CASINOS in & near AMARILLO, TEXAS - 2021 up-to-date list

TL;DR: Man with too much time on his hands goes deep down the rabbit hole on a concept this sub already didn’t seem that enthusiastic about. If you really want to skip ahead, CTRL+F “verdict” and it’ll get you there.
Two days ago, u/MrPhillyj2wns made a post asking whether USL should launch a D1 league in order to compete in Concacaf. From the top voted replies, it appears this made a lot of people very angry and has been widely regarded as a bad move.
But I’ve been at home for eight weeks and I am terribly, terribly bored.
So, I present to you this overview of what the USL pyramid might look like if Jake Edwards got a head of steam and attempted to establish a USSF-sanctioned first division. This is by no means an endorsement of such a proposal or even a suggestion that USL SHOULD do such a thing. It is merely an examination of whether they COULD.
Welcome to the ~~Thunderdome~~ USL Premiership
First, there are some base-level assumptions we must make in this exercise, because it makes me feel more scientific and not like a guy who wrote this on Sunday while watching the Belarusian Premier League (Go BATE Borisov!).

All D1 teams must comply with known USSF requirements for D1 leagues (more on that later).
MLS, not liking this move, will immediately remove all directly-owned affiliate clubs from the USL structure (this does not include hybrid ownerships, like San Antonio FC – NYCFC). This removes all MLS2 teams but will not affect Colorado Springs, Reno, RGVFC and San Antonio.
The USL will attempt to maintain both the USL Championship and USL League One, with an eventual mind toward creating the pro/rel paradise that is promised in Relegations 3:16.
All of my research regarding facility size and ownership net worth is correct – this is probably the biggest leap of faith we have to make, since googling “NAME net worth” and “CITY richest people” doesn’t seem guaranteed to return accurate results.
The most a club can increase its available seating capacity to meet D1 requirements in a current stadium is no more than 1,500 seats (10% of the required 15,000). If they need to add more, they’ll need a new facility.
Let’s pretend that people are VERY willing to sell. It’s commonly acknowledged that the USL is a more financially feasible route to owning a soccer club than in MLS (c.f. MLS-Charlotte’s reported $325 million expansion fee) and the USSF has some very strict requirements for D1 sanctioning. It becomes pretty apparent when googling a lot of team’s owners that this requirement isn’t met, so let’s assume everyone that can’t sells to people who meet the requirements.

