Thursday, April 23, 2015

There Ain't No Such Thing as a Free Lunch (At the Bike)

This past weekend I returned to The Bike, in regal Bell Gardens, CA.  Last time I was there, a story chronicled here, it was a crappy day.  This time, I’m happy to report that I didn’t suffer from any gastric distress.  But like last time, I had an early morning appointment sorta/kinda on the way to the Bike, so I got there earlier than I normally would.  It was about 11:30 AM or so.  I didn’t even consider trying the Quantum Reload thing I talked about in that previous post.  If I ever do try that again, I wouldn’t do it unless it was convenient to arrive at the Bike within a half hour of the starting time.  But honestly, I doubt I’ll ever try that again, just based on the time commitment, if nothing else.

So it was cash, the usually 2/3 NL game I play there.  When I arrived at the Bike I did a little tour just to see if anything had changed due to the construction (they are adding on a hotel) that I needed to be aware of—like more missing bathrooms—just in case. 

It actually looked pretty much the same as last time, with one notable exception.  The snack bar that had been missing from the tournament area had mysteriously reappeared.  Recall that the fact that it wasn’t there last time, when I really needed it, was one of the reasons the day was such a disaster—and why I almost got stuck with a hot dog covered in mayonnaise. 

Then I went over to the area where they have the 2/3 game.  They call this area “The Plaza” and this is where they have their biggest games.  The 2/3 game is the smallest game that plays on the Plaza.  I was really surprised when I got there, as the place was dead.  The Plaza, I mean.  The parking lot and the casino were about as busy as usual to my eye, but I’d never seen so few games on the Plaza.  There were only three games running.  There was a single table of the 2/3 game.  The other two games were not hold’em (I’m thinking one was Omaha and the other was perhaps a combination Stud/Omaha).  Neither one of those non hold’em games was close to full.  The 2/3 game was full and when I got my name on the list, I was second up. 

I was sure I’d never seen the place so empty. I couldn’t figure out why. It was a very nice day, weather wise, in L.A., but then, it usually is.  That’s why we live here.  I could think of no reason the place wouldn’t be as busy as it usually is.  I did consider that it was about an hour or so earlier than I usually get there, but then I remembered that I had gotten there about the same time last time, and I surely would have remembered it had been this dead.

Anyway, I waited.  And waited.  And waited some more.  I have never waited this long for a seat at the Bike. The place does have 190 poker tables, after all—and isn’t even the biggest poker room in LA. That would be Commerce, the biggest poker room in the world at over 200 tables. 

No one was leaving the game.  And what was really bothering me was that, unlike so many times at the Bike, I didn’t see any players leaving the table and miss any hands.  Just the kind of game I like, and I couldn’t get in it.

Eventually some names started filling up the waitlist.  I got to be #1 on the list and then it looked like they had enough players to start a new game.  In fact, they finally called the game, sold chips, had a dealer spread the decks and prep the cards.  But despite a few more names on the list, there were only four of us at the table.  So we waited a bit, and then, a player left the table where the one game was playing, and I got called there to take that seat.

I moved over there and as I was just about to order my free lunch, the waitress followed me over there.  I waited to post and started to place my order when the waitress asked me how I was going to pay. Pay?

I should mention that this waitress recognizes me every time I play at the Bike, and she’s the only person at the Bike who does.  She had already come by to say hi while I was waiting.  She noted that it had been awhile since she’d seen me.  So when she saw the look of surprise I gave her when she asked me how I was gonna pay for my free meal, she realized that I hadn’t been in since they had changed their policy.  No one gets free food anymore. 

Turns out that just a few days after my last trip to the Bike, they stopped giving the folks who play on the Plaza free food.  My immediate thought was, “Now I know why it’s so dead here.” That probably isn’t the explanation, but it may contribute.  Recall that I recently discussed how the Bike increased the rake (see here).  It’s now $6 plus the $1 jackpot drop when the hand goes to the river (whether there’s any betting action on the river or not).  And when I talked about the Quantum Reload tournament, I mentioned that they charged the guy $1 for the bottle of water.  Now this.

OK, ok.  It’s not like one should expect a free meal in a casino the way one expects a free drink in a Vegas casino (see here).  It’s just that, when you consider the exorbitant rake they hit you with, getting those free meals sure made it easier justifying playing there.  In fairness, I should point out that their biggest competitor, Commerce, never gave free food to players.

