ray, pulling some OT, for his 482 and I was actually kept busy as there was no shortage of cars trying to gain access to the employee lot, which is actually right behind New York, New York and people think it’s an official New York, New York parking lot even though there’s a sign at the entrance denying this.
Then it was off to man Eddie – 2. One of the pleasures of Saturday night is it’s the last day of my work week, and, since I stay up all day Sunday, I am authorized unlimited caffeine. So I made a fresh pot of coffee and enjoyed a cup sitting outside and a very pretty pit boss named Julie came out to have a smoke and a chat and before I knew it I was halfway through the shift and all I’d really done was take some chips to blackjack tables, eat lunch, and sit down.
I had fills again at 0300 and from 0400 to 0600 I roved and spent the last hour at leisure, manning the podium, with coffee.
At 0515 I had gone out to Eddie – 2 for still more caffeine and was making a fresh pot when I ran into Jo(s)e, himself there for a caffeine boost. He was prepared to make his own fresh pot and seemed pleased to see I already had one going. It was here that my hotel days came to an emotional, ceremonial end.
“How come you’re not in the hotel anymore,” Jo(s)e asked.
“Well, I went on vacation and then there was that stretch where I was filling in everywhere, dispatch, outside, whatnot, and when things settled down there was another hotel crew in place.”
Jo(s)e nodded; the coffee was ready, like us standing by to do its duty. I poured Jo(s)e a cup.
“Do you miss your Henry 1 days, Gaylon?”
I shook my head dismissively.
“No, not really. I had four nights a week up there for a year, and it was a great year, but times change.”
Jo(s)e nodded significantly.
“Yeah, we had some good times up there.”
Jo(s)e, of course, had been Henry 3 on Saturdays before becoming a full-time bike unit. He can relate to times changing.