Amid Cent
05-19-2005, 06:42 PM
Warning! Very Long, low poker content - Don't say I didn't warn you.
So my friend MW calls me last month and says he working a trade show in Vegas this week. It’s the Gourmet show or Power Tool show or some crap I have zero interest in. Do I want to meet him there? No way. He says he doesn’t expect me to go to the show, but if I want to fly to Vegas I can crash in his hotel room. Do I want to go to Vegas and NOT have to talk to dorks about gourmet power tools? Hell Yes.
We decide to also invite BT. BT and I agree on flight plans - Burbank to Vegas to Burbank. Since he wants the miles on his credit card, I let him book the reservations on Southwest. Fast forward to this Tuesday. BT gets sick and decides he won’t be able to fly to Vegas. He calls Southwest and cancels his portion of the flight but confirms that I will be able to check in. Cool. Two hours before the flight, I print out the confirmation info to take with me to the airport. It says LAX (not Burbank) to Vegas. Fuuuuuuddddddggggeeeee (only I didn’t say Fudge). The flight leaves in two hours. Chances of getting from the Valley to LAX, parking and boarding in under than two hours? Zero. I call Southwest fast I can. Yes, there is a flight out of Burbank leaving in 90 minutes they can put me on. Perfect. It’ll be $113 to change the flight? Wha? However, if I’d like, I can use my friend’s credit from his canceled his flight and apply that to my charge. Sweet. Hop in the car and arrive at the airport with time to spare. (BTW, if you’ve never flown out of Burbank, I highly recommend it. It’s about 1000 times easier to get in and out of than LAX, and usually no traffic getting there.)
After an uneventful flight, I take a cab to the Venetian to join my buddy at a cocktail party sponsored by one of the companies presenting at the Gourmet thing. Party is at one of the restaurants that has a patio by a swimming pool. Borrrrrrringg. But at least the girl who gave me my name tag was smoking hot (SH). I say hi to my buddy, hit the bar and grab as many shrimp cocktails and I can. I join my friend and another couple at a table and find them talking about something so mind-numbingly boring that I’m starting to play no limit in my head with the shrimp. I’ve been in Vegas now for over an hour, and haven’t wagered any money. I’m starting to go a little stir crazy, and I’m about to tell my friend I’ll meet up with him later, when SH girl sits down at our table with a friend. SH is wearing a very low cut black dress with no bra. She’s also into her 6th glass of wine. I proceed to spend the next 30 minutes staring at her left breast, which is kind enough to pop out of her dress at least 5 times. At this point, I’m +3 drinks, +2 shrimp cocktails, and +5 nipple slips, and haven’t spent a dime yet. I don’t mind the dorky party quite as much. SH and her friend decide to ride the gondolas and go to In & Out. She leaves and takes her left breast with her, so MW and I decide to walk to the Bellagio.
We go straight to the poker room and put our names on the list for the 4-8. MW is a beginner and wanted me to sit at his table, so this game is a good fit for us. I take a peek at the top section, don’t see anyone I recognize other than a guy who was a dead ringer for Sklansky. Top game outdoors was 200-400, although they were playing 2000-4000 inside the glass room in the middle. We talk a walk and each make about $30 playing Pai Gow then sit down for our game.
The game was about as good as a TAG could ask for. Of the 9 other players, only one showed any real skill. Very few preflop raises, people chasing gut shots and low pocket pairs to the river. The woman immediately to my left was possibly playing for the first time ever with real money. I find out that my buddy has a long way to go in terms of poker play (I find most of this out later). First hand he posts and picks up kj clubs. Four people see a flop of AcQcx. Buddy checks and calls the flop. Turn is a blank, buddy checks then folds??? I asked him why he folded the turn, he told me the guy betting had two pair. Huh? I asked him if he knew his straight draw and flush draw would both beat two pair if they got there. His reply was, “I had a Royal Flush draw too.” Huh? I’m glad this guy is at my table, but I’m bummed my friend is a poker pussy.