So the waitress asked me if I was going to pay with cash or my comp points.  To be honest, I’ve never fully understood how they do comps.  I know if you play enough in a month, they will actually give you cash back, but you have to play like 25 hours in a calendar month in order to qualify, and I can’t see myself ever hitting anywhere close to that (I doubt I’ve ever played more than 10 hours in one month there, and that would a lot for me).  I did recall, eventually, that in the old days, before I was playing on the plaza, you would earn enough comp points to order a free meal off a very limited menu after three hours of play on that day.  Those points expired at midnite.  I had no idea how it worked now, but since this was the first time I’d set foot in the place since late February, I was sure I had nothing coming to me.

Of course, I had counted on the free lunch, so I hadn’t eaten and was hungry.  No choice but to order and see how bad the damage was.  I ordered what I usually do and then for some reason, the waitress said she would check the computer to see how much to charge me.  When she came back, it was only $7, which for the amount of food I ordered, was quite reasonable.  But it’s infinity percent higher than free.

It turned out that my food order wasn’t exactly right, and it wasn’t clear if there had been a communication problem between the waitress and me or if the new policy meant a new menu and that what I really wanted wasn’t available.  You know, once I found out the food was not free, I should have looked at the menu first, that’s my fault.  But I can report that the waitress brought me three diet sodas and two bottles of water (which I made sure no one stole), so there’s that.

Meanwhile, the game.  When the button passed, I went to post and was told that posting was no longer required.  That too is a recent change.  I said, “No posting?  No free food?  I don’t recognize this place.”

But this was one of the most pleasant tables I’ve ever played at the Bike, I’ll say that. There wasn’t a single jerk at the game the entire time, which is definitely unusual. There were three people on one end who were all buddies and having a good time.  I recognized them all as regs. There were a couple of real nice guys in seats 5 & 6, two buddies, who I didn't recognize but who seemed to know the regs I just referred to.  

The guy in seat 5 had a t-shirt with the emblem “Share My Pair.”  I had heard of that.  It is a app for recreating a hand and displaying how it played out via animation. It always sounded pretty cool to me, and I’ve always wanted to try it, but for whatever reason, I never got around to it.  I know I’ve had some hands that I’ve described here on the blog that would be worthy of recreating this way.  Anyway, it turned out that I was playing with the man behind the "Share My Pair" app and he was only too happy to tell us all about it. Let's call him Steve, because, as I found out the next day, that’s his name.

Early on I raised with pocket 10’s, and, after a call, one of the regs made it $51.  I folded, as did the other guy.  The reg kindly showed his hand, which was the dreaded pocket Kings.  Not so dreaded for him.

The next hand I had worth playing was a couple of Aces.  I was in early position and raised to $12.  It folded to Steve on the button, who went all in with his last $63.  When it folded back to me, it was heads up so I could only call.  We didn’t show.  And…..well, actually if you want to know what happened, you can click the link here and see it play out on Steve’s app.

Yeah, indeed, Steve rivered the nut flush, shoving with Ace-7 of diamonds.  He titled the hand, “A frustration bet,” and when he tweeted it out, he said, “better to be lucky.”  Actually, that’s exactly what he said when he turned over his hand—“I got lucky.”

Yep.  At least it wasn’t more.  I suspected that Steve had created the hand on his app, but didn’t bother to look for it at the time.  But I knew I would do more research after the session. 

A bit later, I limped in with Jack-9 of diamonds.  Five of us saw the flop which had two diamonds on it.  Steve led out with a bet—my notes say $22 but that seems rather high.  One person called, as did I.  I hit my flush on the turn and this time it folded to me.  No one called my $25 bet.  Steve commented that he was being very disciplined and later said he had flopped a straight.  Could have given me a little more money back to me, Steve!

I raised to $15 with Ace-Jack off.  Only the guy who had just come to the table and was playing his first hand called.  The flop was Ace high, two spades.  I bet $20 and he called.  The turn was the third spade and we both checked.  The river was a blank and I checked, he checked behind me and showed two Kings.  Wow.  If he had re-raised me I would have easily folded Ace-Jack.  OTOH, I can sort of understand just calling there.  Brand new to the table, had never seen me play before.  That’s sort of my default, play it very safe until I get a feel for the action.  But having said that, I don’t think I’d just flat call a normal raise with Kings even on my very first hand at the table.