(Known) USSF D1 league requirements:
- League must have 12 teams to apply and 14 teams by year three
- Majority owner must have a net worth of $40 million, and the ownership group must have a total net worth of $70 million. The value of an owned stadium is not considered when calculating this value.
- Must have teams located in the Eastern, Central and Pacific time zones
- 75% of league’s teams must be based in markets with at a metro population of at least 1 million people.
- All league stadiums must have a capacity of at least 15,000
The ideal club candidate for the USL Premiership will meet the population and capacity requirements in its current ground, which will have a grass playing surface. Of the USL Championship’s 27 independent/hybrid affiliate clubs, I did not find one club that meets all these criteria as they currently stand.
Regarding turf fields, the USSF does not have a formal policy regarding the ideal playing surface but it is generally acknowledged that grass is superior to turf. 6 of 26 MLS stadiums utilize turf, or roughly 23% of stadiums. We’ll hold a similar restriction for our top flight, so 2-3 of our top flight clubs can have turf fields. Seem fair?
Capacity is going to be the biggest issue, since the disparity between current requirements for the second-tier (5,000) and the first tier (15,000) is a pretty massive gap. Nice club you have there, triple your capacity and you’re onto something. As a result, I have taken the liberty of relocating certain (read: nearly all) clubs to new grounds, trying my utmost to keep those clubs in their current markets and –importantly--, ensure they play on grass surfaces.
So, let’s do a case-by-case evaluation and see if we can put together 12-14 teams that meet the potential requirements, because what else do you have to do?
For each club’s breakdown, anything that represents a chance from what is currently true will be underlined.
Candidate: Birmingham Legion FC
Location (Metro population): Birmingham, Ala. (1,151,801)
Time zone: Central
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Legion Field (FieldTurf, 71,594)
Potential owner: Stephens Family (reported net worth $4 billion)
Notes: Birmingham has a pretty strong candidacy. Having ditched the 5,000-seater BBVA Field for Legion Field, which sits 2.4 miles away, they’ve tapped into the city’s soccer history. Legion Field hosted portions of both the men’s and women’s tournaments at the 1996 Olympics, including a 3-1 U.S. loss to Argentina that saw 83,183 pack the house. The Harbert family seemed like strong ownership contenders, but since the death of matriarch Marguerite Harbert in 2015, it’s unclear where the wealth in the family is concentrated, so the Stephens seem like a better candidate. The only real knock that I can think of is that we really want to avoid having clubs play on turf, so I’d say they’re on the bubble of our platonic ideal USL Prem.
Candidate: Charleston Battery
Location (Metro population): Charleston, S.C. (713,000)
Time zone: Eastern
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Johnson Hagood Stadium (Grass, ~14,700)
Potential owner: Anita Zucker (reported net worth $3 billion)
Notes: Charleston’s candidacy isn’t looking great. Already disadvantaged due to its undersized metro population, a move across the Cooper River to Johnson Hagood Stadium is cutting it close in terms of capacity. The stadium, home to The Citadel’s football team, used to seat 21,000, before 9,300 seats on the eastern grandstand were torn down in 2017 to deal with lead paint that had been used in their construction. Renovation plans include adding 3,000 seats back in, which could hit 15,000 if they bumped it to 3,300, but throw in a required sale by HCFC, LLC (led by content-creation platform founder Rob Salvatore) to chemical magnate Anita Zucker, and you’ll see there’s a lot of ifs and ands in this proposal.
Candidate: Charlotte Independence
Location (Metro population): Charlotte, N.C. (2,569, 213)
Time zone: Eastern
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Jerry Richardson Stadium (Turf, 15,314)
Potential owner: James Goodnight (reported net worth $9.1 billion)
Notes: Charlotte ticks a lot of the boxes. A move from the Sportsplex at Matthews to UNC-Charlotte’s Jerry Richardson stadium meets capacity requirements, but puts them on to the dreaded turf. Regrettably, nearby American Legion Memorial Stadium only seats 10,500, despite a grass playing surface. With a sizeable metro population (sixth-largest in the USL Championship) and a possible owner in software billionaire James Goodnight, you’ve got some options here. The biggest problem likely lies in direct competition for market share against a much better-funded MLS Charlotte side due to join the league in 2021.
Candidate: Hartford Athletic
Location (Metro population): Hartford, Conn. (1,214,295)
Time zone: Eastern
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Pratt & Whitney Stadium (Grass, 38,066)
Potential owner: Ray Dalio (reported net worth $18.4 billion)
Notes: Okay, I cheated a bit here, having to relocate Hartford to Pratt & Whitney Stadium, which is technically in East Hartford, Conn. I don’t know enough about the area to know if there’s some kind of massive beef between the two cities, but the club has history there, having played seven games in 2019 while Dillon Stadium underwent renovations. If the group of local businessmen that currently own the club manage to attract Dalio to the table, we’re on to something.
Candidate: Indy Eleven
Location (Metro population): Indianapolis, Ind. (2,048,703)
Time zone: Eastern
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Lucas Oil Stadium (Turf, 62,421)
Potential owner: Jim Irsay (reported net worth of $3 billion)
Notes: Indy Eleven are a club that are SO CLOSE to being an ideal candidate – if it weren’t for Lucas Oil Stadium’s turf playing surface. Still, there’s a lot to like in this bid. I’m not going to lie, I have no idea what current owner and founder Ersal Ozdemir is worth, but it seems like there might be cause for concern. A sale to Irsay, who also owns the NFL Indianapolis (nee Baltimore) Colts, seems likely to keep the franchise there, rather than make a half-mile move to 14,230 capacity Victory Field where the AAA Indianapolis Indians play and expand from there.
Candidate: Louisville City FC
Location (Metro population): Louisville, Ky. (1,297,310)
Time zone: Eastern
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Lynn Family Stadium (Grass, 14,000, possibly expandable to 20,000)
Potential owner: Wayne Hughes (reported net worth $2.8 billion)
Notes: I’m stretching things a bit here. Lynn Family stadium is currently listed as having 11,700 capacity that’s expandable to 14,000, but they’ve said that the ground could hold as many as 20,000 with additional construction, which might be enough to grant them a temporary waiver from USSF. If the stadium is a no-go, then there’s always Cardinal Stadium, home to the University of Louisville’s football team, which seats 65,000 but is turf. Either way, it seems like a sale to someone like Public Storage founder Wayne Hughes will be necessary to ensure the club has enough capital.
Candidate: Memphis 901 FC
Location (Metro population): Memphis, Tenn. (1,348,260)
Time zone: Central
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Liberty Bowl Stadium (Turf, 58,325)
Potential owner: Fred Smith (reported net worth $3 billion)
Notes: Unfortunately for Memphis, AutoZone Park’s 10,000 seats won’t cut it at the D1 level. With its urban location, it would likely prove tough to renovate, as well. Liberty Bowl Stadium more than meets the need, but will involve the use of the dreaded turf. As far as an owner goes, FedEx founder Fred Smith seems like a good local option.
Candidate: Miami FC, “The”
Location (Metro population): Miami, Fla. (6,158,824)
Time zone: Eastern
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Riccardo Silva Stadium (FieldTurf, 20,000)
Potential owner: Riccardo Silva (reported net worth $1 billion)
Notes: Well, well, well, Silva might get his wish for top-flight soccer, after all. He’s got the money, he’s got the metro, and his ground has the capacity. There is the nagging issue of the turf, though. Hard Rock Stadium might present a solution, including a capacity of 64,767 and a grass playing surface. It is worth noting, however, that this is the first profile where I didn’t have to find a new potential owner for a club.
Candidate: North Carolina FC
Location (Metro population): Durham, N.C. (1,214,516 in The Triangle)
Time zone: Eastern
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Carter-Finley Stadium (Grass/Turf, 57,583)
Potential owner: Steve Malik (precise net worth unknown) / Dennis Gillings (reported net worth of $1.7 billion)
Notes: We have our first “relocation” in North Carolina FC, who were forced to trade Cary’s 10,000-seat WakeMed Soccer Park for Carter-Finley Stadium in Durham, home of the NC State Wolfpack and 57,583 of their closest friends. The move is a whopping 3.1 miles, thanks to the close-knit hub that exists between Cary, Durham and Raleigh. Carter-Finley might be my favorite of the stadium moves in this exercise. The field is grass, but the sidelines are artificial turf. Weird, right? Either way, it was good enough for Juventus to play a friendly against Chivas de Guadalajara there in 2011. Maybe the move would be pushed for by new owner and medical magnate Dennis Gillings, whose British roots might inspire him to get involved in the Beautiful Game. Straight up, though, I couldn’t find a net worth for current owner Steve Malik, though he did sell his company MedFusion for $91 million in 2010, then bought it back for an undisclosed amount and sold it again for $43 million last November. I don’t know if Malik has the juice to meet D1 requirements, but I suspect he’s close.
Candidate: Pittsburgh Riverhounds SC
Location (Metro population): Pittsburgh, Penn. (2,362,453)
Time zone: Eastern
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Heinz Field (Grass, 64,450)
Potential owner: Henry Hillman (reported net worth $2.5 billion)
Notes: I don’t know a ton about the Riverhounds, but this move in particular feels like depriving a pretty blue-collar club from its roots. Highmark Stadium is a no-go from a seating perspective, but the Steelers’ home stadium at Heinz Field would more than meet the requirements and have a grass surface that was large enough to be sanctioned for a FIFA friendly between the U.S. WNT and Costa Rica in 2015. As for an owner, Tuffy Shallenberger (first ballot owner name HOF) doesn’t seem to fit the USSF bill, but legendary Pittsburgh industrialist Henry Hillman might. I’m sure you’re asking, why not the Rooney Family, if they’ll play at Heinz Field? I’ll tell you: I honestly can’t seem to pin down a value for the family. The Steelers are valued at a little over a billion and rumors persist that Dan Rooney is worth $500 million, but I’m not sure. I guess the Rooneys would work too, but it’s a definite departure from an owner in Shallenberger who was described by one journalist as a guy who “wears boots, jeans, a sweater and a trucker hat.”
Candidate: Saint Louis FC
Location (Metro population): St. Louis, Mo. (2,807,338)
Time zone: Central
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Busch Stadium (Grass, 45,494)
Potential owner: William DeWitt Jr. (reported net worth $4 billion)
Notes: Saint Louis has some weirdness in making the jump to D1. Current CEO Jim Kavanaugh is an owner of the MLS side that will begin play in 2022. The club’s current ground at West Community Stadium isn’t big enough, but perhaps a timely sale to Cardinals owner William DeWitt Jr. could see the club playing games at Busch Stadium, which has a well established history of hosting other sports like hockey, college football and soccer (most recently a U.S. WNT friendly against New Zealand in 2019). The competition with another MLS franchise wouldn’t be ideal, like Charlotte, but with a big enough population and cross marketing from the Cardinals, maybe there’s a winner here. Wacko idea: If Busch doesn’t pan out, send them to The Dome. Sure, it’s a 60k turf closed-in stadium, but we can go for that retro NASL feel and pay homage to our nation’s soccer history.
Candidate: Tampa Bay Rowdies
Location (Metro population): Tampa, Fla. (3,068,511)
Time zone: Eastern
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Raymond James Stadium (Grass, 65,518)
Potential owner: Edward DeBartolo Jr. (reported net worth $3 billion)
Notes: This one makes me sad. Despite having never been there, I see Al Lang Stadium as an iconic part of the Rowdies experience. Current owner Bill Edwards proposed an expansion to 18,000 seats in 2016, but the move seems to have stalled out. Frustrated with the city’s lack of action, Edwards sells to one-time San Francisco 49ers owner Edward DeBartolo Jr., who uses his old NFL connections to secure a cushy lease at the home of the Buccaneers in Ray Jay, the site of a 3-1 thrashing of Antigua and Barbuda during the United States’ 2014 World Cup Qualifying campaign.
Breather. Hey, we finished the Eastern Conference teams. Why are you still reading this? Why am I still writing it? Time is a meaningless construct in 2020 my friends, we are adrift in the void, fueled only by brief flashes of what once was and what may yet still be.
Candidate: Austin Bold FC
Location (Metro population): Austin, Texas (2,168,316)
Time zone: Central
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Darrel K Royal – Texas Memorial Stadium (FieldTurf, 95,594)
Potential owner: Michael Dell (reported net worth of $32.3 billion)
Notes: Anthony Precourt’s Austin FC has some unexpected competition and it comes in the form of tech magnate Michael Dell. Dell, were he to buy the club, would be one of the richest owners on our list and could flash his cash in the new first division. Would he have enough to convince Darrel K Royal – Texas Memorial Stadium (I’m not kidding, that’s its actual name) to go back to a grass surface, like it did from ’96-’08? That’s between Dell and nearly 100,000 UT football fans, but everything can be had for the right price.
Candidate: Colorado Springs Switchbacks FC
Location (Metro population): Colorado Springs, Colo. (738,939)
Time zone: Mountain
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Falcon Stadium (FieldTurf, 46,692)
Potential owner: Charles Ergen (reported net worth $10.8 billion)
Notes: Welcome to Colorado Springs. We have hurdles. For the first time in 12 candidates, we’re back below the desired 1 million metro population mark. Colorado Springs actually plans to build a $35 million, 8,000 seat venue downtown that will be perfect for soccer, but in our timeline that’s 7,000 seats short. Enter Falcon Stadium, home of the Air Force Academy Falcons football team. Seems perfect except for the turf, right? Well, the tricky thing is that Falcon Stadium is technically on an active military base and is (I believe) government property. Challenges to getting in and out of the ground aside, the military tends to have a pretty grim view of government property being used by for-profit enterprises. Maybe Charles Ergen, founder and chairman of Dish Network, would be able to grease the right wheels, but you can go ahead and throw this into the “doubtful” category. It’s a shame, too. 6,035 feet of elevation is one hell of a home-field advantage.
Candidate: El Paso Locomotive FC
Location: El Paso, Texas
Time zone: Mountain
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Sun Bowl (FieldTurf, 51,500)
Potential owner: Paul Foster (reported net worth $1.7 billion)
Notes: God bless Texas. When compiling this list, I found so many of the theoretical stadium replacements were nearly serviceable by high school football fields. That’s insane, right? Anyway, Locomotive don’t have to settle for one of those, they’ve got the Sun Bowl, which had its capacity reduced in 2001 to a paltry 51,500 (from 52,000) specifically to accommodate soccer. Sure, it’s a turf surface, but what does new owner Paul Foster (who is only the 1,477th wealthiest man in the world, per Forbes) care, he’s got a team in a top league. Side note: Did you know that the Sun Bowl college football game is officially, through sponsorship, the Tony the Tiger Sun Bowl? Why is it not the Frosted Flakes Sun Bowl? Why is the cereal mascot the promotional name of the football game? What are you doing, Kellogg’s?
