It’s an imperfect world ran by imperfect people!  If I can’t, I should be able to because it’s how I feel about life.  Rather than trying to fill my thoughts with the frustration of the repetitive, destructive cycle of most of mankind, I honestly try to think about better things.  But sometimes it just drills a hole in the space my third eye is supposed live in and BOOM!  It gets ugly.

Let me finish up the PokerStars saga before I move on.  There were some bad emails running back and forth, mine were lippy, sarcastic, and pretty much damned hateful.  Doncha know I was voted the ‘wittiest’ in our highschool class but it’s because I can load up a tongue full of sarcasm that would melt the world’s strongest metal. I got an idiotic email from one support person that thanked me for thinking of their welfare.  That did it, I was back with the super sharp, triple dipped poison pen.  And I demanded that the email be forwarded to the head of verification, the head of security, and the head of support, informing the author of the particularly pathetic attempt at returning my sarcasm, telling them that if they were the head of all those departments, PokerStars needed a new manager.

I received a very well thought out return email that helped neutralize the acid dripping from my tongue and they asked if I wanted a manager to call me, if so, what time and my phone number.  I responded with the requested info.  I got a call the following day.  Of course I was over all of it by that time but I told Mary that I found it particularly irritating that a person in customer support would send me that email and I’m posting it – without the name – so you get the drift .

Hello Linda,

Thanks for your email and for your kind words. I appreciate your concern as
I know you have my best interests at heart, I assure you that I will take
your idea on board and appreciate the time you spent to write your email.

Kind Regards

Mary said that issues with the responses I’d received were being handled internally.  I told her that I was also dumbstruck by the fact that my account could be closed in a few minutes time but the ID I attached to my email within 5 minutes of receiving the notice I needed to provide verification of age, took over 16 hours to have my account turned back on.

Volume of email was the answer.  OK, I guess I can buy that answer.  Mary was very nice, not bending over backward but quite understanding.  And I told her that an hour after my privileges were suspended, the lame brain continued to insult me and others and no one worried about his chat garbage.  She said the whole chat session had been gone over thoroughly and his privileges were suspended.  OK.  I told her that was all, I wasn’t sure if I was going to look for a new site to spend most of my time on or continue playing at PokerStars, we parted cordially, and the incident is history.  Just be cautious kids, never state that you are a minor – even if you are playing on mom or dad’s account – and even if you are a minor – or you’re busted.

*****

I had an incredibly, horrific last three days with very little sleep.  I can’t even go into the whole ordeal right now because my brain has been reliving it and replaying parts of it and it’s too bizarre.  It has to do with he and she parentals…the ones that Riot calls mom and dad.  Perhaps one day I’ll get a bottle of wine and start penning.

*****

As I started my journey towards Vegas on Thursday morning (hot invite to the dentist’s chair for a check up) when I cruised down Irene street towards highway 160, I saw big birds on the ground in one of the open areas.  They were bigger than the regular crows in the area and then I caught the red head.  BUZZARDS!  I was running a little late or I would have gone back and craftily eased my way up closer to get a better picture, as it was, I got this one from a distance and cropped it.  From what I could tell, there were four of them.  They weren’t tearing into a decaying body, they looked like they were having a pow wow.  Yah, pretty funny.  Here’s the picture though, and I’m glad I got even the few I did.

*****

The visit to the chair found me having to have some of the composite replaced on the crowns in the top back right.  I have two that are metal tipped (yah, little grinder at night and the dentist that did them wanted to protect them by putting a metal bite surface on the crowns) and the composite doesn’t stay well on metal, even with a hole drilled in it to provide an anchor.  D-A-M-N!  This is just a real slice of pie.  That part was fairly easy.  My dentist sent me home with a new deprogrammer he had built – he said he had it built more for him than for me – and he knows I hate them.  But…I told him I’d try it at night.  Two nights of it and I do REALLY hate them.  But I will keep trying.

*****

My name really is Green or Greenen.  I just thought it was Geenen.  Even my media pass at the WSOP says I’m Greenen, so I must be.  When I registered for a room at the Suncoast on Wednesday, they had Greenen down.  When I picked up the case that had the deprogrammer in it, the case had Grene written on it (although Geenen is etched in the plastic of the actual deprogrammer, meaning my dentist got it right but one of the staff didn’t), and when I got called to the pharmacy window to pick up a prescription, they called me as Grinnen.  I wonder…I’ve argued for over 38 years, should I just go with it?  Or keep fighting it?

*****

As I walked across a super Walmart parking lot in a gusting breeze, I had the honor of a dance with a Nevada State Flower.  The wind caught it, pushing it up and down, filling it out and forcing it to float, circling around my feet like a skilled partner staying one step ahead of me, it danced off to the right and then out in front of me as I walked, moving in again close to my feet, and finally falling behind as I went on my way.  If you don’t know what the Nevada State Flower is, you won’t enjoy the picture – it’s a Walmart shopping bag.

*****

Checking into the Suncoast has been one of my weekly rituals for the last three weeks.  The sidewalk at registration that leads to a main parking lot – and of course the entrance to the hotel registration and casino area – is filthy.  It’s covered with gum, beverage stains, and the dried out contents of someone’s stomach after having too much fun one night…and it’s all still there after three weeks.  I remember my first trip to Vegas was playing poker at the Golden Nugget downtown.  I used to marvel that late at night when most of the tourists were in for the night, the porters came out with mops, buckets, wax, and big polishing machines.  The sidewalks were glossy and beautiful, cared for more meticulously than most people care for their home floors.  I haven’t been downtown to look at the sidewalks, or even out on the Strip in quite some time, but I admit to curiosity now.  I wonder if the unpleasant site of all that sticking to the sidewalk is normal everywhere in Vegas or just a standard at the Suncoast.

*****

I did spend one afternoon at the WSOP, the day I left the dentist’s chair, and I watched part of the Phil Ivey bracelet event.  I knew three of the other players at the table.  I really was rooting for one of the three to win it.  It has nothing to do with Phil, it has to do with they made it that far – and I’ve dealt to all of them as they climbed up the ladder of poker success and limits – and it would have been a real rush for them to win a bracelet…not to mention the bragging rights of busting Ivey.

Today is Saturday, I made it home about 35 hours later than I had planned.  I’m dragging ass and it’s only 5:42 Pacific Time.  I haven’t played online poker since the PokerStars incident, no withdrawal, no grinding need to play but I’m sure that a bit of rest will find me right back in the chair…this time with a mouse in hand and desire to conquer and stack chips.  See you there!