The next time I had pocket Aces, the guy on my immediate right, with a short stack, shoved for $51.  I just called and it was just the two of us.  The full house he rivered was no good.  There were three deuces on the board and he had pocket Jacks.

I won a small pot completing from the small blind with 10-8 of hearts and rivering a flush against a guy who rivered a straight.  Then I three bet with pocket Aces ($15 to $45) and took it down pre-flop.

I think I want to save the last significant hand of my session for a separate post, because I want to make a larger point with it.  So at this juncture, I was down to around $200 from my $300 buy-in.

The next day, I researched the Share My Pair app, and found the hand on the website, just as I suspected.  Steve had recreated a number of hands from his session.  He had of course tweeted out the hand so I tweeted back to him that I was the sucker with Aces in that hand and that it had been a pleasure playing with him. I also confirmed that I had the flush when he folded his straight.  He thanked me for that, than later sent me an email, suggesting we meet up when he’s in Vegas playing some of the WSOP events.  I hope we can do that.

But I do want to quote a little from his email to me.  His opening line was, “I recognized your Twitter handle but didn’t realize that you’re a poker blogging icon!”  Thank you, sir.

Now, I’m sorry, but I’m just not classy enough to discuss the “Share My Pair” app without taking advantage of the obvious double-entendre.  So I have to include this pic of a pair that is definitely worth sharing.  This is why I’m a poker blogging icon.  Sorry, Steve.

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

The Girl With the Magic Cleavage

As regular regulars have figured out, usually when I’m in Vegas on a Saturday, I enjoy playing a tournament.  It’s most likely the Binion’s $140 deepstack.  If not that, the Aria $125 is also a great option.

Before I got to Vegas for the first weekend of March Madness, I realized that I was going to be disappointed that first Saturday. As part of my day job with PokerAtlas,  I knew that neither Binion’s nor Aria were going to run their regular tournaments.  Binion’s had their Spring Classic going on, and on that Saturday they were running a $300+ event for a WSOP seat.  Too rich for my blood.  And Aria was in the middle of their “Race for the Clover” event, so that tournament too was over $300.  I just wanted a deepstack tournament with a $125-$150 buyin as usual. 

But I was out of luck.  One option was to play cash all day.  Not a bad idea for a Saturday filled with tourists coming into town to bet about a zillion college basketball games.  But I feared if my luck wasn’t good I might need too big a bankroll to last all day playing cash.  I kind of wanted a tournament to take up some time.  The best idea I came up was the $65 tournament at Treasure Island.  It had a $1K guarantee (since reduced to $750) and is basically the same tournament I played a few years back at the “Grumpament” (see here).

They had a great turnout this day.  Over 70 players, filling 6 tables. There was one cash game going on and the room only has 7 tables, so the room was max capacity.  It would have been a nice tournament to win—first place was over $1,500.  And the players at my table were really bad.  I should have crushed it.  But I didn’t.

The bad players were almost all calling stations.  They called you down with anything and would of course sometimes hit.  Since there were multiple players calling down their weak draws, somebody almost always hit something.  I need to learn how to play in games like that.  It seemed to me my best option was to wait to get a hand and then get max value for it.  Trouble is, I never made a hand.  So, not making any hands against these calling stations meant I busted out in the fourth level, barely after the first break.   

While I was approaching the TI parking lot, I noticed the Wynn across the diagonally across the street.  It had been awhile since I played there so I put the idea in the back of my mind of maybe walking over there after I was done at TI.  So when I busted so early, that’s what I did.

At Wynn, I encountered “The Girl With the Magic Cleavage.”  This gal comes to the table and that caught my interest, always nice to see a female join our heretofore strictly male table.  She was cute, dressed very conservatively at first glance, and actually seemed to be wearing a lot of clothing, perhaps hiding the fact that she might have been a pound or two overweight.  As she was getting settled in her seat I turned away to play a hand.  When I looked back over to her, suddenly cleavage had magically appeared.  I swear it wasn’t there when she first sat down.  Hmm…..Then as it turned out, based on the first few hands, it did indeed seem like the girl had magical powers…whether it emanated from her cleavage, I can’t be sure.


As she was getting settled in, the dealer asked if she had a player’s card.  She said she didn’t and then explained, “I just got to town.  First time in Vegas.”  A few of us welcomed her and then she added, “First time playing poker.”  Really? That would be interesting.  Did she mean first time playing poker ever or did she mean first time playing in a casino?