Candidate: Las Vegas Lights FC
Location: Las Vegas, Nev. (2,227,053)
Time zone: Pacific
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Allegiant Stadium (Grass, 61,000)
Potential owner: Sheldon Adelson (reported net worth $37.7 billion)
Notes: Sin City. You had to know that the club that once signed Freddy Adu because “why not” was going to go all out in our flashy hypothetical proposal. Thanks to my narrative control of this whole thing, they have. Adelson is the second-richest owner in the league and has decided to do everything first class. That includes using the new Raiders stadium in nearby unincorporated Paradise, Nevada, and spending boatloads on high profile transfers. Zlatan is coming back to the U.S., confirmed.
Candidate: New Mexico United
Location: Albuquerque, N.M.
Time zone: Mountain
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Isotopes Park – officially Rio Grande Credit Union Field at Isotopes Park (Grass, 13,500 – 15,000 with expansion)
Potential owner: Maloof Family (reported net worth $1 billion)
Notes: New Mexico from its inception went deep on the community vibe, and I’ve tried to replicate that in this bid. The home field of Rio Grande Cr---I’m not typing out the whole thing—Isotopes Park falls just within the expansion rules we set to make it to 15,000 (weird, right?) and they’ve found a great local ownership group in the Lebanese-American Maloof (formerly Maalouf) family from Las Vegas. The only thing to worry about would be the metro population, but overall, this could be one of the gems of USL Prem.
Candidate: Oklahoma City Energy FC
Location: Oklahoma City, Okla. (1,396,445)
Time zone: Central
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Chickasaw Bricktown Ballpark (Grass, 13,066)
Potential owner: Harold Hamm (reported net worth $14.2 billion)
Notes: There’s a bright golden haze on the meadow and it says it’s time to change stadiums and owners to make it to D1. A sale to oil magnate Harold Hamm would give the club the finances it needs, but Chickasaw Bricktown Ballpark (home of the OKC Dodgers) actually falls outside of the boundary of what would meet capacity if 1,500 seats were added. Could the club pull off a move to Gaylord Family Oklahoma Memorial Stadium in Norman, Oklahoma – home of the Oklahoma Sooners? Maybe, but at 20 miles, this would be a reach.
Candidate: Orange County SC
Location: Irvine, Calif. (3,176, 000 in Orange County)
Time zone: Pacific
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Angels Stadium of Anaheim (Grass, 43,250)
Potential owner: Arte Moreno (reported net worth $3.3 billion)
Notes: You’ll never convince me that Rangers didn’t choose to partner with Orange County based primarily on its name. Either way, a sale to MLB Angels owner Arte Moreno produces a fruitful partnership, with the owner choosing to play his newest club out of the existing Angels stadium in OC. Another baseball conversion, sure, but with a metro population of over 3 million and the closest thing this hypothetical league has to an LA market, who’s complaining?
Candidate: Phoenix Rising FC
Location: Phoenix, Ariz. (4,857,962)
Time zone: Arizona
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): State Farm Stadium (Grass, 63,400)
Potential owner: Ernest Garcia II (reported net worth $5.7 billion)
Notes: We’re keeping it local with new owner and used car guru Ernest Garcia II. His dad owned a liquor store and he dropped out of college, which is making me feel amazing about my life choices right now. Casino Arizona Field is great, but State Farm Stadium is a grass surface that hosted the 2019 Gold Cup semifinal, so it’s a clear winner. Throw in Phoenix’s massive metro population and this one looks like a lock.
Candidate: Reno 1868 FC
Location: Reno, Nev. (425,417)
Time zone: Pacific
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Mackay Stadium (FieldTurf, 30,000)
Potential owner: Nancy Walton Laurie (reported net worth $7.1 billion)
Notes: The Biggest Little City on Earth has some serious barriers to overcome, thanks to its low metro population. A sale to Walmart heiress Nancy Walton Laurie and 1.6 mile-move to Mackay Stadium to split space with the University of Nevada, Reno makes this bid competitive, but the turf surface is another knock against it.
Candidate: Rio Grande Valley FC
Location: Edinburg, Texas (900,304)
Time zone: Central
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): McAllen Memorial Stadium (FieldTurf, 13,500 – 15,000 with expansion)
Potential owner: Alice Louise Walton (reported net worth $45 billion)
Notes: Yes, I have a second straight Walmart heiress on the list. She was the first thing that popped up when I googled “McAllen Texas richest people.” The family rivalry has spurred Walton to buy a club as well, moving them 10 miles to McAllen Memorial Stadium which, as I alluded to earlier, is a straight up high school football stadium with a full color scoreboard. Toss in an additional 1,500 seats and you’ve met the minimum, despite the turf playing surface.
Candidate: San Antonio FC
Location: San Antonio, Texas (2,550,960)
Time zone: Central
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Alamodome (FieldTurf, 64,000)
Potential owner: Red McCombs (reported net worth $1.6 billion)
Notes: I wanted to keep SAFC in the Spurs family, since the franchise is valued at $1.8 billion. That said, I didn’t let the Rooneys own the Riverhounds based on the Steelers’ value and it felt wrong to change the rules, so bring on Clear Channel co-founder Red McCombs. Toyota Field isn’t viable in the first division, but for the Alamodome, which was built in 1993 in hopes of attracting an NFL franchise (and never did), San Antonio can finally claim having *a* national football league team in its town (contingent on your definition of football). Now if only we could do something about that turf…
Candidate: San Diego Loyal SC
Location: San Diego, Calif. (3,317,749)
Time zone: Pacific
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): SDCCU Stadium (formerly Qualcomm) (Grass, 70,561)
Potential owner: Phil Mickelson (reported net worth $91 million)
Notes: Yes, golf’s Phil Mickelson. The existing ownership group didn’t seem to have the wherewithal to meet requirements, and Phil seemed to slot right in. As an athlete himself, he might be interesting in the new challenges of a top flight soccer team. Toss in a move to the former home of the chargers and you might have a basis for tremendous community support.
Candidate: FC Tulsa
Location: Tulsa, Okla. (991,561)
Time zone: Central
Stadium (playing surface, capacity): Skelly Field at H.A. Chapman Stadium (FieldTurf, 30,000)
Potential owner: George Kaiser ($10 billion)
Notes: I’m a fan of FC Tulsa’s rebrand, but if they want to make the first division, more changes are necessary. A sale to Tulsa native and one of the 100 richest men in the world George Kaiser means that funding is guaranteed. A move to Chapman Stadium would provide the necessary seats, despite the turf field. While the undersize population might be an issue at first glance, it’s hard to imagine U.S. Soccer not granting a waiver over a less than a 10k miss from the mark.
And that’s it! You made it. Those are all of the independent/hybrid affiliates in the USL Championship, which means that it’s time for our…
VERDICT: As an expert who has studied this issue for almost an entire day now, I am prepared to pronounce which USL Championships could be most ‘ready” for a jump to the USL Prem. A reminder that of the 27 clubs surveyed, 0 of them met our ideal criteria (proper ownership $, metro population, 15,000+ stadium with grass field).
Two of them, however, met almost all of those criteria: Indy Eleven and Miami FC. Those two clubs may use up two of our three available turf fields right from the outset, but the other factors they hit (particularly Silva’s ownership of Miami) makes them difficult, if not impossible to ignore for the top flight.
But who fill in the rest of the slots? Meet the entire 14-team USL Premier League:
Hartford Athletic
Indy Eleven
Louisville City FC
Miami FC
North Carolina FC
Pittsburgh Riverhounds SC
Tampa Bay Rowdies
Saint Louis FC
San Antonio FC
New Mexico United
Phoenix Rising FC
Las Vegas Lights FC
Orange County SC
San Diego Loyal SC
Now, I shall provide my expert rationale for each club’s inclusion/exclusion, which can be roughly broken down into four categories.
Firm “yes”
Hartford Athletic: It’s a good market size with a solid stadium. With a decent investor and good community support, you’ve got potential here.
Indy Eleven: The turf at Lucas Oil Stadium is no reason to turn down a 62,421 venue and a metro population of over 2 million.
Louisville City FC: Why doesn’t the 2017 & 2018 USL Cup champion deserve a crack at the top flight? They have the market size, and with a bit of expansion have the stadium at their own SSS. LCFC, you’re in.
Miami FC, “The”: Our other blue-chip recruit on the basis of ownership value, market size and stadium capacity. Yes, that field is turf, but how could you snub Silva’s chance to claim victory as the first division 1 club soccer team to play in Miami?
Pittsburgh Riverhounds SC: Pittsburgh sacrificed a lot to be here (according to my arbitrary calculations). Their market size and the potential boon of soccer at Heinz Field is an important inclusion to the league.
Saint Louis FC: Willie hears your “Busch League” jokes, Willie don’t care. A huge market size, combined with the absence of an NFL franchise creates opportunity. Competition with the MLS side, sure, but St. Louis has serious soccer history and we’re willing to bet it can support two clubs.
Tampa Bay Rowdies: With a huge population and a massive stadium waiting nearby, Tampa Bay seems like too good of an opportunity to pass up for the USL Prem.
Las Vegas Lights FC: Ostentatious, massive and well-financed, Las Vegas Lights FC is everything that the USL Premier League would need to assert that it didn’t intend to play second fiddle to MLS. Players will need to be kept on a short leash, but this is a hard market to pass up on.
Phoenix Rising FC: Huge population, big grass field available nearby and a solid history of success in recent years. No brainer.
San Diego Loyal SC: New club? Yes, massive population in a market that recently lost an absolutely huge sports presence? Also yes. This could be the USL Prem’s Seattle.
Cautious “yes”
New Mexico United: You have to take a chance on New Mexico United. The club set the league on fire with its social media presence and its weight in the community when it entered the league last season. The market may be slightly under USSF’s desired 1 million, but fervent support (and the ability to continue to use Isotopes Park) shouldn’t be discounted.
North Carolina FC: Carter-Finley’s mixed grass/turf surface is a barrier, to be sure, but the 57,000+ seats it offers (and being enough to offset other fully-turf offerings) is enough to put it in the black.
Orange County SC: It’s a top-tier club playing in a MLB stadium. I know it seems unlikely that USSF would approve something like that, but believe me when I say “it could happen.” Orange County is a massive market and California likely needs two clubs in the top flight.
San Antonio FC: Our third and only voluntary inclusion to the turf fields in the first division, we’re counting on San Antonio’s size and massive potential stadium to see it through.
Cautious “no”
Birmingham Legion FC: The town has solid soccer history and a huge potential venue, but the turf playing surface puts it on the outside looking in.
Memphis 901 FC: Like Birmingham, not much to dislike here outside of the turf playing surface at the larger playing venue.
Austin Bold FC: See the other two above.
FC Tulsa: Everything’s just a little bit off with this one. Market’s slightly too small, stadium has turf. Just not enough to put it over the top.
Firm “no”
Charleston Battery: Small metro and a small potential new stadium? It’s tough to say yes to the risk.
Charlotte Independence: A small new stadium and the possibility of having to compete with an organization that just paid over $300 million to join MLS means it’s best for this club to remain in the USL Championship.
Colorado Springs Switchbacks FC: When a club’s best chance to meet a capacity requirement is to host games at a venue controlled by the military, that doesn’t speak well to a club’s chances.
El Paso Locomotive FC: An undersized market and a turf field that meets capacity requirements is the death knell for this one.
Oklahoma City Energy FC: Having to expand a baseball field to meet requirements is a bad start. Having to potentially play 20 miles away from your main market is even worse.
Reno 1868 FC: Population nearly a half-million short of the federation’s requirements AND a turf field at the hypothetical new stadium makes impossible to say yes to this bid.
Rio Grande Valley FC: All the seat expansions in the world can’t hide the fact that McAllen Memorial Stadium is a high school stadium through and through.
Here’s who’s left in the 11-team Championship:
Birmingham Legion FC
Charleston Battery
Charlotte Independence
Memphis 901 FC
Austin Bold FC
Colorado Springs Switchbacks FC
El Paso Locomotive FC
Oklahoma City Energy FC
Reno 1868 FC
Rio Grande Valley FC
FC Tulsa
With MLS folding the six affiliates it has in USL League One, the league is a little bit thin (especially considering USSF’s requirements for 8 teams for lower level leagues), but seems definitely able to expand up to the necessary numbers with Edwards’ allusions to five new additions this year:
Chattanooga Red Wolves SC
Forward Madison FC
Greenville Triumph SC
Union Omaha
Richmond Kickers
South Georgia Tormenta
FC Tucson
Format of Assorted Leagues – This (like everything in this post) is pure conjecture on my part, but here are my thoughts on how these leagues might function in a first year while waiting for additional expansion.
USL Premier – We’ll steal from the 12-team Scottish Premiership. Each club plays the other 11 clubs 3 times, with either one or two home matches against each side. When each club has played 33 matches, the top six and bottom six separate, with every club playing an additional five matches (against each other team in its group). The top club wins the league. The bottom club is automatically relegated. The second-bottom club will enter a two-legged playoff against someone (see below) from the championship playoffs.
USL Championship -- 11 clubs is a challenge to schedule for. How about every club plays everyone else three times (either one or two home matches against each side)? Top four clubs make the playoffs, which are decided by two-legged playoffs. The winner automatically goes up. I need feedback on the second part – is it better to have the runner-up from the playoffs face the second-bottom club from the Premiership, or should the winner of the third-place match-up get the chance to face them to keep drama going in both playoff series? As for relegation, we can clearly only send down the last place club while the third division is so small.
USL League One – While the league is so small, it doesn’t seem reasonable to have the clubs play as many matches as the higher divisions. Each club could play the other six clubs four times – twice at home and twice away – for a very equitable 24-match regular season, which would help restrict costs and still provide a chance to determine a clear winner. Whoever finishes top of the table goes up.
And there you have it, a hypothetical look at how the USL could build a D1 league right now. All it would take is a new stadium for almost the entire league and new owners for all but one of the 27 clubs, who wouldn’t feel that their property would be massively devalued if they got relegated.
Well that’s our show. I’m curious to see what you think of all of this, especially anything that you think I may have overlooked (I’m sure there’s plenty). Anyway, I hope you’re all staying safe and well.

