We met for our 6AM playing session and again the table was empty. We took our spots. Skinny had three good rolls consistently hitting in the teens and with Come betting, we made money on him. Surprisingly Stickman was still not doing well.

And I had another, you guessed it, 22 roll with two other mid-teen rolls.

After our three turns with the dice, we went to breakfast, happy with those orange chips clicking in our pockets. And that's when he came in.

The guy was definitely a homeless bum; I could tell by his clothing and that demented look on his withered face.

"Some homeless guy just came in," I said, nodding over towards him where he was picking at the buffet with his bare hands.

"He's not homeless," said Skinny. "How could he get in here?"

"He's not homeless," said Stickman confidently but I knew he was thinking: But I am sure he will be homeless when you write about him.

Now, here is a problem I sometimes have with my friends - they think I exaggerate my stories; although not the stories they are in. These they know are right on the money.

When all of us were on our cruise to Alaska, AP and I had a close encounter with a whale - which jumped out of the water, about a foot or so from our boat, and I could have touched her had I reached out. When I told this to Stickman and his wife, Skinny and his wife, the Goddess and Sandtrap, Raging Baritone and his wife, they all agreed the whale probably jumped out of the water but that I was exaggerating how close to the boat the thing came.

What could I say? I swore; AP swore, but my friends said "Nope, it is an exaggeration," (by the way, there has never been an "exaggeration" they can actually point to!).

Then, as the Good Lord would have it in defending my veracity, a video was shown on the ship's screens, in all the rooms, in every cabin, of this monstrous whale jumping out of the water, within a foot or so of the boat, with people screaming, water splashing - and so close to those of us on the rail that you could put your hand out and touch the barnacles on its belly. We then received a picture from a passenger who had been on the ship which also showed the jump.

No exaggeration there!

So back to the homeless man.

He probably got into the buffet because the ladies at the entrance often engaged themselves in conversation, not looking to see if anyone was sneaking in. Since just about all people were honest and called over to them, it was no big deal - except Homey the Homeless had slipped in.

"He's not homeless," reiterated Skinny as we departed the restaurant.

"He's not homeless," reiterated Stickman as we departed the restaurant.

I went to the bathroom and when I came out.

"He is homeless," said Stickman. "The security guards just escorted him out."

"Yeah, I guess he is homeless," said Skinny. "But how did he sneak in?"

I explained my theory. It seemed to fit the unexaggerated facts.

So we decided to play another session since the craps table was still empty. As I was shooting who should show up but Homey the Homeless. He bought in with a dirty, crumpled twenty-dollar bill. He stayed at the end of the table on my side but every so often he would inch over towards Stickman, who started to cover his chips with his hand.

As unadorned, unexaggerated fate would have it - I rolled another 22 and we decided to leave the table because Homey the Homeless seemed to want to grab some of Stickman's chips. Homey the Homeless was now standing right next to him, crowding him.

Then we went to Pai Gow and had the worst session I have ever experienced at that game. In two hours, I won one hand and pushed maybe six hands - I lost all the others. Stickman did slightly better; I think he won three hands and pushed maybe a dozen, losing all the rest. Skinny also took a beating but I don't know how many hands he won, pushed, or lost as I was too busy licking my bloody wounds to count.

We staggered off the table, saying things like "Oh, man," "Oh, shit," "I can't believe that!"

We then found a quiet place to sit, a banquet room on the second floor that was empty but had tables set up, and we lamented our Pai Gow pummeling. After we moaned, groaned and lamented our Pai Gow destruction, we went to lunch, where we lamented some more.

After lunch we meandered around, watching some construction that was taking place, and then we headed to blackjack. We would play three shoes, about 45 minutes, and then head over to Pai Gow again - we would not play craps until after dinner.

Blackjack was okay. I won a little; Stickman lost a little; Skinny lost just a little more. Then Pai Gow again and this time the game played as it usually does - we won some, lost some, pushed some and all of us came away with small wins. Then it was nap time to be followed by Belvedere at 5:30.

At the steakhouse we told the Maitre'd about our Odyssey of the previous day and she said, "You were the Three Kings of Atlantic City looking for your star!" Not bad, we were the Three Kings of Atlantic City, not a bad description at all.

We went to the craps tables after dinner.

I exploded!

I had two good rolls in the high teens and then (without any exaggeration) this: 9, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 9, 4, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 4, 9, 10, 9, 8, 8, 7-out.

The comments:

"Don't you know to throw anything but eights," laughed the Indian dealer.

"My God, I never saw anything like this!" shouted the player at the end over by Skinny.

"Wow!" clapped the box man.

"Is anyone not betting the eight?" joked another player.

There were cheers and screams and loud acclamations of "Amazing! Unbelievable! Holy shit!"

After I sevened-out thunderous applause, I said to Stickman, "Tell me I rolled another twenty-two."

No," he said. "You rolled a twenty three!"

Then we headed over to blackjack where I hammered the casino in three shoes. I couldn't lose. Unfortunately, Skinny and Stickman did lose at blackjack.

Then it was time for a good night's sleep. Sadly, when I travel now, I rarely get a good night's sleep. I'll go to bed at 9 or 10 o'clock and wake up at 3AM and that's it.