Well, it didn’t take long to get more information.  The dealer asked her if she was ready to get dealt a hand.  She asked, “Do I have to post?”

Ok, that put the lie to her claim that she’d never played poker before.  You must have played a poker –in a casino, no less—to even know to ask that question.  To even know what it means to post.  So I knew I had to keep an eye on her.  Truth be told, she never acted like she didn’t know what she was doing.

In fact, the very first hand she was dealt, she raised.  I don’t recall much of the action but she won a smallish pot at showdown and showed Ace-Jack for the win.

The next hand she raised again, to $9.  When it got to me, I looked down at pocket Jacks.  I certainly hadn’t figured out anything about magic cleavage girl, so I just called.  It folded to the table’s resident Crazian, who was one of the blinds.  He made it $40.  Now it was getting interesting.

I was eager to see how magic cleavage girl would respond.  If she had another hand like Ace-Jack, would she call a three-bet?  Well, she started counting chips and I realized she was going to re-raise.  She settled on $87 (total).

I had been card dead and those Jacks had looked pretty nice when I opened them but they didn’t look so good now so I folded without hesitation.  But the Crazian called and it was heads up.

The flop was low, and almost immediately, the Crazian announced “all-in.”  The girl had bought in for $200 and the Crazian had her well covered.  She didn’t waste any time calling.  He showed pocket 9’s.  She flipped over a couple of Aces.  The board bricked out and she had gotten a nice double up, second hand of the session.  How lucky for her….not only getting those Aces but getting them against a guy who would double her up with only an unimproved pair of 9’s.

Less than an orbit later, she raised again, had a couple of callers.  The flop was 8-3-3 and it was checked around.  A 7 came out on the turn, she bet and another guy shoved.  She snap-called.  She had the guy covered, but not by that much.  She showed pocket 8’s.  He showed pocket 7’s.  Another near double up.

It was quite a run for her.  I left soon thereafter so I have no idea how she ended up.  But if it really was her first time in Vegas, it was quite a welcome.

There’s nothing really to say about the lousy session I had there at the Wynn.  The session I had later at Caesars (this was the same night I checked out the new Slut Parade, see here) had only one interesting hand, my last one.  Before I get to that, I’ll talk about the guy playing scared.  There was a guy there who, when I had arrived to the table, had about $1,200-$1,300 in front of him.  I was only there a few minutes when I heard him ask the dealer, “I can’t take any of this off the table, can I?”  Of course, the dealer told him he could only take money of the table if he left the game.  He stayed, but the big stack obviously affected his play.  I was sure that this guy was just having the best run of his life and had never played so deep before.

This was the session that featured the aggro Brit who button straddled face up (see here).  I mentioned the Brit’s buddy who was also an aggro.  That guy became the nemesis of the guy who was nervous playing the $1,200 stack.  Soon after the aggro got there, the nervous guy bet $100 on a flop of 10-9-8, two clubs.  The aggro shoved for over $500.  The nervous guy tanked forever.  He had the dealer count the bet.  Finally he folded.  The aggro showed Ace-Queen, neither of which was a club.  In other words, he had air.  The nervous guy said he folded a set.  The nervous guy laughed awkwardly but I’m sure it was killing him. 

There was another time he folded to the same guy’s shove on the river.  The board had a King & Queen on it and also a possible straight.  He took forever to fold his pocket 10’s face up.  The aggro showed his pocket 4’s.  I’m pretty sure there was one more hand when the nervous guy folded to this same guy’s all-in bluff.

He ended up losing about 1/3 of his big stack, mostly by making his own (bad) bluffs that were called (some of them by yours truly).  But he wasn’t bluffing all in.

You know, one of the nice things about the Caesars poker room is the location.  There’s easily half a dozen other poker rooms within walking distance.  Once the guy got to the point of asking if he could take money off the table, he should have cashed out and gotten into another game with a normal buy-in in one of those other rooms.

My last hand, I was on my second buy-in (don’t ask) and I had about $190 left and was ready to call it a night, down to what I promised myself would be my last orbit.  I limped in with Ace-5 of clubs.  One guy made it $10, another guy made it $20 and another guy called the $20.  I was nearly done so I decided to call the $20.  All told, five of us saw the flop. 

It came down 7-3-2.  The 7 was red, the other two cards were both clubs.  I had the nut flush draw, the gut-shot straight draw and the steel wheel draw.  One guy bet $30, another guy called that, the big stack made it $90, the next guy called that.  I called.  The guy who bet $30 folded.  The guy who called the $30 shoved for about $160, the big stack shoved and of course I shoved too.  It was a monster pot.

