Aces: Checking In and meeting the Crew
It hits me. The air hits me immediately. Thick, stagnant, and humid, a suffocating heat that instantly dulls the keen edge of my focus. It’s a sensory assault. The noise of the floor is worse than any Strip casino, not a polished hum but a grating, echoing cacophony of loose slot reels and shouting that bounces off the cheap, hard surfaces. My senses, which I rely on to be my first line of defense, are struggling for purchase. With how uncomfortable and hot everything feels, everyone here will be fucking like porn stars. After a while, I manage to adjust to the chaos well enough to observe what is going on at the table games. Especially the Blackjack tables. In addition, I notice the craps tables are bustling with rich kids and their respective entourages. I take note of the signs everywhere and where they point to. A cafe, a steakhouse, a gift shop, a place for sports betting, and a bar. But all of that is standard at most Casinos on the strip these days, so that is not what leaves q...