In two hours, I played exactly two hands worthy of mentioning. The first, I raise UTG with AK. Learning lady to my left and one other guy call. Flop is rags, I bet – call, call. Turn is another rag, I bet – lady calls all-in, other player drops out. River is a blank, she turns over KQo, I drag the pot. I’m happy about my first pot, bummed that the ATM next to me doesn’t rebuy. Next orbit, I limp with 33 UTG. Calling station to my left who has been winning hands with absolute crap calls. Flop is 662. I come out firing, he calls. Turn is an Ace. I fire again, trying to look confident in my hand. Of course he calls. River is a Jack. One more bet from me, then I stare at the pot looking bored as hell. I know he has me beat, so I need a fold. He picks up 8 chips in his hand, thinks for a minute, then lays it down. Sweet. I’m thinking I want this guy to chase me down all night long, and maybe even tilt a bit, so I show him my 33. He says, “Damn, I had you beat with my jack.” He proceeds to pick up his chips and leave the game. Crap. I play until my blinds and leave the table up $50. On the way out, I give all my winnings back to some nice gentlemen at a craps table.
Buddy and I cab it back to the LV Hilton where he was staying. The LV Hilton is NOT a good place to stay, unless you are a total Star Trek geek. For normal people, it’s a pretty lousy hotel. It isn’t so much that the hotel is bad, it’s just OLD. Combine that there are 20 newer and nicer hotels and the fact that it’s off the strip, and you have the makings of a ghost town. If it weren’t connected to the Convention Center, it would probably get torn down. Not even the likes of Barry Manilow, ZZ Top, and Robert Plant are gonna save this dog. (Can I tell you how bummed I was to see Plant playing at the LV Hilton? And in his picture, he looks just like Michael Freaking Bolton with the gay-ass hair. Not a good day for Zeppelin fans.) Anyway, buddy and I play another hour of Pai Gow and win about $75 each. Off to bed, dreaming about a Vegas threesome with Smoking Hot and her friend.
Next morning, buddy gets up and heads off to his show. Before he goes, he gives me a pass to the Gourmet show and tells me I’m welcome to come by and look around if I feel like it. Yup, that’s gonna happen. My plan is to head over to the Wynn for a look-see. I decide to try the Monorail since it’s actually working and it’s very easy to get to from the Hilton. A quick word on the monorail (“Mono-rail, mono-rail, mono-doh!”): If you happen to want to go to one of the hotels that connected to it (Hilton, Harrah’s, Bally’s, MGM) then it’s a great way to get around for $3. For any other hotel, you’re going to walk a ton.
I make it to the Wynn and am entirely unimpressed. I dare you to figure out how they put $2.6 Billion into this thing. It’s a very nice hotel, and everything is shiny and new, but there is nothing remarkable about it in the least. I have a friend who works there, so I try to give him a call to see if he’ll comp me a free lunch or a rack of white chips. He says something about actually having to work, so no freebies for me. Time to hit the Wynn buffet. My buffet strategy – try to get there while they are still serving breakfast, but lunch is less than 15 minutes away. That way, you get to pay the lower breakfast rate, but you get the lunch food just as it’s coming out. Breakfast was only $14.99 which is a pretty good deal. The buffet itself? Thumbs way up. Great selection, food was very high quality. My only complaint occurred when they brought out a fresh bowl of shrimp. I grab approximately 100 shrimp, a slice of lemon and look for the red stuff. No red stuff? They have a bowl of chili pepper, but no cocktail sauce. Are you for real? I ask the lady for the cocktail sauce. She says they are still preparing it and it’ll be about 5 minutes. 5 minutes?!?!? That’s like 3 days in Vegas time. No way I’m waiting that long. I grab two cinnamon buns and hit the strip.
I go straight to Treasure Island because it’s close and you can usually find cheap tables there. I play some $10 craps and lose a little. Sit down at a Pai Gow table to kill a bunch of time. The very first deal, the dealer sets his hand wrong, and instead of having AJ up and TT low, he splits Aces and I win my hand. For the next 45 minutes, he proceeds to pay me three times by mistake. I love this guy. When he’s pushed for a break, I pick up my chips and lose at craps. 20 minutes later, I’m back at the same table with my new best friend. He messes up twice more in my favor, and I go on to win at Pai Gow and finish over $100 for the trip.
I phone my buddy on the cell, tell him thanks for the room, and sorry I missed the show. I throw out his badge, and hop in the cab line. I end up sharing a cab with a guy who looks just like Jaws from the James Bond movies. When he did not end up killing and eating me, he turned out to be a nice guy and paid for most of the cab. Hit the airport, wait 30 minutes in the security line then back to beautiful Burbank, CA.
Summary:
+$100 gambling
+1 exceptionally nice left breast
+2 blisters from walking all over town in new sandals. Dumb-ass.
-1 pissed off friend who I’m going to stick with the cost of the air fare for screwing up the reservations in the first place.