DEMOLITION DAYS, Part 47

continuing
As I was picking myself up off the shooter’s shack floor, I glanced over to the TV.
The ballplayers were all wandering around the field, looking skyward. Evidently, there was this hellacious explosion…even the television sports commentators were speculating as to what happened.
Whoops.
I looked out into the quarry. The wall that I had charged had receded some 75 feet.
There was rather a large amount of shattered, blasted dolomitic limestone now in the quarry. Enough, I found out later, for a full month’s worth of orders.
We never did find the blasting mats. I think they sort of evaporated.
Luckily, the quarry is essentially an open amphitheater in plan view; basically a big hole in the ground with vertical limestone walls. The shockwave of the blast that didn’t spend itself shattering the limestone into which it was housed, blew out laterally, hit the opposite quarry wall, rebounded, and then dispersed, rather energetically, vertically upward.
I set off car alarms for a 20 block radius.
There were no broken home windows, as the lion’s share of the shock wave was redirected upward.
Good thing there were no low flying zeppelins or dirigibles in the area...
I waited the requisite time to allow for any loafers. There were none, so I jumped into the nearest wheel loader and began clearing the quarry floor. Hell, I had to so I could open the front gate.
As I was clearing the floor, making pile number eight of the loose rock I had liberated, I heard the characteristic whoop-whoop of emergency vehicles.
I parked the wheel loader, opened the front gate, and raised the green flag. That was enough blasting for one day.
A few minutes later, three police cars zoom into the site. Two were local city cops, and one was a state trooper.
“Hi, guys!” I waved, “Nice day, innit?”
“Doctor Rock! We should have known.” One of the local boys groaned.
“Hey, I did call you beforehand, as per procedure,” I said.
Polack the cop walks up, just knowing I was responsible. “Yeah, but we didn’t figure on you terrorizing the entire city.”
“Polack! How goes it?” I asked.
The other local cop and the state trooper look to Polack, “You know this maniac?”
“Oh, hell yeah. For years. Don’t worry, the good doctor is mostly harmless.” He chuckles.
“Damn. OK. I guess everything’s OK. Just no more shooting today, please, Doctor. It’s going to take hours to calm everyone down.” He laments.
“Yes, sir. I’m done for the day.” I reply, snickering slightly.
The one local and state trooper depart, shaking their heads in amazement. This left Polack to follow me over to the shooter’s shack to mooch a cigar and whatever else he can find.
“Jesus Hula-Dancing Christ, Rock. What the hell was that? I was all the way out in Whitewatosa and heard you.” He asks as he sneakily snakes a smoke out of my case.
“Just some common chemicals in the proper proportions.” I snicker.
“Which were?” he asks.
I go in the back of the shed and toss him an empty container of one of the parts of the binaries I used. He catches it, reads the label, and drops it like a live grenade.
“Binaries? Fuck! Like what you used at the tower?” he asks.
“Yep. I used just a little more.” I reply.
“Little more? Damn, as I said, we’ve been briefed on the stuff. This shit’s nasty.” He shakes his head.
“Yeah. Fun, too.” I reply.
Polack grabs a Sprechler’s Cream Soda out of the fridge as I opt for a cold Cream Ale and shot of potato juice. Hell, I was done for the day, so…
We sit around and have a chat, just shooting the shit, as it were. Manly topics, so the conversation eventually steered over to guns.
“Hey!” Polack remembers, “That’s right! You fucking owe me. Let me borrow that fucking cannon you carry. I want to show the chief a thing or two.”
“Yeah, that’s right”, I agree, “When do you need it?”
“This Friday, after shift. It’s the monthly qualifiers for us.” He notes.
“Are pyromaniacs allowed in?” I ask.
“To observe? Sure. To shoot? Nope. Insurance regulations.” He says.
“What time?” I continue.
“1800 hours.” He tells me.
“I’ll be there. I’ll bring my gun and an assortment of loads. Hey, this could be fun!” I evilly smile.
“Doctor. You’re doing that thing again. You’re grinnin’ like a shithouse rat. You know how much that scares me. Stop it.” He pleads.
“No worries. Friday at 1800 hours.” I reply, grinning.
Polack slurps down his Sprechlers, snitches another stogie, and squeals out of the quarry in a cloud of dense dolomitic dust.
I arrive back at our flat, after stopping for two frozen custard Turtle Sundaes, to go. I give one to an appreciative wife and I ask her about her day.
“Oh, went shopping with Oma. Got the cutest shoes, and a new purse, and…oh well, never mind. You’ll see.”
Between bites of Turtle Sundae, she asks how my day went.
“Oh, my dear. I had a real blast.” I replied, not lying in the least.
Monday, after my first classes, I’m back in the faculty lounge, savoring a Greenland Coffee.
There was the usual instructor chatter when Dean Vermiculari walks in.
“Good morning, Dean!” I say. “Care for a sit-down and a coffee?”
“Good morning, Doctor Rock. Yes, please to both.” He replies.
I fix us both a fresh Greenland Coffee and return to our table. I hand him one and sit down to savor my soupçon.
“How was your weekend?” I ask the Dean of the College.
“Oh, very nice. Had a fine time catching some perch and crappie out on Lake Genever. I see you had a victorious weekend as well. Twice.” He smiles.
“Twice?” I asked.
“Well, your handling of the tower demolition made all the papers. Very, very well done, Doctor. I congratulate you.” He smiles.
“Thank you, Dean. That means a lot. Just doing what I can with what I’ve got. But twice?” I replied.
“It wasn’t front-page news, but I saw there was some, well, let us just say, ‘energetic activity’ out at the Silurian reef limestone quarry yesterday.” He grinned.
“Oh, yes. I had a job to do and well, as I always say: ‘Nothing succeeds like excess.” I smile back.
“Quite. This beverage you’ve created is really rather extraordinary, Doctor. Again, I thank you.” He tips his mug my direction in the age-old Midwestern salute.
“It’s a little recipe I picked up on my last expedition to the northlands. I grew rather fond of the concoction.” I replied.
“Ah, I see. Marvelous.” He smiles.
“Thank you, Dean. High praise indeed.” I reply.
“Which leads me to…ah, Doctor Rock. I have another favor to impose upon you.” He says, all serious.
“Yes, Dean? How can I be of service?” I ask.
“We, as you no doubt know, have many, many fine extractive mineral company connections. We actually receive quite a large amount of funding and endowments from them. They recruit here extensively for our young geoscientists. Now, since Dr. Pataariki has left for industry himself, I would like to appoint you as the College of Natural Sciences corporate liaison.” He explains.
“Indeed?” I replied, too stunned for words for once.
“Yes, indeed.” He continues, “It will require travel, mostly domestic, and delivering symposia at various companies on differing extractive geological subjects. You will also serve as host and university coordinator when they are present on recruiting tours. There will, of course, be additional remuneration to accompany the added responsibilities.”
I slurped my coffee, thinking furiously.
“Could I please first discuss it with my wife before I answer?” I ask.
“Oh, Doctor. Of course, of course. Take your time. I will not require a reply until… tomorrow.” He smiles, finishes his coffee, thanks me again, and toddles out.
“Yow, Es!” I exclaim, “This is one hell of an opportunity. It’s never before been offered to a junior professor. This will cement my tenure-track. It’s going to be a bitch with time, though. What do you think I should do?”
“Well, Rock, honey, I think you should do…” Es begins.
“No! None of that ‘do what you think is best’ stuff. I want your own thoughts, just like when I decided to go after my doctorate.” I explained.
“OK, then.” Esme looks all serious like she’s going to deliver a bipartisan political speech.
“Yes.” She says, firmly
“That’s it?” I ask.
“Yep. You asked I answered. We’ll make it work. We always do. You can’t let the Dean down. You will accept tomorrow without fear or qualms of your wife’s hesitations, of which I harbor none.” Esme proclaims.
“Did I ever tell you of the myriad reasons I love you so?” I ask.
The next morning I meet with Dean Vermiculari. He’s pleased that I accept and hands over to me the charter. Then the lists of company representatives, their contact information, and some other secret stuff that I can’t divulge right yet.
A raft of oil companies will be coming in the late spring semester, so I need to contact each and every one to solidify dates, times and positions for which they’re recruiting. But that’s for then, I have something more proximal for now.
I have a Friday appointment with Polack the cop at the town police shooting range.
I arrive spot on time with my Casull .454 Magnum pistol, in its carry bag, along with a small duffel crammed with Pyrodex, Tannerite, and selection of specialty loads I had Herman the German, the inveterate gunsmith, create.
Herman the German, his actual sobriquet, was this incredible gunsmith, craftsman, and all-around artillery specialist. Have any sort of problem with a rifle, shotgun, or pistol? See Herman. Gun holding too high? See Herman. Barrel warped? See Herman. Need solid gold projectiles for a certain one-off job? See Herman.
Herman the German can sort it out.
Just never ask him: “How?”
“Ach! I’ve lived so long to learn, and you want it free? I’ll fix it, you pay, but I am only one knowing how!”
Herman was a cranky old Kraut, and has lived here for as long as anyone can remember. Even my Grandfather had deferred to Herman when he had some particularly delicate machining operation that need special attention and was unique.
As far as anyone knew, Herman had no family, but was never at a loss for friends. He was one of the most popular, and well known, but still oddly really unknown, kind of mysterious, old bastards in the entire community.
Herman the German liked me because I could obtain for him certain high-energy things he couldn’t. All were entirely legal, but some were sort of out there in the gray zone.
He also liked that I was educated, as he held education in the highest esteem. He also liked that I was of German extraction myself.
I often made it a point to drop by with odd and unusual high-octane potables while never expecting anything in return other than a story or a shared cigar.
Herman created some special loads for my .454 Magnum, which he prized.
“I like your gun, Doctor Rock, it is so big! I can still see well enough to build things for it.” He told me one day over cheroots and Schnapps.
Herman was a character to be certain. It must have been the pixie in him to dream up some of the specialty rounds he created for me to share with the local constabulary.
He lived out in the county by himself in an old farmhouse. He had a full machine shop in his basement, complete with forge, metal handling equipment, and a firing test range.
He handed back my .454, rather solemnly.
“Doctor, I am afraid to say I couldn’t test all the special rounds I’ve created for you. I need to patch the hole in the cinder blocks in the downstairs range. Your gun punched right through the back…” he apologized.
Now, Herman does all sorts of work on the local’s deer rifles, the police’s ordinance and has even worked some with the Baja Canada National Guard. Some of the little novelties he’s dreamed up for me are the first to escape his homemade basement test range.
I felt oddly honored.
After proving who I was to the nice range officer, I looked around trying to find Polack.
“It’s 1550. Where the hell is Polack? I wondered.
“Rock! Over here.” Polack calls to me.
He motions me outside to the police department’s tactical outdoor range. I had thought all along he was referring to the indoors police target range. This might pose some problems.
The tactical range was a series of clapboard shacks, all setup and designed to represent some downtrodden urban inter-city landscape. There were a couple of junked cars, broken sidewalks, storefronts, houses, bus stops…in short, all things necessary to replicate the seediest sections of a settlement where malefactors live and breed.
The cops all run around this range, shooting at bad guy pop-up cut-outs and avoid the not-bad-guy pop-up cut-outs. They’ve got music blaring, firecrackers going off, all trying to re-create a shady deeply urban environment. Points are awarded by the accuracy of fire on the run, time to maneuver the course, and the ability of not gunning down innocent bystanders.
It is not the best place to test a .454 Cusall. This hand cannon recoils like a fundamentalist Christian being solicited for donations to Anton LaVey, shoots flames and incandescent gasses like Smaug after a hard night of drinking and a stop at the Taco Bell buffet, is louder than a dime-store Karen demanding to see a Manager, and more powerful than a Ghost Pepper suppository.
To quote Joe Piscopo: “It shoots through schools.” Especially faux-schools made of plywood.
A .32 or .38 cop special is the correct weapon here; even a 9mm is a little heavy. Enough power to make a serious dent, easy on control, light on the recoil…a good tactical weapon.
But, nothing succeeds like excess.
Polack’s Chief is running around, capping off his ‘big ol’ .44 Magnum, and making the valley echo. He punches considerable holes in the pop-up cut-outs, but has such a hard time handling the recoil, his score is barely passable.
Polack runs his test with his standard 9mm sidearm and qualifies easily. However, he’s nowhere near done with his Chief yet.
I suggest to Polack we have a shoot-off. And since a .44 Magnum bullet ‘is so close to a .454 Magnum’, which it isn’t…the .454 Casull generates nearly 85% more recoil energy than the .44 Magnum; that we’d need something other than holes punched in plywood to judge the efficacy of each.
We are literally just down the road from Max Yazzer’s farm and market. They’re the place you go for your Halloween jack-o-lantern. However, now, he has a surplus of melons.
I think you can see where this is headed…
I borrow Polack’s personal conveyance and run down to Max’s farm. I return with a trunk-load of elderly, overripe, cheap as chips, melons. Watermelons, Honeydews, Musks, and Casabas.
We place them in strategic areas on the course, five for the Chief to find, and five for Polack.
A .44 vs. a .454 melon-wise results in pretty much the same sort of mess: high-velocity fruit spatter. Although, the Chief was very impressed by the report of the .454. So, after running the tactical-melon course, clear demarcation of a winner was elusive.
OK, OK, clever dicks. How about this? A standing shoot-off? We’ll set up 3 melons each at 30, 20, and 10 yards. Beginning at 30 yards, your time will be until you take out all three melons. But, they’re not going to be in a straight line, we’re going to make them somewhat camouflaged. You will stand in one small demarcated area, hunt those miscreant melons, and bring them to justice. Fastest time and greatest display wins, as determined by the Police Peanut Gallery.
Polack and the Chief agree.
The Chief goes first and dispatches the melons, with a fair amount of spatter, in 15.3 seconds.
Not bad.
Polack is next. He wipes out all the melons and creates some thoroughly impressive displays with Herman’s ‘special’ rounds. Normal ballistics for the .454 are, for a 250 grain (16 g) bullet, a muzzle velocity of over 2,400 feet per second, developing up to 2,800 ft-lb of energy.
Herman’s hot loads are double that.
Polack wins the day on impressive high-velocity melon distribution, but misses, so close, with a time of 17.0 seconds.
Recoil’s a bitch.
Then there are Herman’s ‘specialties’.
The Chief is duly impressed and even comments that his ears are ringing even with the ear protectors. He asks to inspect the weapon. He is even more than duly impressed.
Polack knows what’s up and asks the Chief if he’d like to give a whirl.
Of course, the Chief can’t back down.
Polack loads the .454 with 5 of Herman’s specialties: hollow-point rounds loaded hot, compressed, and tipped with alkaline earth metals, like metallic sodium and metallic potassium…
We set up the nastiest, glorpiest, just barely-holding-together, overripe, laced with Tannerite (an impact-actuated low-explosive) watermelon at the ‘Concealed Carry’ distance of 5 meters.
We slowly fade back into the distance to avoid the inevitable ‘Gallagher reaction’.
The Chief fires one, and just nicks the top of the melon. Don’t laugh, with the type of recoil and heft of the sidearm, and tensing up in anticipation, it’s easy to be off the mark initially.
The second round impacts dead-center. Now, alkaline earth metals and water don’t get along really well. In fact, their relationship is explosive. Especially explosive when delivered at 2,900 feet per second.
The Chief catches a huge smattering of vitamin-packed watermelony back blast goo.
He’s not entirely happy. He looks positively grisly with all that blown-up melon schmoo on his nice, neat uniform.
He returns my gun and bans me from ever showing up at the police range again.
Polack is on traffic duty for the next month.
He figures it was well worth it.
Back at the flat, Esme is shaking her head and wondering if I’ll ever grow up.
“I may grow old, but I’ll never grow up.” I reply.
I see I have several missed phone calls. Ah, me; no rest for the weary. Back to company-university liaison duties.
After I had contacted these companies, I receive no less than 12 requests for symposia, talks, and seminars to be given to various level of industrial scientific employees in their respective companies.
I am now slated to give academic conferences on stratigraphy, sedimentology, and seismic structural geology to different companies in Houston, Oklahoma City, Denver, Casper, Corpus Christi, New Orleans, and Tulsa. In the next 12 weeks, I’ll be giving no less than 8 talks in seven cities.
I speak with Dean Vermiculari on how best to handle the situation. He understands and appoints two graduate student teaching assistants to handle my classes while I’m on the road. That relieves me of being physically there, but I still have to grade papers, compose lesson plans, and keep things running smoothly until finals.