The turn was a red 9.  The river was black 10, but a spade, not a club.  I had Ace high.  Damn.  The guy who called $30, then shoved had flopped a set of 7’s.  The big stack showed pocket 9’s.  Note, he had gone all in on the flop before he had a set.  He had also been the preflop three-bettor.  I didn’t see if the short-stack showed his hand.  I just left, totally defeated.

Tough day of poker when almost all of my blogging material came from hands I wasn’t in.

Sunday, April 19, 2015

What Do I Have to Do to Get a Drink Around Here?

I’m afraid this post is going to be a rant and also touch on one of my pet peeves. Although it was mid-March and spring had barely arrived, it was unseasonably warm in Vegas.  Actually, the weather was just about perfect, but walking outside in the sun made me quite thirsty.  As it happened, I started noticing what might have been a sore throat coming on soon after I left my hotel (it turned out not to be anything serious, just “Vegas throat”).  So by the time I found myself seat at a 1/3 game at Wynn, walking over from TI, I was quite in need of some liquid refreshment.  Oh, and also, I had some medication I needed to take pretty soon.

After being there over an hour, I was still waiting for the cocktail waitress to make her first appearance at our table.  At one point I noticed one across the room but she never made it over to our table.  I asked the dealer about it.  He said they no longer have buttons on their Bravo system to light to ask for a waitress.  Not that that ever does any good, but it makes you feel like they have some interest in getting you served.

So I took to Twitter.  And to the Wynn poker room’s Twitter account, I tweeted, “Been at @WynnPoker for a hour and still no cocktail waitress. How embarrassing for you. Worst I've ever seen.”

I wasn’t sure what, if anything, would come of that, but at least it made me feel a little better to publically vent.  And let me make this clear:  The Wynn poker room is a fine room.  It is well run.  It is a very nice place to play poker.  And I know that the folks who run the room have absolutely nothing to do with the quality of the cocktail service.  There’s nothing they can do about it.  That’s handled by a separate department and the waitresses are all union.  The poker folks are at their mercy. 

My tweet didn’t get any response, no surprise.  At least from the good folks at Wynn.  But a couple of my twitter followers responded.  One was sympathetic.  But one, not so much.

The unsympathetic response came from someone I’ll call “Andr0us” since that’s his twitter handle. I know he’s a poker dealer (and sometimes floor, I believe).  Through my vast network of spies, I even know what room he works at, even though it’s supposed to be a closely held secret.  We’ve been twitter peeps for some time.  In fact, in the post here, when I referred to him (not by name) as one of my twitter peeps, he tweeted back to me that I had touched his heart.

As far as I know, I’ve never met him in person.  But you know, I wouldn’t be surprised if somewhere along the way, we have indeed been in the same poker room at the same time.  Honestly, it would surprise me if we hadn’t. 

Anyway, my twitter peep Andr0us tweeted to me, in a series of three tweets: “this is my view on poker room cocktails. Drinks are a privilege, not a right, the casino gives to the players. if you want a drink right away, you are more than welcome to go to the bar & pay for one... but if you want a drink for free, you have to be patient & wait as long as it takes.”

The day not having exactly gone the way I had envisioned, I was less than pleased with his thoughtful response. 

Ever been really upset about something—which may seem really minor to someone else but is just pissing the hell out of you—and had someone try to tell you that it was no big deal, or that you are wrong to be upset?  You have, I’m sure.  I’m sure you know how maddening that is. 

The last thing I needed right then was for someone to argue with me at that moment.  I’ll bet the other players at my table were wondering why there was suddenly steam coming out of my ears.

Calmly, cooly, I responded to Andr0us with the very first thing that came to my mind. I tweeted back, You're right u don't have bring us drinks. So put a f***ing water cooler in the f***ing poker room.” (Note, my actual tweet did not contain asterisks in place of the actual letters). 

He replied, “i agree with that. Place I work has a water cooler & coffee in the corner.”

I suppose I appreciated him agreeing with me, but he happened to bring up another pet peeve of mine.  My response was, “And as someone who drinks soda not coffee I'd still s.o.l. but I'm used to that. At least the water would help.”  Every office I’ve ever worked in offered free coffee to the employees.  Not at all helpful to me since I don’t drink the stuff.  And I’ve never worked in an office that offered free soda.  But I’ll save the full rant on that topic for another time.  