Amid = Denim = Groo
So my friend MW calls me last month and says he working a trade show in Vegas this week. It’s the Gourmet show or Power Tool show or some crap I have zero interest in. Do I want to meet him there? No way. He says he doesn’t expect me to go to the show, but if I want to fly to Vegas I can crash in his hotel room. Do I want to go to Vegas and NOT have to talk to dorks about gourmet power tools? Hell Yes.
We decide to also invite BT. BT and I agree on flight plans - Burbank to Vegas to Burbank. Since he wants the miles on his credit card, I let him book the reservations on Southwest. Fast forward to this Tuesday. BT gets sick and decides he won’t be able to fly to Vegas. He calls Southwest and cancels his portion of the flight but confirms that I will be able to check in. Cool. Two hours before the flight, I print out the confirmation info to take with me to the airport. It says LAX (not Burbank) to Vegas. Fuuuuuuddddddggggeeeee (only I didn’t say Fudge). The flight leaves in two hours. Chances of getting from the Valley to LAX, parking and boarding in under than two hours? Zero. I call Southwest fast I can. Yes, there is a flight out of Burbank leaving in 90 minutes they can put me on. Perfect. It’ll be $113 to change the flight? Wha? However, if I’d like, I can use my friend’s credit from his canceled his flight and apply that to my charge. Sweet. Hop in the car and arrive at the airport with time to spare. (BTW, if you’ve never flown out of Burbank, I highly recommend it. It’s about 1000 times easier to get in and out of than LAX, and usually no traffic getting there.)
After an uneventful flight, I take a cab to the Venetian to join my buddy at a cocktail party sponsored by one of the companies presenting at the Gourmet thing. Party is at one of the restaurants that has a patio by a swimming pool. Borrrrrrringg. But at least the girl who gave me my name tag was smoking hot (SH). I say hi to my buddy, hit the bar and grab as many shrimp cocktails and I can. I join my friend and another couple at a table and find them talking about something so mind-numbingly boring that I’m starting to play no limit in my head with the shrimp. I’ve been in Vegas now for over an hour, and haven’t wagered any money. I’m starting to go a little stir crazy, and I’m about to tell my friend I’ll meet up with him later, when SH girl sits down at our table with a friend. SH is wearing a very low cut black dress with no bra. She’s also into her 6th glass of wine. I proceed to spend the next 30 minutes staring at her left breast, which is kind enough to pop out of her dress at least 5 times. At this point, I’m +3 drinks, +2 shrimp cocktails, and +5 nipple slips, and haven’t spent a dime yet. I don’t mind the dorky party quite as much. SH and her friend decide to ride the gondolas and go to In & Out. She leaves and takes her left breast with her, so MW and I decide to walk to the Bellagio.
We go straight to the poker room and put our names on the list for the 4-8. MW is a beginner and wanted me to sit at his table, so this game is a good fit for us. I take a peek at the top section, don’t see anyone I recognize other than a guy who was a dead ringer for Sklansky. Top game outdoors was 200-400, although they were playing 2000-4000 inside the glass room in the middle. We talk a walk and each make about $30 playing Pai Gow then sit down for our game.
The game was about as good as a TAG could ask for. Of the 9 other players, only one showed any real skill. Very few preflop raises, people chasing gut shots and low pocket pairs to the river. The woman immediately to my left was possibly playing for the first time ever with real money. I find out that my buddy has a long way to go in terms of poker play (I find most of this out later). First hand he posts and picks up kj clubs. Four people see a flop of AcQcx. Buddy checks and calls the flop. Turn is a blank, buddy checks then folds??? I asked him why he folded the turn, he told me the guy betting had two pair. Huh? I asked him if he knew his straight draw and flush draw would both beat two pair if they got there. His reply was, “I had a Royal Flush draw too.” Huh? I’m glad this guy is at my table, but I’m bummed my friend is a poker pussy.
