"Try the Cheesecake"

Well, I just drove home from Vegas yesterday (Tuesday).  I have a few stories to tell (though not as many as I’d hoped for), but it will be awhile until I can get a chance to write any of them up for you.  I have a column for Ante Up due before the week is out, and not only haven’t I written any of it yet, I don’t even have a clue about what to write about.  I have to say, trying to get three blog posts a week up is getting to me.  I’m probably going to cut back on the time I spend writing posts.  I may be making other changes as well.

Anyway, this is a story from my pre-poker days, when my pal Norm and I visited Vegas a few times a year.  We played table games and ate at buffets.  I may have the order reversed.

One trip we decided to try the buffet at the Desert Inn.  The Desert Inn was one of the higher end properties on the Strip back in the day.  If you’re not familiar with it, I’ll tell you that a fellow by the name of Steve Wynn bought the property some time ago and tore it down, and replaced it with a resort called The Wynn.  How he came up with that name I’ll never know.

The D.I. was a place that Norm and I could never play at.  There were two reasons.  One, it had higher limits than we wanted to play—we were the textbook definition of low-rollers.  The other reason was that there was almost never any action in the place.  I think they made their money off their golf course and not their casino.  This was back in the day when Vegas casinos actually made almost all their money from gambling.  I guess D.I. was the model for the current Vegas blueprint, where gambling revenue is just an afterthought.  All they really want today is the parking revenue.

We decided to try their buffet because it was one of the few we hadn’t tried, and we heard it was good, and back in those days even the buffet at a fancy schmancy place like the D.I. was cheap.

And it was good, as best as I can recall.  But our server was a hoot.  He was an older gentleman with an attitude.  The attitude was that of a New York mobster. And so when he could see that we had stuffed ourselves enough with the entrees, he gave us some advice as to what we should have for dessert.

He leaned into us and said, “Try the cheesecake.” It sounded like he was giving us a hot, hush-hush tip on a horse.  It was like he was giving us secret information.  It sounded like, “Put a bundle on Epitaph in the fourth.” And it sounded like he knew Epitaph would win because he’d personally poisoned all the other horses.

Now, surprisingly enough, even though Norm and I were both generally huge fans of high-caloric food, neither one of us actually like cheesecake.  So Norm said to him, “I don’t like cheesecake.”

The waiter wasn’t listening.  He just said the same three words again.  “Try the cheesecake.”

But this time, it didn’t sound so much like a tip on a horse.  With the New York accent, the attitude, and his general persona, it didn’t really sound like a suggestion, either.  It was more like an order.  Or a demand.  It was like he said, “Try the cheesecake if you know what’s good for you.”  Or, “You will have the cheesecake.”

We again expressed our preference for not-cheesecake. So he said it again.  “Try the cheesecake.”  Each time he said it, it sounded more and more ominous.  He left, and we went to get non-cheesecake desserts.  He saw we hadn’t gotten any cheesecake and he again said, “Try the cheesecake.”  I’m pretty sure it sounded like, “Hand over you wallets.”

Finally we were ready to leave and I believe he said to us, “You should have tried the cheesecake.”  We decided he must have somehow gotten a commission on the cheesecake.

I believe we were somewhat relieved that we left the buffet without being shot, and also without having been forced to eat any cheesecake.  But the line “Try the cheesecake,” became a running gag between the two of us for years.

(Edited to Add:  Please be sure to read Norm's very different version of the incident (the first comment below). I'm sure Norm's version is the correct one, although I still think it took place at the D.I., not the Sands. Norm's always had a better memory for this sort of useless information than me).

And  speaking of cheesecake….