Besides giving the talks, there’s travel to oil fields, production facilitates, manufacturing plants, hotels, restaurants while I’m in town…the pace is excruciating. I’m gone more than I am at university. Plus in my time back home, I’m still the ad hoc master blaster for the limestone quarry.
Then, there’s the companies arriving on campus, and the roles are reversed. Now I’m the welcome wagon and have to sort out the logistics of receiving the company representatives. I need to set up the colloquia to introduce the companies to the prospective students, arrange lodging, arrange passes for the university, transportation, “Meet-and-Greet’s, ad infinitum.
I knew this was having a bit of effect on me when I came back to the flat after one particularly grueling ordeal of canceled flights, full hotels, missed connections and lukewarm reception by the company workers.
“Hello”, I said, as I walked in the flat, “I believe you have a reservation for…”
Esme just stood there, wondering if I was having a laugh.
No, I wasn’t. I was completely hallucinating from road weariness, lack of sleep, jet lag, and total disorientation. This continued on for the next approximately 18 months.
Esme was beginning to have second thoughts about all this.
My teaching load was diminished by one whole introductory course. However, I was still flying hither and yon, delivering symposia, meeting with young geoscientists and getting to know the ins-and-outs of the Oil Industry.
I found it particularly fascinating.
Time marched on and it was once again it was the recruiting season. We had no less than eight oil companies visiting the university in their quest to swell the roster of their junior scientists.
I’m still busier than a one-armed paperhanger in a windstorm, but have settled into a groove of sorts. I know the company recruiters and they now know me. I’ve actually struck up friendships with several. Particularly since I take them to the best local restaurants and bars after their recruiting duties are finished.
I’ve met with recruiting representatives of Shrill Petrol, Mexxon, Nobil, Nocono Oil, Flug, Geddy, Brutish Petroleum, and Qexaco.
The recruiting season is winding down and I find myself with Red (not Adair), of Nocono Oil.
“Well, Doctor Rock”, Red states, “Another fine recruiting run. We’ve snagged two of your young geologists and one geophysicist. I’d say it was almost a perfect score.”
We’re sitting in the Norton’s Steakhouse. After a couple of prime pink porterhouses, we’re working on the post-dinner double vodka and bitter lemon for me, and Lagavulin for Red.
“Almost perfect?” I ask.
“Yeah. There’s been this one small nagging concern from our company higher-ups.” Red continues.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“We need some more senior people. For one thing, we’ve recently opened a new petroleum laboratory down in our Houston office. Going to need some serious talent to run that show.” Red says.
“I see”, I reply, “And…?”
“We need mentors. Those with varied and far-flung knowledge. They must be well educated, global in experience and stature, with an [ahem] diverse set of skills.” Red notes.
“Whew”, I agree, “That’s a tall order. You want my help with names of possible candidates? Is that it?”
“Not as such, Doctor.” Red drains his drink, motions for me to do the same, and orders another round.
Our drinks arrive and Red downs half his in one gulp.
“Well, then”, I continue, “How can I help?”
Red chuckles, “For someone so educated, you can really be thick as two short planks at times.”
I sit back, and sip my Old Thought Provoker.
The mercury-vapors light off.
“No!” I say, incredulously.
“Oh, yes.” Red smiles.
“No?” I ask, slowly taking in the possible effects of what he’s hinting at…
“OK, Doctor Rocknocker”, Red gets all serious and corporate, “We’d like to offer you a position at Nocono Oil as Senior Laboratory Manager and Head of Corporate Continuing Education.”
You could have knocked me over with a grenade. I was stunned. I fumbled with my drink.
“Red, you old con artist” I reply, “Is this a set-up?”
Red, serious as a heart attack, looks directly at me and replies, “Doctor Rock, absolutely not, it’s a genuine offer.”
He slides over a folder with some papers inside. “Here are the particulars.”
Reeling, I accept the folder. I open it and right after the corporate logos and legal bullshit, I see a tall figure with a whole raft of zeros trailing behind it.
I read furiously. The job would be both interesting and challenging. It would be in Houston, with travel and teaching at all other company outposts on a regular basis. I reexamine that figure from before and verify that I’m not now hallucinating.
The job comes with furnished, corporate-paid housing, incredible benefits, loads of opportunity for advancement, more opportunity to travel, really generous vacation time…
“Right. On the level?” I ask again.
“Yep.” Red bluntly says.
“Well”, I gulp, “you know I have to discuss this with Esme”, whom he’s met several times previous.
“Of course, and you probably want to finish out the semester, correct?” red asks.
“Oh, yes.” I reply. There would be a monsoon of paperwork and other grunt work I’d need to conclude or hand over if I were to accept this offer.
“OK, then”, Red finishes his drink, motions for me to do the same, a real rarity; but I was in another dimension at this point. He orders another round and sits back, waiting on a refill.
“You have two weeks to reply” Red states.
“I know that’s not a terribly long time, but we need to fill this position ASAP. Can I ask for that? Your answer, yea, or nay, within a fortnight?” Red demands.
“Yes”, I reply. “I at least owe you that.”
And that was the end of the discussion for the night about me joining the private sector. We stayed a few more hours, chatting, smoking my cigars, and discussing everything but the lumbering elephant in the room.
We part outside as I need to head back to our flat. Red wants to go downtown to one of those “Gentleman’s Clubs” he’s heard were so famous at the time.
I was flummoxed the whole cab ride home.
It was late when I returned, but I simply had to wake Es with the news.
“Rock, for pity’s sake, its 2 o’clock in the morning!” Es protests. “Can’t this wait until later?”
“Sorry, my dear” I reply, probably as serious as I ever had with Esme. “This is a potential game-changer.”
“What is it? Are you OK?” Esme trembles.
“Oh, I’m fine. Better than fine.” I reply.
She’s relieved.
“Then what’s so important?” she asks.
“Um…how would you like to move to Houston?” I ask.
“You going to teach at Cougar High (University of Houston)?” she inquires.
“Nope. Brace yourself. I’ve been offered a job with Nocono Oil.” I finally spill the beans.
Esme is slightly stunned and sits down.
I go to the wet bar, fix me a bracing potato juice and citrus and Esme a stiff white Zinfandel.
I hand her the wine and she is still semi-dazed and digesting the information.
I slurp a good portion of my drink, retrieve her Sobranjes and me a cigar from my Turkmenistan humidor.
I sit on the couch next to her and hug her soundly.
“Esme? Es? Earth to Es? You in there?” I joke.
“Oh, Yeah. Rock. Really? Hang on”, she leaves, returning with her housecoat as this might take a little time.
“So?” I ask, “Your thoughts. Now! Immediately! Initial reaction!” I try to jar her back into reality.
“Well, what do you want?” she asks.
“C’mon, my dearest. You know I hate that. No, what do you think? What do you honestly think?” I reply.
We both fire up our smokes, and I refresh our drinks. We return to the dinner table where Red’s folder lies.
“Es, here. Look at this.” I say, sliding the portfolio over to her.
She reads like a hungry man at a Vegas casino buffet. I can tell where she was stopped by something extraordinary.
“This is for real?” she asks, “Red’s not pulling a fast one?”
“Nope. It’s the genuine article”, I tell her, “He needs my reply within two weeks.”
“Rock, Rock…I just don’t know. It’s a lot to process at 0230 in the morning. Let’s go to bed and have a think in the morning. You have the luxury of at least that amount of time.” She notes.
“Right again, as usual”, I say, “Stuff it. It can wait.” We toddle off to bed.
The next morning, over Cuban omelets and Greenland Coffees, we sort through the particulars.
“Rock, it’s an extraordinary offer. But, do you want to leave teaching? I remember how you got all animated by Dean Vermiculari giving you the corporate liaison job and how that would improve your shot at tenure.” She notes.
“I just don’t know. I’m still shell-shocked.” I tell her. “Let me go to school and we’ll pick this up tonight. We both have work to do no matter what. Oh, bloody hell. I hadn’t considered your job. Another wrinkle in the mess.”
“Don’t you worry about that”, Esme smiles. “One catastrophe at a time.”
“I do so love you.” I hug her soundly. “Think I should mention this offer to anyone at school?”
“No. Definitely not.” Esme shakes her head. “Let’s figure this out on our own.”
“I agree”, I say, kiss her and depart for school once again.
The next week was a blur. Recruiting duties were dragging and I was being preoccupied.
Even my students noted the lack of in-room explosions lately.
I spend the next Saturday at the quarry, doing some small amount of blasting. I quiz the quarry owners about their progress in acquiring a new master for the quarry’s operation.
“Oh, Doctor Rock” they gush, “You’re doing such a fine job, we haven’t really looked. Why do you ask?”
“No particular reason at this time, I reply, “But perhaps you might want to begin looking”
The chinks in my armor were finally starting to show.
Sunday was spent out on Sliver Lake, with Esme and me chasing the elusive crappie, perch, and bucketmouth bass. It also gave us a chance to clear our heads from work, school and other such intrusions. We both needed a bit of downtime.
Later that night, after a meal of beer-battered fillet of crappie and perch on the barbie, we sit down at the dinner table.
The portfolio sits there, taunting us.
I get up, makes us both our drinks, sit down and declare that this is it.
“Es, darling” I say, “its nut-cuttin’ time. We need to make our decision.”
“You’re right.” Es agrees, “Time for risk-reward analysis. Get some paper and some pencils.”
We spend the next few hours listing the pros and cons of accepting the Houston position or staying here and pursuing my tenured professorship.
After several hours, I stretch, stand, and go to the fridge. I retrieve the bottle of Bollinger Les Vieilles Vignes Francaises I had purchased the other day.
I return to the table with the wine and the glasses, pop the cork and pour us both a glass of high-brow bubble water.
I hug and kiss Esme like I had just returned from a long, solo expedition.
“Esme, my darling. I’d like to propose a toast. First to us. Hа здоровый!”
“Cheers!” Esme replies.
“Secondly to Red, Dean Vermiculari, the quarry guys, Polack the Cop, and all the others that makes our life weird around here.”
“Seconded”, Es echoes.
“Finally: to Houston, Texas. Our new home!” I finally add.
The next morning, Dean Vermiculari peers over the top of his pince-nez glasses. He’s not looking overly happy with me right now.
“Why is it, Doctor, that everyone that receives the job of corporate liaison ends up going with corporate?” he asks.
“Perhaps it’s just the exposure to another world that exists beyond academia.” I reply, truthfully.
“Doctor Rocknocker,” the Dean gravely states, “I am not at all happy about your decision. We had great hopes for you here and you were riding right up the tenure track. Another five years and it would have been assured.”
“Five years is a long time, Dean”, I state the obvious.
“Yes, indeed.” The Dean replies frostily. “However, you are young. Perhaps you need to get this private sector nonsense out of your system, then you can return to academia where you belong.”
“Perhaps, perhaps”, I reply.
“Please, do consider this option down the road. You and your antics will be missed here, by students and faculty alike.” He says.
“I will, Dean, I promise.” I reply “However, for now, it’s time for my boot heels to be wanderin’.”
“Doctor, I will miss your strange and unique way of looking at life. I reluctantly accept your resignation at the end of the current semester and wish you all the best in your newest endeavors. Please remember us when corporate support for academia is mentioned in your new company.” he says.
“I promise you, Dean, I will not forget what I’ve learned here and what you’ve taught. It’s the least I can do,” I reply. “I will never forget my roots.”
“All I can ask”, he concludes. He stands to shake my hand. We shake and my audience is over.
I resign from the quarry a week later. They haven’t found a new blaster but wish me well on my new journey. I tell them I’m here until the end of the semester, so I won’t leave them high and dry.
I tell Polack the Cop about all the goings-on.
“Who the hell can I roust for beer and cigars now?” He whines. “Let me know when you get to Texas if they need any cops. I wouldn’t mind trying’ that. Hell, maybe a Texas Ranger!”
“A Cheesehead Ranger…?” I assure him I will and pass a box of cigars to him as a parting gift. He gives me a mayoral-signed get-out-of-jail-free card.
“Now you can drive that old Harley just as crazy as you want.” He chuckles.
“Thanks, Polack.” I say, shaking his hand. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I sold my bike a week earlier.
Red was very chuffed with the news.
“Snagged me a big one this time!’ He laughed, over the phone.
There was enough paperwork, considerations and decisions to be made to last the remaining time Esme and I had in-state until our move. Already, a moving company had arrived, done inventory, and was preparing for our move to Houston.
Esme resigned her position and decided she wanted to take some time off. She wanted to be a housewife, a colleague, and not have to work for once at an outside job. My new position allowed for that in spades. Besides with her credentials, anytime when she wants to re-join the workforce, there are myriad opportunities in the Bayou City.
We made the choice of housing out west of town, in Katy, Texas. We could have chosen Sugarland, Addicks, Greenspoint, Greenway, or the Memorial area. However, these west Houston company properties were closest to the job and largest in square footage.
My students got wind of my resignation and relocation. They threw me an unexpected farewell party at the Gast Haus. It was nickel-beer night and since they were footing the bill, it all worked out just fine.
I would miss the old place. The camaraderie, the seasons, the university; hell my home these last many years. I’ve been on many, many expeditions, but I always returned home.
Now, home was moving and was awaiting our arrival.
Esme and I said our farewells to our families as well. We were the first through college, the first ones to travel international, the first Doctor in the family, and the first to leave the state.
That’s a lot of familial firsts.
I had to keep reminding everyone it wouldn’t be the last. Hell, we’re just moving to Texas, it’s not like we’re off to Greenland or Mongolia…
[Gasp]
We saddled up Es’s old Chevy Nova, took one last, lingering look in the rearview mirror, and said fare thee well to our previous lives.
“We’ll be back. Someday. I promise” I told the city of our youth and young married adulthood.
We decided to drive to Houston because we had the luxury of a bit of time. We needed the stretch to chew over some interpersonal and private things on the way to the next chapter in our lives. Besides, the weather was good, the roads ahead open and clear, and Texas had no ‘Open Container’ law, yet.
We pointed the old Nova south and hit the gas.
A week later, we’re wandering around our new house in Katy, Texas. Our belongings, scant though they may be, arrived the day after we did. Esme and I spent the next couple of day rearranging the house, buying necessary domestic bits and pieces, and getting to know our new neighborhood.
First thing, though, Esme wanted to replace the old Nova. I concurred, but insisted we keep it as a second car and went out to purchase our first new car as a couple.
I wanted a Land Rover. We ended up with a glossy black Toyota 4-Runner. Close enough.
I was scheduled to show up at my new job the next Monday.
I had my own parking spot, complete with “Reserved for Dr. Rock” painted on the bumper block. I was shown my new lab and was introduced to my seven laboratory assistants. I was shown the catalogs I could use to order what I needed and went over the requisition procedures.
I was trotted around to meet the company CEO, CFO, CIO, VPs and many, many more company executives and managers. I’ve met with presidents and heads of state, I was impressed but not overly. They seemed like a more or less nice bunch of chaps.
Almost exactly five weeks to the day from our arrival in Houston, I come home, yelling “Darling, I’m home!”
Esme comes to greet me with a rib-rearranging hug. She tells me to sit at the dinner table, where my long hard day at the office drink, cigar, ashtray, and lighter are already set.
“How was work, dear?” she asks, sitting down with her Perrier water.
“Oh, it’s going great. The knotheads let me have an open-ended budget until I get the labs sorted just the way I want it. These guys pay their bills on time and I have carte blanche at Wards Scientific, and other supply houses. My crew is great, no interpersonal crapola, and hard workers. I can smoke in my office and no one dares give me shit about my cigars. I’m getting to know the exploration department quite well. They’re really interested in our expeditions and are more interested in my opinions of their new exploration directives.”
Esme just smiles and sips her water.
“Odd”, I thought.
“That’s great, dear.” She says. “I am so glad to hear it.”
“Me too”, I say, “How are you holding up after all these weeks alone?”
“Oh, I’m getting used to it.” She smiles.
And smiles. Beatifically. Glowing.
“What?” I ask.
“Remember what we talked about in the car on the way down here?” She asks.
“We talked about a lot of things…” I say, suddenly my eyes grew very, very wide indeed.
“Yes. You’re going to be a father. I’m pregnant, Rock.” Esme smiles.

