Cow's Vegas Trip

[MadJack]

PART 1

Digsville: Meyer Harris Cohen, the marvelous, benevolent, malevolent
Mickster, has been out of federal custody since April. He did nearly 40
years for racketeering, income tax evasion and the attempted murder of a
Nevada gaming official. Now the former gambling kingpin has called in
some old markers and started an operation known only to a selected few
clients.

Hush-Hush Sports -- officially owned by Mickey's spn, Morris -- is
actually run by the Mickster and a gambling friend of mine from long
ago; Salvatore Vecchio. I hadn't heard from Sally since I'd left LA
nearly twenty years earlier. I knew he was mixing with "the guys" back
then, but shit! This was Mickey freakin' Cohen!

So Sal calls me last night from outta the blue. Says he ran ino my
cousin, Kippy at Santa Anita and got my number at the enda the night.
Then he asks me, "So, you still a player, Cow?"

"Uh -- is the sun still hot?" I said.






Sally went on to tell me (in so many words) that Hush-Hush was the genuine
article. "I swear ta God, Cow! Mickey's given me 3 winners outta every 4
picks for a freakin' month!" He said. "We gotta a coupla guys that play
limits around Vegas for us, but the "real" scratch comes from some Chinese
gambling syndicate. Besides summa the old-timers back east, they're the only
ones that get our games. Period."

I hated to think it, but it sounded like Sally was playin' me. I guess he
realized it too, 'cause he said, "I ain't workin' ya, Cow. I know how it
sounds, man, but I'm playin' square! Believe me, I'll tryta slip yuz a play
now and then, if I can. You'll see, it's fuckin' bizarre!"

Then he told me how he don't think Mickey's fixin' the games or nuthin', not
that "that" ain't been done before, but he says the Mickster just seems to
know everything. "He's got more connections than Ma Bell" is what he said.

Well lemme tell you guys, my freakin' wife thinks Sally is a damn grifter.
She don't know shit from shine-ola, but she knows that I shouldn't trust Sal.
Can ya believe, that? The nerve a that little b ... babe. Just this morning
in fact, she tells me, "I hope yer not talkin' to that Sal Vecchio guy no
more, cuz I'll tellya Sugar, he ain't nothin' but dirt! Ya hear me? Dirt!"

You're right, he is, baby. Paydirt.

All Mickey's old henchmen have long ago taken the meat wagon to Slab City,
but the rumor mill has it that Jimmy Stampanato and Antoine "The Fish" Guerif
are now in his employ to --- how should I put this --- clean up messes. Now
your friend, Cow would love to share some of his new-found fortune with his
cyber-pals, but ... I don't wanna end up on a hook in some meat locker. Ya
know what I'm sayin'? So, please, alla yuz, place yer right hand on today's
current Vegas lines and repeat after me ----- I, (state your name), do
solemnly swear.

Cool. Everybody's in. Now remember, anything I tell yuz from this point
forward is: Off the record. On the Q.T. And very Hush-Hush.

 

[MadJack]

PART 2

Rrring .... Rrring .... Rrr ...

Yeah. Hullo. What?

Cow! It's Vinny. Where ya been, man?

Skidsville.

Again? How much?

'Bout a dime.

So what's the problem?

What in the hell d'ya want, Vinny?

Okay, okay, relax. Where's Ginger?

She went to visit her sister in Seattle.

Perfect! Dig this, Cow. Are you sittin' down?

C'mon, Vinny! Spill!

Small Change hit the fuckin' Pick 6 last night!

You're shittin' me.

A hundred and forty-six K!

Change?

It gets better, Cow. He 's takin' you, me and Snacks to Vegas for the
fight!

Hold on. Snacks is in town?

Yeah. Change saw him at the track! Hurry up, man. We're meetin' at the
club in 20!

I'll be there.

Cow?

Yeah, Vinny.

Who you like in the fight, anyway?

I thought you'd never ask, Vinny.

HOLYFIELD 200/310
HOLYFIELD by KO 100/400

... I dunno if I was more excited about Small Change's good fortune or
seein' Snacks, but I know in the backa my mind I was thinkin' Vinny had
somehow screwed up and none of it was gunna be legit. In any case, I was in
the Buick on my way to the club within minutes of hangin' up from Vinny. A
giant grin and my Nerelco portable competing for room on my face. Somethin'
was gunna happen, I could feel it. Somethin' big!

