"Jeeves!" "J-Jeeeeves!" "JEEEVES!" "Look, man look!"
I turned around to look at what all the excitement was about
Master pointed excitedly out at the car lot where he had been partaking of an Embassy.
At this
Oddly it had snowed in Vegas in July earlier that day, too
"Jeeves look at those tyres. Phwoar, Jeeves. Rubber Jeeves, look at that tread Jeeves. Jeeves can you see?"
I responded that I could hardly miss the rubber given the size of the tyres and stood patiently while Master got his kicks. I took a picture of the tractor, which was to be numbered and titled "763, Double Tyred, Dark Green, Pure sex" in Master's mink lined album that he hid from customs in a hidden pouch, encased in talcum powder, in his suitcase both to and from Vegas
After several hours of "perving", I managed to persuade Master that weightier matters needed attending to on his day off. Such as making arrangements to go home, and sending blog 21 that I had just written for him when, en route to the lifts we came a cross a corridor
"Look Jeeves, empty"
I could hardly miss the fact that it was empty
"Picture Jeeves, perfect for the blog"
I did as I was told and wondered how I could make an interesting bon mot out of an empty corridor on the rest day of the WSOP main event. Sadly, it failed even my literary talents. I took a second picture to flesh the blog out though.
Later that Day as Master trundled down a slightly less empty corridor to play the Rio deepie, in which he was to secure his third largest cash of the trip in a $20 last longer with the former politest man in poker , we spotted RED-DOG with his new charabanc
and tried in vain not to call out "Wingardium Leviosa" and "Obliviate" at Harry Potter as he wandered past us
In truth, it is a time of mixed emotions. Master wants to be home, but wants to be in Vegas. I want to be home, but once again face the Jobseekers queues when we do return
Much rides on Mr Kimpet, to make it past Day 3, and onto the cash, and thence into the final Nine for a trip back in November. All being well, i reckon I would get asked back for that. If only because I know the secret of the Mink lined tractor book with annotations. Would be worth a fortune if it fell into the wrong hands.
We'll know later today, but as I write Master sleeps. Phrases such as "Can never be too careful Kimpet" "No need to flip Kimpet" "Grind Kimpet Grind" keep being uttered as he tosses and turns, betraying the nerves my Master so successfully tries to hide in the course of consuming 16 lattes, 40 Embassy Kings, 23 trips to the Urinals and six Choux buns a day.