I’ve never been much of a gambler, so I’ve never been to the Par-A-Dice Casino over in East Peoria. I thought I’d finally give this place a visit and see what it’s all about tonight. I know they have beer there, so it can’t be all bad. We shall see soon!
Off we go into the wild black and red yonder!
And through the miracle of these here interwebs, you’re spared the white-knuckle drive over the bridge to East Peoria and here we are at the Par-A-Dice Casino. I’ve always hated that name, by the way.
Okay, normally we’d walk through the doors and a bunch of pictures would follow. But that’s not going to happen today. Here’s the story: I went in, it’s really bright and gaudy inside with tons of slot machines, blackjack tables and other gambling casino bric-a-brac. I found the bar in the back of the room and it’s not much of a bar. It kind of reminded me of one of those sad little airport bars tucked away in a corner near a loading gate. The bartender was nice though, I took some photos and then wandered around the casino and took some more. I should note here that I called earlier in the day and asked if you could take pictures in the casino and I was told that you could. Anyway, after snapping a photo of a blackjack table that wasn’t being used, a short little security guard with an obvious Napoleon complex ran up to me and started yelling at me telling me that photos weren’t allowed in the casino and really getting in my face in a rude kind of way. I told him that I had called and was told I could take photos and he told me that what he said is what mattered and that he was telling me no photos because it’s a private place. I asked him why there were no signs saying, “no photos,” and he just repeated that it was a private place. So then I asked him if it was a private place, why can anyone walk through the doors. This rattled him for a minute and then he answered that it was a private place and I couldn’t take any photos. This guy was a real asshole so I just walked away and as I was walking out the door I saw a guy in a suit with a name tag standing at a podium. I asked him if he was the manager and he told me he was the security manager. So I asked him if photos were allowed and he told me that they were. Then I told him about the security guard getting in my face and he said he couldn’t leave his “post” but he’d address the problem with him later. He then said that not all photos are allowed, such as taking photos of tables and some of the gambling machines. I told him he just said that photos were allowed and he did some double-talk, I asked why there weren’t any signs saying, “no photos,” and got hit with the, “it’s a private place,” answer. Obviously that’s the stock answer they tell their security people to use and I had had enough. So basically there will be no photos of the Par-A-Dice because it’s a “private place,” that anyone can wander into. Suffice to say, this is the last MBIP post from that “private place,” with rude, asshole security guards.
It was getting late, so I decided to go back to MBIP Headquarters for a few beers. The photo's a little fuzzy, but at least we have power tonight! Hey, that reminds me, a couple people asked about my old friend, Mr. Ice Machine and if he survived the power outage. It’s been a while since we’ve seen him, let’s go see how he’s doing. Maybe we can salvage this night after all!
We’ll go down the hallway...
To this room...
And there he is!
Well hello there, Mr. Ice Machine!
Well, hello there Mr. Asswipe! Couldn’t you see I was sleeping fuckface? It’s late at night, what the fuck do you want from me you dickhead?
Oh, don’t be like that, I thought we’d have a nightcap together, it’s been a while and I wanted to make sure you survived the power outage.
Jesus fucking Christ, you really are a piece of stupid piece of shit. Why don’t you go up to your dumpy little apartment of yours and drink alone like you do every other night. I’m trying to get some fucking shuteye in here you prick.
Hey, speaking of Jesus Christ, what happened to the Jesus Fish stickers I bought for you?
Don’t even get me started on that you goddamned asshole son of a bitch. I told you I’m an atheist and I didn’t want that shit on me. Luckily the landlord took them off of me, I suggested he evict your fucking ass, but you’re lucky you pay your rent on time. Asshole!
Well, I’ve got a surprise, Mr. Ice Machine, look who’s been Jesus Fish shopping!
And I’ve got some “Christian Fish” stickers too, this is your lucky day!
Goddammit you fucking asshole fucktard, I’m telling the landlord on you!
Always a pleasure to see you, Mr. Ice Machine! Praise Jesus and pass the beer! We’ll see you tomorrow! And hey...let’s be careful out there!
Fuck off and die you asshole son of prick you!
Related Posts: The Jesus Fish, Lagron-Miller and The Angriest Ice Machine In The World, Mt. Olive: The Church Of The Holy Condiment And The Angriest Ice Machine In The World and Two Beers @ My Apartment With The Angriest Ice Machine In The World.
Security God Art from Jaws the Cabbie
Jaws the Cabbie sent in this Security God art for today’s post. Ha ha ha! Thanks, Jaws!