I pulled into my space at the club, splashed on some Aqua Velva and scoped
the parking lot. I didn't see Snacks' Cadillac, acourse he probably flew into
town. But I didn't see Change's 914 or Vinny's Mustang, neither. Hmmm. I
figured I'd be the last one ta show! "What's up?" I remember thinkin'.

Inside, I saw Mike was behind the bar, so I figured I wasn't in the Twilight
Zone or nuthin'. "Mike! A martini if you please!" When he delivered the
goods, I asked, "You ain't seen the boys have ya? Vinny told me to meet 'em
here."

"Notta word, Cow. I mean, since last night at least. Where was you, anyway?"

"You know," I said. "I been losin', so I took one of the girls out last
night. Why? Somethin' happen?"

"You ain't heard?! Jeezuz, Cow! You gotta stay in touch, man!"

Mike walked over to the window and broke a hole in the mini-blinds so he
could see the lot. "Here come yer boys, now!" He said smiling. "I'll let
Change give ya the wire. I can't believe yer still in the dark, man!"

With that, he yanked the drawstring on the blinds, clearing the window and
drenching the club in sunlight. After a second, my eyes refocused and what
should I see, but Small Change, Vinny and my cousin, Snacks climbin' outta
the backa what had ta be the longest freakin' limousine in town.

"Ya better gimme some whiskey, Mike. 'Bout three shotsa Jack Dainiels, for
starters."

 

[THE KOD]

:0008

 

[redsfann]

Small Change got rained on with his own .38


sure do miss Cow and his stories. Dem were da days for sure

 

[MadJack]

PART 3

Where was I? Oh, yeah. I dunno why, but I can't seemta remember too much
about what happened next. I even went so far as to go with Snacks to the
track last night, to you know, ask Mike what he remembersa that day, but ...
well, here's what we come up with.

So the boys pulled into the club in this black stretch. And, baby, the mooda
them suckers was electric! My best guess is, this was friday at about noon,
'cause I didn't have no buzz, yet. And 'cause Mike recalls that Change was in
a big hurry. Ya see, Change was determined to see Holyfield KO Tyson, but he
didn't have no tickets, hell, he wasn't even the right town! We figure it
musta been about 18 hours until the first fight on the undercard, so lookin'
back, I 'spose I can understand why Change was so freakin' antsy.

"Ya sure yuz can't come, Mike? It's all on me, buddy! Should be one helluva
fight! See ya, then. We gotta get goin'!"

I ain't never seena man talk so fast as that, but Mike had a sick wife at
home and bein' more of a square than he'll ever admit, splittin' witha a
buncha degenerates like us, was never even an option for him. He wished us
luck and we were gone.

From the backa the limousine, Change tooka long pull offa tequila bottle and
barked at the dame that was drivin'. "Beeline to the airport, baby. And step
on it!" He wouldn't even let us stop to grab our clothes ... or dough.
Nuthin'! "We're outta here!" he said, as the limo sped toward the airport.
"Anything yuz need, we'll get on the fly!"

That's really all any of us remember. We stayed at the club long enough to
have one drink, then we was off like a prom dress. Look out Vegas! Here comes
freakin' us! We didn't have no kinda plan or reservations or nuthin'. Shit,
we didn't have a damn suitcase! All we had was Small Change. Acourse, Small
Change had like a hundred and forty thousand clams in his moneybelt, so uh,
we didn't worry too much about details. Ya see what I'm sayin'?

Tomorrow: Cocktails, Showgirls and Security Goons! Vegas: How Suite It Is!

Of the hundred worst bars in the world, I'd be willing ta betchya that
ninety of 'em are located in airports. I mean, if it weren't for the
lack of alternatives, I'd probably never sit for hours at a table the
size of a serving platter, in one a them orange, stool-chair torture
devices drinkin' five-dollar a shot well drinks. Ya know what I'm
sayin'? Acourse, Change was treatin' and remember ... I said probably.
The next coupla hours were fulla waitin' around for a flight. We coulda
left almost immediately, but as Small Change told us, we was goin' first
class, or we weren't goin' at all. Know what I mean?

So me and Change talked about gamblin', while Snacks used the pay phone.
Vinny had hooked up with some skirt and wandered off somewhere. Unless
there were cancellations, our flight was due to depart at 7:11pm.

"Sounds lucky," I said.

"Indeed it does," yawned Small Change. "Very lucky."

I looked at the clock behind the bar. Tick ................... Tick
.................... Tick ................... Tick
....................... Tick. God, my ass hurt.