Regression

There's something stalking the plains of West Texas

I inherited a five hundred acre ranch along with two hundred and fifty head of cattle out in West Texas from my great grandfather who passed it down the line until it eventually ended up in my hands, it was his pride an joy.
Growing up he told stories of the cowboys who rode out west settling land and setting up homes for their families, I was always awestruck at the surreal descriptions of their day to day lives and how the rugged cow pokes and the horses they rode upon were able to keep towns fed and their eventual start of rodeos and riding competitions that are still held today.
Originally my father was left with it after my grand father had passed, he moved us into it when I was still young along with my mother and my sisters, Allison and Angela. It was your typical ranch lifestyle growing up, My father would walk into my room at 4:30 in the morning waking me up to go help him feed the cattle and chickens along with the other animals we had at the time, My two younger sisters eventually were brought into the loop when they were a little bit older but were always treated like princesses but when I failed a simple task like cleaning out the barn there would be severe repercussions ranging from a beating with the belt to not getting dinner but my sisters would always sneak me some food and my mother would always try to justify why I would be the only one receiving the harsh punishments, I guess looking back on it now I understand why he was so hard on me.
We had a few extra ranch hands that helped keep everything running, I remember one of my favorite people to work with was this older gray haired guy called Pete, he had a thick handle bar mustache and looked like your typical cowboy. He'd always always have a cigarette between his lips and told stories about the natives that lived here long before us and the spirits that supposedly haunted the land, My father however didn't like it due to the fact I'd have nightmares after but the stories were what I always looked forward to when I got out of school and done with my chores.
I never really experienced any "Paranormal" events, the only thing that I had witnessed that truly left me in complete awe was when My father and I found a mutilated heifer that was torn completely in half strung up in one of the trees out in the pasture, it wasn't uncommon to find a dead cow or two but the way it was strung up in the tree defied all logical explanation.
My father was prepping me to run the ranch as a grew older but teenage me had different plans at the time. I had enlisted in the military my senior year of high school, this had pissed my father off so bad that he told me not to bother coming back once I had graduated boot camp, they were harsh words but I was used to it. When writing home I'd always get letters back from my mother who would give every detail on what happened that day or what was going on in town it always kept me in high spirits.
Before the sad events of 9/11 nothing to serious or crazy was going on in the world and the unit I was in cleaned rifles and parking lots for the majority of the time. I remember receiving a phone call from my father the day it happened, "Son, you stay safe and come back in one piece.", that was the only call I received from him for the next couple of years.
I had done a few tours over in the middle east and Afghanistan before I decided to get out, In that period of time I got married to my lovely wife Kate and had two kids of my own, two daughters, Madison and Kimberly they grew up with their mother for the most part. It was a strained relationship thanks to the constant moving and the fact I'd be gone for six months at a time, she was left to care for them while I was gone but we managed to make it work.
She was ecstatic about the news that I was leaving the military, it was around that time I was told about my father who was fighting stage 3 lung cancer. I packed the family up leaving North Carolina and headed down to Texas. We spent the remaining hours of my fathers life by his side. We talked about the crazy experiences we'd been through and how being a parent was one of the most hardest things in life.
when I was the last one in the room with him he told me something that I didn't completely understand until now. "Son, the ranch is a huge responsibility and everything you have experienced in life has lead up to you taking care of it. What ever you do, don't leave it no matter what happens Chris. Promise me that." He spoke as tears swelled in his eyes "I promise." I held his hand. His grip was weak it was no longer the hard and calloused strong hands he'd worked hard with, he eventually passed leaving behind the ranch in his will.
The will stated the ranch and it's assets would go to the eldest child of the family, that happened to be me. My younger sisters didn't care much, they had moved to different states and had families of their own and were doing quite well. Everyone came down to the ranch after my fathers funeral.
It was a typical Texan wake, there was tons of alcohol and barbecue passed around that night in honor of the hard man that was my father before leaving back to their homes. My sisters were the last to leave, they said their goodbyes leaving my family alone on the five hundred acres of open Texas plains. That was twelve years ago.
The ranch itself consisted of a two story house and a small living area for a few ranch hands on the eastern side of the property as well as a large barn and a few chicken coops and a horse stable on the south side of the house, the rest was just open arid planes filled with plenty of wildlife.
I spent most of the day tending to the livestock and helping out with the repairs to the horse stable, something had torn a few of the thick metal bars on one of the stalls from it's housing, one of the ranch hands said it was some kind of dog that had done but I just brushed it off as some wise ass telling ghost stories to the new guys or one of the hands were baked when doing the rounds and had slammed into it with something. "Take care boss!" One of the ranch hands gave me a quick wave as he headed towards a beat up ford with the rest of the ranch hands, "I'll see you all in the morning, eat a large breakfast we have a lot to do!" I yelled towards the group, they had just gotten paid and were probably going to go spend their allowance at a bar or some casino up in Oklahoma.
My two dogs, Maxim, a tan lab mix and Zeus, a spotted border collie ran around trying to round up a few cattle that had strayed to far from their herd as I took off my worn work gloves setting them on the hood of my old truck, Maxim, Zeus load up!" the two dogs came running over jumping into the bed of the truck. After a few minutes of driving I pulled up to the house.
After putting the dogs up I headed inside the house, Kate was making supper to a country tune "How's work?" She asked dancing over to me "Good, had to fix up the horse stable." She spun back around dancing back to the stove "where are the kids?" I asked noticing the lack of complaints about not having good cell service "They're still cleaning out the barn and chicken coops.".
"Honey wake up, there's something in the barn." My wife shook me violently waking me from a deep sleep "Wha... What?" I blinked a few times trying to wake up, Her red hair was a mess "There's something in the barn!" She hissed clutching my wrist with a death grip.
I quickly got dressed pulling on a jacket and my old pair of work boots. I walked over to the closet grabbing my father's lever action 30-30 along with a flashlight "I'll go check it out, stay inside." My watch showed it was 3:26 a.m. as I made my way down the hall, " Dad what was that." Madison stuck her head out of her room with a pair of head phones dangling from her neck "Go back in your room." I replied just as Kimberly exited her room "I'm scared." her voice trembled as she walked out into the hallway "Go into your mother's room." I responded quickly, they both ran into the room talking in hushed tones as I continued down the hallway towards the stairs.
Maxim and Zeus were going berserk, they were barking and straining hard against their chains trying to get to the barn, the animals we had near the house were also in a panicked state, I clicked on the flashlight it's dull orange glow illuminated the dirt path leading towards the barn. What little remains from a few dead chickens lay in front of the the barn feathers and blood were soaking into the ground, something had pulled the door open breaking the latch securing it shut.
I raised my rifle slowly entering the doorway, inside were stalls lining each side of the walls running to the back of the barn, inside were a few dairy cows I had bought a few weeks earlier. Their distraught cries filled the barn as I made my way towards the back, as I got closer I noticed a blood trail leading to one of the stalls. With a steady hand I pulled the stall door open revealing a wounded dairy cow, she had a large gash running from her hind quarter to the middle of her sternum, her entrails hung out as she lay breathing heavily in great distress as blood began to pool around her body.
I knelt down beside her resting my rifle on the stall wall placing my hand on her head "What did this to you girl?" I spoke quietly, something slammed the door shut behind me causing me to damn near jump, I scooped up my rifle and aimed it at the door "If you're out their make yourself known or you're going to get shot!" I yelled trying to keep my composure.
There was no response, I flipped the latch and swung the door open sweeping the area for any potential threats but only found a set of foot prints in the dirt covered floor leading back to the entrance, they looked K-9 in nature but were too large to be any dog or coyote that I've ever seen.
I ran back into the house slamming the door shut and locking it, "Honey, call the sheriff!" I quickly made my way back to the bedroom, Kate had her phone in hand and was talking to a dispatcher "Something broke into our barn, yes, yes please send a deputy out as soon as possible.".
I grabbed my truck keys and cellphone "I'll be back, don't let anyone inside." I grabbed the Glock-19 that I kept on the night stand and handed it to her "What's this for?" She asked confused "Honey, something got one of the dairy cows and I think it's going to get more." they were really scared now "Don't leave!" Kimberly cried "Listen, You shoot anyone that's not me or the sheriff.", "Don't leave the house, lock all the doors and windows." I gave Kate a quick kiss and headed back to the living room.
I took Maxim and Zeus off their chains and lead them to my truck opening the passenger door letting them in the cab. I slid into the driver seat and started the truck, it's large V8 engine shook the cab as it idled in the cold December air. I put the truck in drive and headed out towards the pasture to check on the live stock closest to the farmstead. After driving for a few minutes my phone rang, it was Kate "The sheriff is on his way over, what do you want me to tell him when he gets here?" Her voice was tense, I thought for a moment before answering "Tell him to meet me near the fishing pond we drink at, it's the one on the western side of the pasture, he knows what I'm talking about.", there was a small moment of silence "Alright, please be careful." she hung up the phone.
The only sounds in the truck now were coming the two panting dogs and the low hum from the radio. After a few more minutes of driving I arrived at the fishing pond a large cluster of oak trees were lined near the bank on the opposite side, the head lights from my truck illuminated a small herd of cattle bunched up near the bank of the pond, they were all letting out distressed calls as they began to move towards my direction.
The hackles on Zeus and Maxim's necks were sticking up, both of them were emitting deep guttural growls, their eyes were focused on something off in the distance, I followed their gaze but I couldn't see what they were seeing. I exited the truck leaving the dogs inside with the windows cracked cautiously making my way towards the bank. The herd was walking around me when I spotted it, two large yellow eyes piercing through the darkness at me. I glanced at one of the cattle hurrying by for a split second, it had a large chunk missing from it's right flank and a large jagged claw mark running down its rib cage. The dogs were barking wildly in the truck now as the cattle began to run in a panic, I could hear the sound of heavy foot steps getting closer and closer as I began to backpedal towards the truck.
I could barely make the outline of it as it closed the distance on all fours, adrenaline was burning through my veins as I raised the rifle and started firing at it, time seemed to speed up as I cranked the lever feeding in a new round after every shot "Why the fuck did I bring a lever action rifle?" I cursed to myself for not bringing my AR as I ripped the driver side door open trying to get in, before I was able to get a foot in the door Zeus and Maxim jumped out hitting the ground running at full speed towards the creature, "Get back here!" I yelled to no effect as they circled the monster. It was in full view now it's figure illuminated by the headlights of my trucks, it looked like a massive humanoid dog on two feet with large sharp claws.
The creature swung at Maxim and Zeus trying to get them to back off, huge plumes of smoke came from it's mouth and nostrils with each swing but they didn't budge. Zeus latched onto its hind leg causing it to let out deep cry, it swung back it Zeus sending him tumbling off into the brush this pissed off Maxim.
Maxim latched onto it's left biceps shaking his head like a deadly game of tug o' war, I continued firing into the creature's chest before he swung Maxim into my lane of fire, I immediately stopped firing fearing I'd shoot my dog. That's when I saw the flashing red and blue neon lights from a sheriff's vehicle bouncing off of the tree tops. The creature swung at Maxim hitting him on the side, this caused Maxim to yelp and release the creatures arm.
"What in gods name..." the sheriff said awe struck by the scene "Fucking shoot it!" I began firing again, one of my rounds hit it in the eye causing to stumble backwards. The sheriff began firing on it now but it seemed to make little difference as the creature got down on all fours and ran back into the darkness, "When I got called out here I wasn't expecting this." he let out a breath.
A few hours later a black SUV pulled up and two men wearing black suits asked me a series of questions regarding the event "Are you sure it wasn't a coyote?", "Have you been drinking this evening?", "Are you sure it wasn't a pack of feral hogs?" I had the same response to all of their questions, "No." they went on for another two hours before they finally questioned my wife and kids along with the sheriff, they took the only copy of the dash cam footage from the sheriff's truck and eventually left, A helicopter flew over the house out towards the pasture with a huge spot light on it circling the area for a few minutes before leaving. We sat at the dinning room table near the kitchen talking about what had transpired in the past few hours, none of us could believe it. "I've never seen anything like that before in my life." the sheriff exhaled as he took his cowboy hat off placing it on the table "Neither have I, whatever that thing was it's still out there." I responded, looking out the window towards the the moon lit pastures.
In case you were wondering Zeus and Maxim are doing fine, they were a little banged up but after a few days they were back on the job rounding up cattle like nothing happened, I hired a few more ranch hands to do nightly inspections around the pasture to make sure the cattle were not being harmed, so far it has been working. The guys were also telling me about seeing strange lights hovering over the property, I don't even want to think about what that could entail.

My name is Lindsey. I have all the issues and I'm in a rut.

My name is Lindsey. I’m from Oklahoma. I have no future. I am at a low point of my life, and I need advice. I woke up this morning and I want to change. I want to get out. I want to be someone. I recently found out I'm bipolar. My past is too much for me. This town is all I've ever known, and it's holding me back. (all the names in this story are changed)
I'll start from the beginning. All my life I've lived in this small town. My mom had me when she was 16. When I was four my dad, who is schizophrenic and bipolar, got in a fight with my mom and almost killed her, she left him and we went to go live with my grandma. We lived in an apartment village for a while but my brother’s dad, who she was pregnant with at the time, burned it down when I was 12. My mom was in the house asleep when it happened and it crazy how she survived. She got third degree burns but she and the baby were alright. We moved into my aunt’s house when my mom got out of the hospital, with my two cousins Annie and Felicia, and my mentally handicapped cousin Rex. The house reeked of feces and trash. I was raped by my cousin Rex while I was there, my cousins pulled him off but it didn’t help the pain that would always stay with me. I didn’t blame him because of how he is, but at 12 years old I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror for the longest time.
My aunt and my two cousins, my only friends at the time, got in a car wreck and died two weeks later. I remember not going to the funeral, staying home and crying all day. All I did was pray. Rex got sent to his Dad’s, and my grandma rented a house with her minimum wage job supporting us. I remember that house. We called it the cockroach house because they were everywhere. As for me, I was 13 at the time. I got chubby and I wore thick black glasses at the time and I remember the boys would always make fun of me. I hated them all, the school kids. All I did was read. I started cutting my wrists in the middle of my eighth grade year. I hated my life and I felt no one liked me.
I think that’s when my mom started to be an alcoholic. After what my brother’s dad, Jerry, did she took him back, as she will 40 more times later in life. I fucking hated Jerry. I still hate him. I remember wanting to kill him, make him suffer like he made us suffer. He treated my brother, my mom, and me like shit. He didn’t beat my brother but he beat us. My mom lost her vision in her left eye from him choking her and a blood vessel popping and ruining her eyesight. I remember her smacking my ass whenever I would walk by. I told my mom but she didn’t give a shit about me. I remember one week, sometime in my eighth grade year staying in my closet for a whole week. I wrote “Why would God do this to me” in crayon all over the walls. I was a fucked up kid.
When freshman year came around I got contacts and lost a little weight so I thought things were looking up. Mom dumped Jerry and we moved into a house in the country while my mom worked as a manager at Shell. The only bad thing is my mom was a terrible alcoholic at the time. She started hitting me and one time I had to get stitches from her hitting me on the back of the head with a beer bottle. I started smoking cigarettes and finally got my first boyfriend. His name was Michael. I thought talking to Michael made my whole situation just so much better. I never really had a boy like me and he was a senior. I made friends with twins named Katie and Kayla. The only bad thing is Jerry would still come around. My mom said she wasn’t seeing him but would I would wake up in the middle of the night I would see them having sex on the living room floor. I talked to my mom about it the next day. I went to her crying asking why she would bring him back into our life after what he’s done. She told me to shut the fuck up and she went to work. Whatever. I would talk to Michael and everything would be okay.
Fast forward to Junior Year, my favorite year of all, but one that ended the worst. We moved into town next to my grandma’s house. Gas was going up and it was expensive getting to the country and back every day. I had the greatest friends. Oh my god, they were my angels that took me out of my depression and I don’t know what I would do without them. There was Felicia, an indian girl that liked to draw just as much as I did, Kelly, a girl with pink hair that moved here from Arkansas, Chance, we called him Asian Bebier (he looked like an Asian Justin Beiber), and Mekko, Felicia’s boyfriend. The closest friend’s I’ve ever had. When I was with them it was like I wasn’t fucked up, I fit in. I had the absolute best time of my life. About this time my mom started snorting crack. I found lines of it sometimes. I saw her snorting it once and she screamed at me for walking into her room. Her and Jerry were definitley twacked out on something. She failed her job drug test and was unemployed. She started going through my bag and stealing the money that my nana would give me for lunch. It bothered me but I didn’t really need food when I had such great friends.
It all went downhill in the middle of the year. God. I hate thinking about this. Okay. It was Christmas. Mom spent the Christmas money that my grandma gave her on crack. My brother cried all day. He was probably about nine at the time. I had fifty dollars that I was saving for him a present because I knew this would happen. I went to go look for the money in my pillowcase and it was fucking GONE. I was so fucking pissed you do not understand I screamed at my mom I ran away I called social services I called my grandpa and told him to take care of my brother for a while. I absolutely spazzed out I was tired of this shit I was tired of her I was tired of living in this shitty ass dirt hole getting by on my mother’s unemployment. I was planning with Felicia’s mom to get me emancipated. Whatever my mom was she wasn’t the mom that I knew. She was worse. I remember wishing she was an alcoholic again. Alcohol didn’t change her like this shit did.
My mom completely broke down. She cried all day and I thought she changed. She begged me to help her and she promised she’d get better. She’s never came to me like this. I thought she changed… When social services came I told them nothing was wrong. I was so happy, I thought things were going to get better and I was excited to help my mom through every step. She was going to be my mom again. She said she would find a job and we were going to be a family again. I was wrong. I was so fucking stupid.
Fast forward two months later to March the 14th. My birthday. I was turning 17 years old and was ecstatic. All my friends gave me money for a present. They knew how much I needed money. My grandma gave me 100 dollars and my friends each gave me 20 dollars each. I had about 200 dollars. I was so excited! I had enough money for gas to go get my brother and money for us to eat for a week. It was going to be my birthday present. I’m crying while typing this. I can feel the pain I felt. I had a ride set up because neither my mom or my grandma gave a vehicle and was going to get my brother. I went to go get my stuff ready and it was gone. All the money was gone. All of it. I shut down. I knew my mom stole it. I just stopped getting ready. I turned off my phone. I locked my doors and windows to my room from the inside. I stole my grandma’s pain pills. I counted out 32 in the bottle. I took them all. I sat on my floor rocking back and forth crying telling my cousin’s I would see them soon. I woke up in my grandma’s arms, she was shoving her fingers down my throat trying to get me to throw up, I was dazed and I had foam running down my neck. I puked and then everything went blank again. They said I had a seizure and blacked out. My grandma was on her knees crying next to me. Jerry was in the corner of the room looking down. I woke up and my grandma hugged me so tight it hurt. I tried to hug her back but I was shaking so bad it was hard to move. She told me I was too beautiful and talented to do that to myself. I asked her where mom was. She told me she was at the casino. My mom never even spoke to me about that night. I hated her. I hated everything about her. The way she smiled when one of her friend’s came over. The way she acted like she cared about me when people were around. I went to school three days later after I attempted suicide. I was called a freak and people said I should’ve died. I didn’t give a fuck what people said. I only cared about my friends. Felicia Mekko and Chance completely ignored me. They were mad at me for trying to kill myself. They didn’t know what I was going through. I never told them. I was crushed. At least I had Kelly. I remember calling her my angel. She cared. But two weeks later she moved away back to Arkansas. She said she had no choice. Again I was plunged into depression. No hope.
Fast forward to senior year. Felicia got pregnant and moved schools and Chance moved back to his hometown also. Mekko still hasn’t talked to me since. I just moved on and blocked out my feelings. I became a brick. Nothing affected me. I just didn’t care. I started drinking every weekend and smoking weed. But this didn’t affect my schoolwork. I still graduated with a 3.5 G.P.A. I graduated two or three months ago. I’m stuck. I’m 18 years old and I can draw and play a few instuments but there’s nothing else. I live in this small ass town at my boyfriend’s grandma’s house with no vehicle. I applied to every single fucking store. I cannot get a fucking job!
What the fuck is wrong with me?! No one in my family has ever gone to college OR made it out of school without getting pregnant OR graduated with the top ten of my class. I HAVE NO FUCKING FUTURE. I want to go to college but I can’t get a job to save my life! I need a car to get away from this small ass town! I don’t know why I wrote this. I woke up this morning crying. I feel hopeless again.

