Wynn Macau's Casino
I just got back from Wynn Macau's casino. Ok, I got back about an hour and a half ago, but wrote the previous post before this one. I was in there for about 5 hours and completely lost track of time. The original plan was to gamble a little bit, mostly because Mrs. Mo said I looked really tired during our video chat and I should go down there and relax and play a little bit. Well a little bit turned into a long bit... about HK$1500 worth (just under US$200). Bit out of my wallet by one of the 4 single play Game King video poker machines (9/6) they got down there. I really wanted to get a quick injection of some Triple Diamond slot action or maybe zone out on a Haywire or Triple Double Wild Cherry Machine, but gosh darn it there isn't a single solitary reel machine in Wynn Macau. Ok there are like four of em, but they're some crazy Kung Fu branded game with four reels and a screen I couldn't read because I left my glasses upstairs.
I had one of those vp sessions that really tests ones fortitude, character, humility and self-esteem. I'm continually asking myself, what did I do in live to not convert that two pair to a boat? Was I so bad to my brother and sister as to deserve not hitting that open ended straight draw? Did I disrespect my mother so much that none of these 4 card flushes will add another suit to the mix? Did I act up in church so bad to deserve being continually dealt four to a royal and flipping a lousy six, post held? As if the continual torture weren't enough, the damn machine - whose random number generator is in fact a 12 inch tall, mini-Steve Wynn, bedecked in an evil Cartman goatee and all - refuses to take my last 20 credits so I can get up and get the hell away from its evil clutches. No. It's gotta throw a sustaining three of a kind, natural J or better or a god forsaken two pair on the flop just to extend the agony. The damn Starbucks has worn off and I'm getting groggy, please evil Steve, shoot me now... it's duck season goddamit.
I guess you could say that I spared y'all more of my peculiar yet reasonably entertaining descriptive hoopajoop and shown, by illustration, that Wynn Macau's casino is engrossing and just as tantalizingly dangerous as Big Steve's Vegas joint. The god's honest truth is that I completely forgot where I was when I was down there. Definitely wasn't AC, Reno, Tahoe, Laughlin or Vegas... I was inside of a giant coconut slash casino possibly in the Philippines or maybe the Bahamas or the real Mandalay Bay.
This is where the genius of The Steve rears its much debated head yet again. He's taken the Macau casino experience - smaller, more intimate rooms - salons, if you will - and inflated their scope and breadth while retaining the intimacy. Wynn Macau's casino isn't like other large football field sized gaming halls. Through a very ingenious usage of a 'grid' (oh the horror!) Wynn Macau creates smaller gaming spaces, yet still retains the feeling of a larger group dynamic.
The dimensions of the casino are relatively simple. I didn't get out a yard stick, and these measurements are very very rough but there are approximately 12 large salons of gaming area. Each salon is approximately 100 ft square. One of the middle rows is about 2/3 smaller than the others, it plays host to centrally located casino cages and things like that. To the perimiter are various restaurants, starbucks a small slots nook, a bar, high limit slots, higher limit baccarat, high limit blackjack, Red Card sign up desk and a bite sized version of The Drugstore. Walkways provide about 12 feet of spacing between each of these salons. The gaming table areas at Wynn Las Vegas are psychologically seperated from traffic flow and slots areas by the drapery that hangs from the ceiling. Wynn Macau's 'drapery' is in the form of 'corners'... kinda like the old fasteners that your folks probably used to keep vacation photos secured inside the family photo album. These corner thingys are very cleverly designed and placed to not only keep traffic out of the gaming areas, but also encourage traffic into the gaming areas. They also manage to keep wandering looky loos a reasonable distance away from the tables. Not once in my six hour travails in the Wynn Macau casino was I obstructed from motion, boxed in, or boxed out of where I wanted to be. For some strange inside out reason it the casino flows like a charm.
I'm sure this verbal description of something visual doesn't make a helluva lotta sense, but there is no photography in the casino gosh darn it. I Googled up this and this but they just don't cut the mustard.
One more thing... the casino tables have wood countertops around the inside kinda like professional poker tables. It makes a lot of sense though... less burn marks, spills and what not. Since I got sucke(r)d into the video poker I didn't get a chance to track down an English fluent pit boss or casino manager to grill with questions. That's one of my priorities for tomorrow afternoon. In the evening, I'm planning on heading up to the Sands to see what Sheldon's Box of Baccarat looks like. I'm also going to do some photo and info recon at Jai Alai Casino, Casa Real Casino, and the two casinos in the Fishermans wharf - Macau Palace and Casino Babylon. I'm beginning to get worried that I'm not going to get everything done I had hoped. One more night at Wynn after tonight, then its over to Taipa for a night at Crown Macau, then over to the Cotai Strip to enjoy the brand new Venetian for a day and a half. Yikes time is flying by!
I was hoping to call into Hunter's live podcast/chit chat thingy at 7pm Sunday night Californy time, just in case any of the casino biz freaks on his blog wanted to ask me any questions about whats going down in Macau. Not that i'd be able to answer them, but I do a pretty good job bullshitting from time to time. Unfortunately, I've been up waaaay too late tonight gambling and writing that my sleep schedule is going to steamroll right over it.
Odds of me calling into Hunter's podcast thingy: 15-1.
Alright I gotta hit the sack. But first I've gotta turn off the piped in smooth jazz loop that is emanating from the flat screen in the room. If I hear "Feels So Good" by Chuck Mangione one more time I'm gonna barf up my Pussy Foot.