Snacks finally got offa the blower and joined us. "I just talked ta Sal,
gentlemen. And check this!" (dramatic pause) "He's goin' to the fight,
too! He said he'd track us down when he gets there tomorrow."

Change woke up with "that" news. "Too cool," he said. "Maybe I'll get ta
meet him, huh fellas?"

"Natch," we said. "You'll dig him, too! Sally's the best. Head-ta-toe
class."

~~ Attention, please. Flight number 468 to Las Vegas is now boarding at
gate 10. ~~

Small Change got up, crushed out his smoke and said, "where the hell's
freakin' Vinny?"

"There," answered Snacks, pointing.

I turned to look, and there he was, tucking in his shirt as he walked
casually outta the women's restroom. Right behind him came a pair of
smiling blonde knockouts.

The three of us just looked at each other; stupidly. Then we busted a
gut! "Damn Vinny's hot already!" laughed Change. "That lucky son of a
bitch."

As we walked toward the gate, with Vinny sprinting up behind us, I got
that feeling again. Somethin' special was gunna happen. It was obvious.

~~ Attention, please. Flight number 468 to Las Vegas is now boarding at
gate 10. ~~

 

[MadJack]

PART 4

Pardon this intrusion, boys, but some things need sayin'. Ya savvy? Like
maybe, have yuz noticed that throughout this narration I've been havin'
difficulty with the frames? Well ... have ya? Time frames, I mean. They've
been outta whack, Jack. Acourse, that goes without sayin'. Ya know what I'm
sayin'? Anyway, I think here's where we get back on track, Mac.

Ya see, the fight was on a Sunday, not Saturday like I been sayin', ya
follow? I mean, it suddenly dawned on me. We didn't hit Vegas until Saturday!
And as luck would have it, that's precisely where we are in this tale of
debauchery. I guess that's it! Sorry 'bout the interruption. Ahem!
(professional radio voice) And now ... back to our story.

The boys are back in town! The boys are back in town! The boys are back. The
boys are back.

We finally waltzed into the neon at around ten o'clock that night. Small
Change was "The Man" for the first time in his life and he was livin' large.
He'd given each of us a hug, a kiss on the cheek and an envelope. A thick
envelope. All he said was, "This place is ours. Lets use it up!"

We prowled the strip like cats; from the back of a limousine. I mean, we're
talkin' very cool cats, dad. The coolest. Unfortunately, that cool cat crap
didn't take, 'cause the whole damn town was booked! Every freakin' hotel was
packed like a Pall Mall cigarette. Sometime around midnight we headed to
Caesar's Palace. Snacks knew the race book manager there pretty good. Maybe,
just maybe he could pull us some strings. If Snacks could ever find him, that
is.

"This guys a shark, man." Snacks told us. "With alla this cooze in town,
he'll be on the make for sure. And I don't think he ever leaves Caesar's, I
mean, why would he give up the home field advantage, huh?"

He made a good point, but this still had ta be a longshot at best. Too bad it
was like our only shot, too. So for the next hour and a half, me and Vinny
talked, smoked, yawned and pulled a few handles. Small Changed paced, cussed,
smoked and drank a few beer mugs fulla tequila. The casino was hoppin'! Loud
'n crowded. Vinny was jacked up and drivin' me nuts.

"Cow! Hey, Cow! I'll be right back! The dice are callin' me!" Or, "I think I
see somebody I know." Or some similar crocka bullshit.

I just kept feedin' him the same line. "Sit tight 'til we hear from Snacks."
It was killin' him.

When Small Change went to the bar for his fourth mugga Cuervo, he got cut
off. Oh, fuck. He was a hundred feet away from me, through a crowded barroom.
Between his pockets and his money belt, Change musta had a hundred large on
him --- easy. Now he was sloppy drunk and screamin' obscenities at the bar.
Knowin' security would be comin', I tried to get to Small Change.

"I'm gunna knock yer teeth out, then kick ya in the ribs for mumblin'!" He
hollered.

I only heard the booze jockey say two words. "You're dead." He said.

As I fought my way through the crowd, Vinny on my heels, I could see that the
security goons was gunna get there first. Then, like Superman, or James
Freakin' Bond, Snacks had his arm around Small Change. He put a paira C-notes
on the bar and put his index finger to his lips. Then he waved some room keys
in Change's face. Me and Vinny broke through the crowd a second after the
house gorillas did. Nobody moved. I checked the now-smiling bartender. He
shrugged his shoulders at security's questions.