I have no one to help me. What should I do? I need help.

Friends from r/offmychest suggested to go here. Here is my story.

Here is my original post from offmychest:
"My name is Lindsey Marquis. I’m from Oklahoma. I have no future. I am at a low point of my life, and I need advice. This town is all I've ever known, and it's holding me back. (all the names in this story are changed)
I'll start from the beginning. All my life I've lived in this small town. My mom had me when she was 16. When I was four my dad, who is schizophrenic and bipolar, got in a fight with my mom and almost killed her, she left him and we went to go live with my grandma. We lived in an apartment village for a while but my brother’s dad, who she was pregnant with at the time, burned it down when I was 12. My mom was in the house asleep when it happened and it crazy how she survived. She got third degree burns but she and the baby were alright. We moved into my aunt’s house when my mom got out of the hospital, with my two cousins Annie and Felicia, and my mentally handicapped cousin Rex. The house reeked of feces and trash. I was raped by my cousin Rex while I was there, my cousins pulled him off but it didn’t help the pain that would always stay with me. I didn’t blame him because of how he is, but at 12 years old I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror for the longest time. My aunt and my two cousins, my only friends at the time, got in a car wreck and died two weeks later. I remember not going to the funeral, staying home and crying all day. All I did was pray. Rex got sent to his Dad’s, and my grandma rented a house with her minimum wage job supporting us. I remember that house. We called it the cockroach house because they were everywhere. As for me, I was 13 at the time. I got chubby and I wore thick black glasses at the time and I remember the boys would always make fun of me. I hated them all, the school kids. All I did was read. I started cutting my wrists in the middle of my eighth grade year. I hated my life and I felt no one liked me. I think that’s when my mom started to be an alcoholic. After what my brother’s dad, Jerry, did she took him back, as she will 40 more times later in life. I fucking hated Jerry. I still hate him. I remember wanting to kill him, make him suffer like he made us suffer. He treated my brother, my mom, and me like shit. He didn’t beat my brother but he beat us. My mom lost her vision in her left eye from him choking her and a blood vessel popping and ruining her eyesight. I remember her smacking my ass whenever I would walk by. I told my mom but she didn’t give a shit about me. I remember one week, sometime in my eighth grade year staying in my closet for a whole week. I wrote “Why would God do this to me” in crayon all over the walls. I was a fucked up kid.
When freshman year came around I got contacts and lost a little weight so I thought things were looking up. Mom dumped Jerry and we moved into a house in the country while my mom worked as a manager at Shell. The only bad thing is my mom was a terrible alcoholic at the time. She started hitting me and one time I had to get stitches from her hitting me on the back of the head with a beer bottle. I started smoking cigarettes and finally got my first boyfriend. His name was Michael. I thought talking to Michael made my whole situation just so much better. I never really had a boy like me and he was a senior. I made friends with twins named Katie and Kayla. The only bad thing is Jerry would still come around. My mom said she wasn’t seeing him but would I would wake up in the middle of the night I would see them having sex on the living room floor. I talked to my mom about it the next day. I went to her crying asking why she would bring him back into our life after what he’s done. She told me to shut the fuck up and she went to work. Whatever. I would talk to Michael and everything would be okay.
Fast forward to Junior Year, my favorite year of all, but one that ended the worst. We moved into town next to my grandma’s house. Gas was going up and it was expensive getting to the country and back every day. I had the greatest friends. Oh my god, they were my angels that took me out of my depression and I don’t know what I would do without them. There was Felicia, an indian girl that liked to draw just as much as I did, Kelly, a girl with pink hair that moved here from Arkansas, Chance, we called him Asian Bebier (he looked like an Asian Justin Beiber), and Mekko, Felicia’s boyfriend. The closest friend’s I’ve ever had. When I was with them it was like I wasn’t fucked up, I fit in. I had the absolute best time of my life. About this time my mom started snorting crack. I found lines of it sometimes. I saw her snorting it once and she screamed at me for walking into her room. Her and Jerry were definitley twacked out on something. She failed her job drug test and was unemployed. She started going through my bag and stealing the money that my nana would give me for lunch. It bothered me but I didn’t really need food when I had such great friends. It all went downhill in the middle of the year. God. I hate thinking about this. Okay. It was Christmas. Mom spent the Christmas money that my grandma gave her on crack. My brother cried all day. He was probably about nine at the time. I had fifty dollars that I was saving for him a present because I knew this would happen. I went to go look for the money in my pillowcase and it was fucking GONE. I was so fucking pissed you do not understand I screamed at my mom I ran away I called social services I called my grandpa and told him to take care of my brother for a while. I absolutely spazzed out I was tired of this shit I was tired of her I was tired of living in this shitty ass dirt hole getting by on my mother’s unemployment. I was planning with Felicia’s mom to get me emancipated. Whatever my mom was she wasn’t the mom that I knew. She was worse. I remember wishing she was an alcoholic again. Alcohol didn’t change her like this shit did.
My mom completely broke down. She cried all day and I thought she changed. She begged me to help her and she promised she’d get better. She’s never came to me like this. I thought she changed… When social services came I told them nothing was wrong. I was so happy, I thought things were going to get better and I was excited to help my mom through every step. She was going to be my mom again. She said she would find a job and we were going to be a family again. I was wrong. I was so fucking stupid.
Fast forward two months later to March the 14th. My birthday. I was turning 17 years old and was ecstatic. All my friends gave me money for a present. They knew how much I needed money. My grandma gave me 100 dollars and my friends each gave me 20 dollars each. I had about 200 dollars. I was so excited! I had enough money for gas to go get my brother and money for us to eat for a week. It was going to be my birthday present. I’m crying while typing this. I can feel the pain I felt. I had a ride set up because neither my mom or my grandma gave a vehicle and was going to get my brother. I went to go get my stuff ready and it was gone.
All the money was gone. All of it. I shut down. I knew my mom stole it. I just stopped getting ready. I turned off my phone. I locked my doors and windows to my room from the inside. I stole my grandma’s pain pills. I counted out 32 in the bottle. I took them all. I sat on my floor rocking back and forth crying telling my cousin’s I would see them soon. I woke up in my grandma’s arms, she was shoving her fingers down my throat trying to get me to throw up, I was dazed and I had foam running down my neck. I puked and then everything went blank again. They said I had a seizure and blacked out. My grandma was on her knees crying next to me. Jerry was in the corner of the room looking down. I woke up and my grandma hugged me so tight it hurt. I tried to hug her back but I was shaking so bad it was hard to move. She told me I was too beautiful and talented to do that to myself. I asked her where mom was. She told me she was at the casino. My mom never even spoke to me about that night. I hated her. I hated everything about her. The way she smiled when one of her friend’s came over. The way she acted like she cared about me when people were around.
I went to school three days later after I attempted suicide. I was called a freak and people said I should’ve died. I didn’t give a fuck what people said. I only cared about my friends. Felicia Mekko and Chance completely ignored me. They were mad at me for trying to kill myself. They didn’t know what I was going through. I never told them. I was crushed. At least I had Kelly. I remember calling her my angel. She cared. But two weeks later she moved away back to Arkansas. She said she had no choice. Again I was plunged into depression. No hope. Fast forward to senior year. Felicia got pregnant and moved schools and Chance moved back to his hometown also. Mekko still hasn’t talked to me since.
I just moved on and blocked out my feelings. I became a brick. Nothing affected me. I just didn’t care. I started drinking every weekend and smoking weed. But this didn’t affect my schoolwork. I still graduated with a 3.5 G.P.A. I graduated two or three months ago. I’m stuck. I’m 18 years old and I can draw and play a few instuments but there’s nothing else. I live in this small ass town at my boyfriend’s grandma’s house with no vehicle. I applied to every single fucking store. What the fuck is wrong with me?! No one in my family has ever gone to college OR made it out of school without getting pregnant OR graduated with the top ten of my class. I HAVE NO FUCKING FUTURE. I want to go to college but I can’t get a job to save my life! I need a car to get away from this small ass town! I don’t know why I wrote this. I woke up this morning crying. I feel hopeless again. I have no one to help me. What should I do? I need help."
Now that you know my story, let me explain to my goals.
If you go to my profile on here there's a lot of pictures of art work that I've done during my High School career. My dream is to be an Art Teacher. I want to go to ECU because they have an amazing art program. I've always wanted to go to ECU. My goal in the next few months is to get a car. I know someone that is selling a peice of junk for 500$ down the road but I don't care I just need wheels lol! My goal after that is to take my ACT. I need gas money and 30-50$ to take the test for that. Gosh after that I'll apply. Just thinking about this makes me happy :) I'll be the first female in my family EVER to go to college! I want to turn my life into a success story. Well I guess that's it. Oh and if you decide to help which I doubt anyone will I'm just trying everything I can, I'll use some of the money to get a canvas and some paint and I'll paint you a badass painting of something original by me or anything you want! Thank you guys so much for reading my story! If you need any proof of my situation I can put a picture of my shitty ass house or my ID or my room.

[Table] I am a security officer at a Casino, AMA!