In two hours, I played exactly two hands worthy of mentioning. The first, I raise UTG with AK. Learning lady to my left and one other guy call. Flop is rags, I bet – call, call. Turn is another rag, I bet – lady calls all-in, other player drops out. River is a blank, she turns over KQo, I drag the pot. I’m happy about my first pot, bummed that the ATM next to me doesn’t rebuy. Next orbit, I limp with 33 UTG. Calling station to my left who has been winning hands with absolute crap calls. Flop is 662. I come out firing, he calls. Turn is an Ace. I fire again, trying to look confident in my hand. Of course he calls. River is a Jack. One more bet from me, then I stare at the pot looking bored as hell. I know he has me beat, so I need a fold. He picks up 8 chips in his hand, thinks for a minute, then lays it down. Sweet. I’m thinking I want this guy to chase me down all night long, and maybe even tilt a bit, so I show him my 33. He says, “Damn, I had you beat with my jack.” He proceeds to pick up his chips and leave the game. Crap. I play until my blinds and leave the table up $50. On the way out, I give all my winnings back to some nice gentlemen at a craps table.
Buddy and I cab it back to the LV Hilton where he was staying. The LV Hilton is NOT a good place to stay, unless you are a total Star Trek geek. For normal people, it’s a pretty lousy hotel. It isn’t so much that the hotel is bad, it’s just OLD. Combine that there are 20 newer and nicer hotels and the fact that it’s off the strip, and you have the makings of a ghost town. If it weren’t connected to the Convention Center, it would probably get torn down. Not even the likes of Barry Manilow, ZZ Top, and Robert Plant are gonna save this dog. (Can I tell you how bummed I was to see Plant playing at the LV Hilton? And in his picture, he looks just like Michael Freaking Bolton with the gay-ass hair. Not a good day for Zeppelin fans.) Anyway, buddy and I play another hour of Pai Gow and win about $75 each. Off to bed, dreaming about a Vegas threesome with Smoking Hot and her friend.
Next morning, buddy gets up and heads off to his show. Before he goes, he gives me a pass to the Gourmet show and tells me I’m welcome to come by and look around if I feel like it. Yup, that’s gonna happen. My plan is to head over to the Wynn for a look-see. I decide to try the Monorail since it’s actually working and it’s very easy to get to from the Hilton. A quick word on the monorail (“Mono-rail, mono-rail, mono-doh!”): If you happen to want to go to one of the hotels that connected to it (Hilton, Harrah’s, Bally’s, MGM) then it’s a great way to get around for $3. For any other hotel, you’re going to walk a ton.
I make it to the Wynn and am entirely unimpressed. I dare you to figure out how they put $2.6 Billion into this thing. It’s a very nice hotel, and everything is shiny and new, but there is nothing remarkable about it in the least. I have a friend who works there, so I try to give him a call to see if he’ll comp me a free lunch or a rack of white chips. He says something about actually having to work, so no freebies for me. Time to hit the Wynn buffet. My buffet strategy – try to get there while they are still serving breakfast, but lunch is less than 15 minutes away. That way, you get to pay the lower breakfast rate, but you get the lunch food just as it’s coming out. Breakfast was only $14.99 which is a pretty good deal. The buffet itself? Thumbs way up. Great selection, food was very high quality. My only complaint occurred when they brought out a fresh bowl of shrimp. I grab approximately 100 shrimp, a slice of lemon and look for the red stuff. No red stuff? They have a bowl of chili pepper, but no cocktail sauce. Are you for real? I ask the lady for the cocktail sauce. She says they are still preparing it and it’ll be about 5 minutes. 5 minutes?!?!? That’s like 3 days in Vegas time. No way I’m waiting that long. I grab two cinnamon buns and hit the strip.
I go straight to Treasure Island because it’s close and you can usually find cheap tables there. I play some $10 craps and lose a little. Sit down at a Pai Gow table to kill a bunch of time. The very first deal, the dealer sets his hand wrong, and instead of having AJ up and TT low, he splits Aces and I win my hand. For the next 45 minutes, he proceeds to pay me three times by mistake. I love this guy. When he’s pushed for a break, I pick up my chips and lose at craps. 20 minutes later, I’m back at the same table with my new best friend. He messes up twice more in my favor, and I go on to win at Pai Gow and finish over $100 for the trip.
I phone my buddy on the cell, tell him thanks for the room, and sorry I missed the show. I throw out his badge, and hop in the cab line. I end up sharing a cab with a guy who looks just like Jaws from the James Bond movies. When he did not end up killing and eating me, he turned out to be a nice guy and paid for most of the cab. Hit the airport, wait 30 minutes in the security line then back to beautiful Burbank, CA.
Summary:
+$100 gambling
+1 exceptionally nice left breast
+2 blisters from walking all over town in new sandals. Dumb-ass.
-1 pissed off friend who I’m going to stick with the cost of the air fare for screwing up the reservations in the first place.
Amid = Denim = Groo