"C'mon!" They snapped. "Where's the damn trouble?"

With his hand in his pocket, the jock said, "The guy took off already. Calm
down, okay"

Them freakin' goons musta looked us over for thirty seconds. Then they split.

The four of us quietly grabbed our smokes and drinks and made our way outta
the bar. Without a word, we followed Snacks around the casino, through the
lobby and finally ... into an empty elevator. Where we laughed our fool
asses off!

That was how our weekend started. As you can see, we was startin' to gain a
little momentum, too!

 

[Betone]

Always enjoyed Cow's threads ... thanks Jack :0008

 

[MadJack]

PART 5



Still to come: The Prize Fight, The Party and that slimeball, Chick Lombardi.
So come back soon, ya hear me?

On our way up to the room, Vinny couldn't stop talkin' about how smooth
Snacks was.

"Jeezuz, Snacker! You saved Change's ass! You oughtta thank the man,
Change. You was about to have an accident."

Small Change was all smiles. Snacks too, I guess. Vinny however,
couldn't quit talkin'.

"It was like a movie the way you timed that out! And cool, fellas. This
cat was James Coburn cool, with the timing of, uh -- whattaya call them
posse guys in -- dammit, in the flicks, man! The dudes in uniform, like
a posse, but with the guy playin' trumpet? C'mon! On horses? What are
blah ... blah ... blah ... etc ... etc ..."

That musta been what yuz call a time a reflection for me, 'cause I was
reflectin' like a chrome-plated bumper on the showroom floor.

I was sure glad my cousin was on that trip with us. Acourse, it was
always great bein' with Snacks. I figured it had been two and a half
years since Kippy and me had actually seen each other. Eightteen
freakin' months! He hadn't changed a bit, neither. Except for his bein'
fatter, I mean. I'd say he'd put on 40 pounds, makin' him 5'10" about
270. Oh, but he looked good, Snacks always looks good. And lemme tell
yuz another thing, too. It don't matter whether he's gettin' rooms where
there ain't any rooms, or savin' ya from gettin' yer ass kicked or
sleepin' witha hooker in your extra bedroom; you always want Snacks to
be around. He's a genuine right guy! What can I say? And it don't matter
who you are, neither. Schmoozin' with the governor or cruisin' with da
bums, Snacks is everyone's friend.

Vinny was on cloud freakin' nine. He was still a kid, really. Shit,
he'll always be a kid, the lucky stiff. And he was hangin' out in Vegas
with three degenerates that he'd always admired. He had a plan, too.

"Win, learn and watch, Cow! That's my plan."

Have I told ya Vinny's a really nice kid? 'Cause he is! But just don't
ask him ta help yuz on the Sunday crossword puzzle, ya know what I'm
sayin'?

I remember bein' a little concerned about Small Change. It semed like he
was tryin' so hard to do the right thing that he -- I dunno -- I just
hope he had the time of his life.

"grlgt lg jqoi jgwi4u .... Earth to Cow .... come in, Cow."

"What the ... "

"Jeezuz, Pops!" It was Vinny. "Maybe you oughtta get right to beddy bye.
You were someplace else, man!"

"Clam up, smart ass!" I said. "I was thinkin' -- I mean, we shoulda
called Sal, dammit! He's probably in town for the fight! Why didn't we
think ta call him?"

That did it. All three of 'em busted up again! It as like 2am and we
were standin' in an empty corridor in fronta room 9S. And the three
clowns I'm with are havin' a tears-down-the-face laughin' attack!

"What?" I pleaded. "You fuckers smoke a number without me or somethin'?"

As he slipped in the key and opened the door, Snacks filled me in. And
ya know, for me ta be in the same elevator and somehow miss "that"
conversation, well (chuckle, chuckle) I 'spose it was pretty funny."


Check tomorrow for: "Can we raise the limit?"

 

[MadJack]

Always enjoyed Cow's threads ... thanks Jack :0008

I found this on the way back machine. Those were the days. 23 years ago. :scared May 15 is MJ's 25 year anniversary.

 

[MadJack]

PART 6


So, the fellas is all laughin' at me for bein' a freakin' lame brain, and I
didn't blame 'em none, neither. I mean, it was only like eight hours earlier
that Snacks announced Sally would be here! Christ, I hate gettin' old.
Anyway, they was laughin' like hell, really makin' a racket as we followed
Snacks into that room, but baby ... when he hit them lights, it got as quiet
as the city morgue after closin' time.