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Questions	Answers
Whats the most of amount of cash you've seen at one time? Ever tempted?	Whenever I go into the main vault, there is anywhere from 5-20 million dollars in there.
	Never tempted really.
35 minutes and 1 answer...	Sorry broski.
What's the worst thing you've seen in a casino?	A woman that thought it was lucky to shit her pants before going on the slot machines, multiple times , and she wasn't the least bit ashamed...
Maybe she also played craps? edit edit holy skidmark, this escalated quicker than I could down that bottle of laxatives	Bad dum
I play poker 2 or 3 times a week at a casino. I've heard horror stories of people being followed to their cars after cashing out big stacks of chips from other players, and it's always something that's in the back of my mind when I leave the casino.	Guys watching you from in between machines. Or following you from 20-40 feet back. Or you find yourself running into the same people over and over.
What are things to look out for when leaving the casino with a lot of cash that people might not think about?	But seriously, get security to walk you out, were most likely bored and could use something to do anyway.
I'm glad you mentioned that security is available to escort people out. But I can't remember ever self-parking in Vegas.	Yea, good point, out casino doesn't even have valet
If you tell the cashier you'll throw a guard 100 bucks to walk you to your car after hitting a jackpot they'll drop what they're doing.	To bad i would be fired for getting tips.
How long does it typically take for security to respond to an incident in a casino?	In my casino, everything is within a 120 second running distance, not including the parking lot.
	If certain codes are called, we are supposed to full out run to the area in the call. Usually multiple guards are at the area within 10 seconds.
What sort of issue would call for a full out running response?	Fights, fires, medical emergencies.
Any chance that there would be areas lacking in guards when they are called to move to an area like that?	Sometimes guards group up and talks or get called away on calls, so yea, some areas are without guards for short periods of time.
	But were just a radio call away.
Are you trained for medical emergencies?	Yes.
Theft? Someone stealing all the black chips at a table?	Yes, that as well.
Public coitus, in front of The Wizard of Oz: Ruby Slippers slot machine?	In front of the willy Wonka machine.
EMT or just First RespondeFirst Aid?	First Responders.
How'd you get the job? any intense training involved???	Had some self defence/anti-gun/knife training, same thing police get. Other than that, criminal record check and 3 separate interviews.
Out of interest how big are you? Been thinking of getting into security. I'm 6'3" and just under 250lbs but not fat except a slight belly but always feel small next to other security guys. I suppose that is just psychological on my part.	Im fat bro, 5 '10, 270 lbs. I carry it well though, so I look formidable at least. I think you would do fine.
Do you have any part of looking out for people counting cards or trying to swing the betting? If so, how do you catch them and what do you do?	Dealers and pit bosses have more training in that than I do, but i still receive some. So i hang around tables for a bit seeing if i can see the patterns. I also try and track people who throw down a lot of money in a short amount of time, money laundering etc.
What are the most effective casino game(s) to play in order to launder money?	Slots, they are watched the least.
Actually, this is not true. I am a IT architect for a major casino company and we have software that monitors and flags trends that money launderes have been known to do.	Cool, and now I know.
Somebody is crying at a slot machine. You approach them and they say "I lost spent my last $100 dollars and now I can't afford groceries or rent." What do you do?	Tell them they are an adult and should have made better decisions with their money.
Do you get perks that come with a job at the casino?	Perks? Hurm... I get to see the shows for free if im working during them, get to meet some D-list celebs. Working security, im not expected to be nice and cheery all dat. Thats always nice.
I actually really like corner gas. ID love to meet them.	They were good, down to earth people :)
Well they are still Canadian Television stars, I can't imagine that type of fame is really enough to make them all that removed from the average person's lifestyle.	True true.
Do you know what the most a dealer has been tipped where you have worked?	Person got suited triple 7s on blackjack table, won 50k, gave the dealer 5k.
Ever meet the owners? How are they?	They are nice people, in appearance, but being so filthy rich makes them disconnected from their 30K a year employees.
Also, all that CCTV footage of every single square inch of the casino floor and hotel must take up a lot of memory... How long do you hold onto it?	And memory? I have been in the main IT room before, the memory tower is about 6 feet tall, and 1.5 feet wide on all 4 sides. Looks like a computer tower but way bigger.
I once got into a fight at a las vegas casino over a guy who tried to rob me. After the cops came, I was let go because "the other guy didnt want to press charges". Before the cops left I was advised by the hotel that I was banned from the property and then issued a trespass warning by the police before i had by picture taken by some cool looking 3d camera, and then unceremoniously shoved out a back door into the 7am vegas daybreak with no sunglasses and told "good luck, your friends can collect your stuff from your room" My question is (and i think i know the answer)... are these bans for life?	For first time offences, not usually, they usually start if with a 3 month ban and move up from there, with lifetime bans occurring about 4 steps down the line.
So it's pretty much like WoW bans then.	Correct.
TIL some casino security guards possibly play WoW and knows the banning rules in the virtual world. They're human after all!	Im playing the new southpark game now, but ive dabbled in wow.
Ever catch anyone having sex in public?	In their cars outside the casino, yes.
Have you fallen asleep?	Once, on a grave shift, for 5 mins. Didnt get caught!
How many times do people try to cheat and get caught?	Ive been working at the same place for about 6 months, ive personally witnessed around a dozen people get busted in my 40/hour a week window.
	Sometimes its hard to prove, but we usually catch them pretty quicky, as surveillance, security, and the dealers all have specific training
How many people do you think you may not be catching? Would someone with inside knowledge be able to circumvent security?	I bet we are missing half of all cheaters.
	And yes.
Let's say I just left the casino with a few grand of winnings and I get mugged on my way to the parking lot or in the parking lot. Would the casino security assist me, beat down the perp, return the money, or is it in the police hands at that point? Where is that particular line drawn?	We would do everything in our power to apprehend the perp, but if he gets away, its the police
Slots.. I've always wondered can they really be 'tightened' on the weekends or during certain hours? I've heard people say slots are 'tight' in casinos but 'loose' on cruise ships. I know you're security but maybe you know- is this a thing?	Its a myth, the programming is set by the programmer where the machines are built, the casinos have no way to "tighten" or "loosen" the machines.
	They run off a random number generator that is highly illegal to tamper with.
LOL no worries ... I was just at my old property a couple days ago (I am a slot machine vendor tech now) and two former security guys are now slot techs. A barback and a shipping receiving guy both are also on the slot projects team. So maybe one day you'll get there if it appeals to you!	Totally, I would have to start at the bottom as part time again, but im looking for a way into either live games or slots.
Whats the most youve seen heard of someone losing over one night?	Roulette, around $50k. Thats the most ive witnessed.
You must work in Oklahoma. In Philly, I watched a guy lose $50k in two shoes of blackjack. In Vegas people lose far more than that.	Nope, worse, Canada.
What are you trained to do?	I call surveillance, they roll the cameras back to see if you did MJ on site (in your car etc), if you did, we serve you a year long ban card.
What do you actually do?	If you didn't, surveillance would watch you until you leave the premises, and if they seen you use or sell the drug, we would approach.
What are you trained to do?	I do what i am trained to, im that guy.
What rules are there about denying guests entry to the casino? Of course probably loud and overly-rambunctious people are probably denied, but what about chronic gamblers, similar to how a bar will kick out drunk people?	We kick out people who are intoxicated, high, underage, or have been previously banned.
	We do keep an eye out for habitual gamblers and offer them some help, but its not strongly enforced.
What are the vault codes? u know, for educational purposes.	The password is password.
I'm a security guard, just a contracted one that goes to multiple sites, and one of our sites seriously has an alarm code of 1234.	Fuck, Fort Knox up in there...
What weapons are you carrying at all times? What's the worst way you be had to use your weapons?	Handcuffs and a radio, thats all.
	I used handcuffs a handful of times. But i usually just use take downs, pressure points, and holds to subdue people.
I work for one of the most successful casinos on the east coast as a valet. You guys wear these giant red jackets so we (valets) call you guys the red coats. We generally objectify all other departments though, because we are separated outside, ourselves. How do you guys feel about the other departments?	We wear black blazers.
	Food and beverage people are drama factories, slot people are prudes, matience people are generally pretty chill, and security people sleep around and are chill.
	Those are the general stereotypes
You forgot table games... the prima donnas of the casino.	Oh Geeez, how could I forget!?
Is this a tippable situation, and if so how much?	At some casinos yes, at most, no. 1% of winnings seems to be the norm.
	Win 30k? Tip $300.
	At my casino anyhow.
Have you seen any ocean's 11-esque stuff happening?	Not anywhere close, a few people counting cards is the closest ive gotten
Remember, the good ones don't get caught.	Yepp.
How do you tell the difference between a genuine lucky streak and card counters? (assuming card counting works)	Card counting works, and there is a very specific pattern of betting that occurs, we watch them for a couple hours , sometimes over multiple days to make sure the pattern is consistent and nit just luck.
What things to do you look for that tip you off that people might be cheating?	I cant tell you specifics, but specific betting patterns, also any attempt to alter or mark cards/chips
Ever worry about lung cancer?	All the time, doctor says i may as well be smoking with all the smoke i inhale.
I was at a casino last weekend, and the guards looked bored as fuck, how do you stay awake?	On slow days? Just stay on your feet and keep walking, or go through the log program and memorize faces of banned people.
I'm confused, are people smoking in the casino or are you outside around it a lot?	There is a seperated part of the casino blocked off by a kinda-air lock. So one smoke free, one smoke filled.
Ever broken anyone's hands with a hammer or taken some to the desert and made them dig their own grave?	No.
So, I'm guessing you and Joe Pesci aren't friends.	He is my favorite character actually.
I am a professional card counteadvantage player. Often if I feel my action is getting heat I keep an eye out for security guards standing directly behind me. When that happens I cash out immediately and leave to avoid barring. Is this necessary or if surveillance considers me a threat would they just have you give me the tap on the shoulder instead of lurking behind me?	They dont approach unless absolutely sure, and security only watches until they have a hunch you are cheating, then they call surveillance and walk away, then the cameras eye is on you until you leave.
Thanks for the fast response. One more question if you don't mind- I have the right to refuse to produce my identification to surveillance or security but you have the right to escort me out... However you have the right to check my ID for legal gambling age purposes. If suspected of advantage play do they instruct security to check patrons' ID under the guise of age verification in order to have security relay to surveillance the patrons name so they can search their database of advantage players? I believe I have experienced this.	We will ask questions under the guise of a underlying motive, yes.
	And yes, we want you out of the casino if you are advantage playing, so it is win win for us, you dont show ID, we kick you out, you dont show ID, we have your name, then kick you out.
	Be reminded, you are still in the database as "unknown" if you dont produce ID, with pictures and video showing what you look like
Thanks for the info. Any really unusual characteristics they teach you to look for when identifying advantage players?	At my level of training, defensive body language when i get close, and them generally looking nervous/paranoid
Why would you be nervous when counting cards? You just made a shit ton of money and there's no risk of you getting into any legal or physical trouble.	No clue, but some of them are.
Worst reaction of someone losing their money?	Punching a machine and breaking a $3200.00 touch screen monitor
Has anyone ever done something so crazy that the casino had to make a new rule because of them?	Hurm... ill think about this and get back to you.
Oceans eleven, possible?	Eh, not really, that movie was based off of really old casinos, the new ones have better security measures.
What's the biggest, most creative cheating attempt you've ever seen? Are those grandiose heists you see in movies like Ocean's at least somewhat plausible?	Nothing clever really. A guy was convincing senile old people that he knew what machine would pay out, and said they had to pay him half if he was right, no risk, all reward, thats about the cleverest ive seen
Casino worker fist bump! (shaking hands is a no-no)	We shake hands, just gotta do the hand flip after.
Do you work for a tribal casino? If so, how do you feel about the preferential placement/treatment of tribal members as employees?	Im white, but I dont really mind the preferential treatment, I have seen a lot of racism in my neck of the woods, seems fair they should have a place where they can get a leg up.
So what exactly do you do on a daily basis? Just stand and watch? Or do you walk around?	Anything that goes in and out of the casino i supervise , money, contractors, stuff for the vending machine , im there.
	When a machine has to be opened for matinence, im there to watch.
	When a patron is breaking a rule, i enforce it.
Do you ever play anything in the casino you're security at? Are you allowed to?	Not allowed, not allowed in any casino in the provence in fact unless i am working or have special permission
Why are you doing an AMA on mobile?	Cuz im at work.
Working hard looking for those cheaters. On his mobile.	Correct sir.
Why can't we take pictures in there? We tried to take a group picture in front of slot machines and were made to delete it. If you guys are watching that closely why can't you just use discretion?	Its one of those Zero tolerance BS things, I dont agree with it, but i have to enforce it.
Have you had to deal with counterfeit chips recently? They seem to be all the rage in poker tournaments these days, especially since a well known e-commerce site actively has a Chinese vendor selling exact versions of WSOP and WPT chips. Also, do you use RFID?	We use blacklights to check, and random some kinda signal that can be picked up, they have been very popular lately, and its really lame. Because they have to go through every chip in the casino when we find one, and I have to stand there and watch for the entire 3 hour process.
This questions kind of a stretch, but have you seen or heard about any crazy ass GTA San Andreas style casino heists?	Not in my casino.
An easy way crooks get around this though is by hiring 15-20 people to play for them. I've seen shady looking pimps hand stacks of money to their "workers" and these players don't look any better either.	We can catch that at times, a guy constantly handing out money, people playing, cashing out, and handing money back to them, we can sometimes pick up on that.
(Hope you don't mind me adding to your thread, I feel like this is Vacuum repair guy all over again) We had a woman who was having a heart attack and as we were assisting her, another woman reached into the victim's purse and removed an envelope containing about $300. Humanity at its finest.	By all means lol, im feeling overwhelmed. Message me for location.
Truth: Link to imgur.com. Source: I too work in casino security.	Can confirm, I love that podium.
It's not a podium. It's supposed to be a safe that contains monies, but it really has a little Chinese dude in it that will open the large vault from the inside when they put the safe in there.	Ahhh, on mobile, the little pic looked like a podium lol.
Pride and that warm fuzzy feeling of knowing that people like you. Also bragging rights.	Sweeet!