Kicked Out Of A Vegas Casino

Share with a friend

The time I was kicked out of a Vegas casino or why I no longer drink...as much.

A friend of mine is in Las Vegas this week.  The last time I was in Vegas was almost this same time last year. (And yes, I'm aware that I didn't post about my trip.)

I don't go to Vegas as much as I used to, maybe once or twice a year.

We used to go several times a year. But that all changed after I got kicked out of a Vegas casino.

Kicked Out Of A Vegas Casino

It was January 1996.

The BMW Z3, the car featured in the James Bond movie, Golden Eye, was the Grand Prize at the Stratosphere Casino for slot play.

I was going to win that car!

Back then, cocktail waitresses came around often and the drinks flowed freely.  Maybe a little too freely.

Since I was playing for the BMW Z3, and I'm not a martini fan, I thought it fitting that my drink of choice was champagne splits.

Champagne splits are 187 ml (6.3 ounce) quart bottles.

I'm not a sipper. I'm more of a swigger.  When I have a drink in my hand, I'm uncomfortable when it's full. I feel compelled to finish it.  And when I have an empty glass, I feel compelled to have it refilled.  It's a vicious cycle.

You can probably see where this is going.

I really wanted to win that Beemer. And after a few drinks, I didn't care who won, just that someone won.  I was cheering everyone on. "Win a Beemer! Win a Beemer!" or something to that effect.

I lost track of how many champagne splits I drank. But I tipped the cocktail waitresses well so they kept coming around...until they didn't.

When I drink I get loud. Not the obnoxious, idiot loud drunk. But the "I can't hear myself talk" so I have to talk louder type of drunk.

And when I get excited, I talk loud normally.

Add drunk with excitement and you get a very loud gambler.

Apparently, I was so loud that my husband could hear me at the Black Jack tables.

And if I recall correctly, those tables were at least 100 feet apart, if not more.

Cut Off

It was around that time that the cocktail waitresses stopped bringing me drinks.

I didn't understand why. I was tipping, I was playing the slots.  And I was encouraging those seated around me to play.

The next thing I knew my husband was telling me it was time to go.  And we were privately escorted out of the casino by a couple of really tall big guys.

I never won that BMW Z3 and haven't been back to the Stratosphere since.

Have you been kicked out of a casino? Or have a bad drunk story?

Comment, tweet, or share this post.

Get the best credit card bonuses.

Follow us on Twitter | Facebook | Pinterest | Instagram | YouTube

Got a question? Or want help, suggestions, travel tips, learn how to travel for free, find out about travel deals, and maximize your miles and points? Use the subscription box below to sign-up and get post updates by email.

Photo courtesy: Daniil Vnoutchkov via Unsplash