In stunned silence, the four of us stood there in the entryway with our
mouths hangin' open. Nobody made a sound as we scanned the biggest, most
beautiful suite yuz could imagine. Sincerely, fellas. It was so awesome that
it numbed us.

Finally, Small Change put into words what we all was thinkin'. "This is
the tits!" he said. "I could get used to this!"

I found out later that when his other connection came up empty, Snacks had
called LA and asked Sal Vecchio about gettin' us some rooms. And like I told
yuz before, when Sally wants somethin', he just picks up the phone and ...
Bingo! He's got it.

That's when I first started to realize how big Sal had become. He was huge in
Vegas! Maybe even as huge as Mickey C. used to be, I don't know. I ain't sure
I wanna know, neither.

As for the suite, Small Change was right. It was the tits! Parlor, bedrooms,
big screen televisions, two fully-stocked bars, the works! The joint had two
separate entrances, it was so freakin' big! We was nine floors up with our
own private room service number. All food, all booze, all hotel amenities
were comped. We got a courtesy call from the front desk askin' us if we were
pleased with the accommodations. Pleased? We were pleased as fucking punch.

As I was sayin', when we entered our suite for the first time, we was
floored. All of us. I mean, we was classy guys and all, but ... this place
was really fuckin' somethin'!

We scoped the joint in about three minutes. Then me and Change hit the shower
(Hey! We had two full bathrooms, man! Don't make me sick with them perverted
thoughts you got). Vinny turned on one a the big screens and found
SportsCenter, while Snacks made us all a pitchera martinis. Twenty minutes
later, the four of us were back in the elevator; casino bound.

We musta been a sight. I mean, the clothes we had on were sharp, especially
considerin' they was bought at Portland International, but we didn't, none of
us think about shoes! So me and Vinny was wearin' sneaks with slacks, and I
hear "that's" a fashion felony. But what cracked "me" up was that Small
Change had bought us all a sports coat and, except for the color ... they
was all exactly the same! Change thought it would be cool, I suppose, and
them was some nice threads, but I just couldn't believe nobody noticed it
until we was watchin' those numbers shrink above the elevator door! I mean, I
felt like we coulda been Don Ho's band, headin' to the showroom ta play Tiny
Bubbles, for Christ's sake!

Nobody else seemta even notice, though. Leastwise nobody cared. Well, there
was a brief exchange between Small Change and Vinny. Happened just before
them big steel doors slid open, if I remember right. Check it out.

Vinny: Gee, Change. How come I gotta "yellow" jacket, instead of a dark one,
like everybody else?"

Change: I dunno. I thought it would look good on ya.

Vinny: It don't though. Does it?

Change: It looks swell, ya ungrateful bastid!

Small Change was smilin' and Vinny had cracked himself up, but it reminded me
of a scene outta Reservoir Dogs. Ya know what I'm sayin'?

"Why do I gotta be Mr. Pink?"

"Because you're a fag, okay?"

Sorry, but I love that flick.

The shower had done wonders for Change. He was a new man! Stinkin' young
punks can bounce right back. I mean, you'da never guessed that he was the
same guy that staggered outta that bar, just forty-five minutes earlier. Come
to think of it, I felt pretty damned refreshed myself right then. The fatigue
had left me like my first wife --- quickly, quietly and without bein' missed.

A soft tone sounded, and the elevator doors came apart to reveal the west
enda the casino. It was around 2:30am and we'd been in Las Vegas for about
five hours. We had enough dough to open our own bakery and now ... finally
... it was time to do some gamblin'.

 

[Betone]

I found this on the way back machine. Those were the days. 23 years ago. :scared May 15 is MJ's 25 year anniversary.

We have had a lot of fun and entertainment over the years :0074

Thanks so much for creating this place :0008

 

[DOGS THAT BARK]

I found this on the way back machine. Those were the days. 23 years ago. :scared May 15 is MJ's 25 year anniversary.

Thank you for trip back in time Jack. As the song goes "those were the days" . i remember back (1999) in transition from(Josers Internet Gambler)site to yours in it's infancy. You were top dog of baseball handicapping .:toast:
I also remember parrots /peanuts....mickey mantle coin .. and IE being king of stats and comradery at its finest. We were a band of brothers I won't ever forget. Is amazing how how our society has changed in past 25 years. once again "those were the days"