I didn’t hear back from him on that, nor did I expect to.  But I couldn’t stop thinking about it.  I was pissed to be challenged like that when I was clearly in the right. I would have expected nothing but sympathy for my plight.  But I spent the rest of my poker session thinking about it and formulating a better response.  You know, instead of concentrating on the poker game.

So here’s the thing.  We all know how the game is played, and dating back to the days when the mob was running Vegas, there’s been an unwritten contract between the casino and the players. It is understood that the casino will provide free drinks for folks while they are gambling.  This accomplishes two things for the casino.  One, it keeps the player playing longer instead of having to get up to fetch a drink.  And two, since most of the drinks people order contain alcohol, the casino hopes the players will get somewhat intoxicated, loosening their inhibitions and staying longer, and reaching into their pockets (or their ATM’s) and risking more and more of their money when they are no longer in full control of their faculties. 

I suppose I beat the system to some degree by drinking mostly non-booze.  Note: back when I played table games and not poker, I ordered liquor a lot more often, tho never to excess. 

But implied with that contract that they’ll serve you drinks until you get hammered is that they will come around and give you more drinks reasonably frequently.  It’s to their benefit as well as the player’s.

So getting a drink in less than an hour and a quarter doesn’t seem too unreasonable.

The other thing of course is that, what the heck do they charge for drinks in a Vegas casino bar these days?  I’ve heard various reports.  “Eight bucks for a beer.”  “Twelve bucks for a beer.”  “Fifteen bucks for a mixed drink!”  I dunno if these are accurate, since I don’t order drinks in Vegas casino bars. But I do know it ain’t cheap. And what would they charge me for a diet coke?  I have no idea, really, it’s been like forever since I ordered a soft drink in a bar.  Five bucks?  More?  Are you kidding me?

Well, it was nearly 90 minutes before a waitress came by to take our orders.  To be fair, at least she had a tray full of Fuji Waters with her to pass out as she took orders.  I grabbed one of the waters and ordered a diet coke.  I immediately took my meds which were now overdue.  And I would say I gulped down about 90% of the water in less than a minute. I was pleasantly surprised when she returned with my diet coke in a fairly reasonable amount of time.  But I did hear the waitress say—to no one in particular as far as I could tell—“I’m so tired.”

Of course the drink consisted of about three ounces of diet coke in a glassful of ice.  But that wasn’t so bad.  Remember, I like sucking on the ice.  But here’s the kicker.  The diet coke was resting on the portable cart that was behind my chair (no cup holders at the Wynn).  Not long after getting the drink, I was ready to take off.  I got up to grab a rack and started racking my chips.  I saw/heard the waitress come by yet again to take orders, and I didn’t order since I was practically out the door.  I stood up and went to grab my glass, which had a bit of watered down soda and a ton of ice, only to discover that the waitress had taken away the glass that I wasn’t done with.  Are you freaking kidding me?  I had waited 90 minutes for that drink and the damn waitress took it away before I was finished with it?  As I told in the post here, taking away my glass (even if it’s just ice) before I’m through with it drives me absolutely insane.  The waitress was AWOL for 90 minutes, then somehow manages to make three appearances at my table within a relatively short amount of time, only to take my glass away before I was done with it?  It took every ounce of self-restraint I posses to not start screaming and make a scene.

To add insult to injury, later in the evening, I was playing in another poker room.  Let’s call it Caesars.  Let’s assume that I had walked from Wynn to Caesars.  Let’s assume I was still damn thirsty.

The waitress came by fairly quickly.  I ordered a diet Coke.  Someone else at the table ordered a Jack & Coke.  When she came back, she went to the other guy first and gave him one of the two dark colored drinks on her tray.  “She said, “I’m not sure if this is your Jack & Coke, can you taste it?”  He did.  He handed it back to her and said, “That’s diet Coke.”  No, it wasn’t just diet Coke.  It was my diet Coke.  Which she could now not serve me.  She gave him the other glass on her tray and told me she would have to come up with my uncontaminated diet Coke.

I finally got my drink but this day it was a real struggle getting drinks.  And as I said, I think there’s an understanding that when people are gambling, they’re supposed to get a beverage within a reasonable amount of time.  Doesn’t have to be 10 minutes.  But nearly 90 minutes to see a waitress?  That’s unacceptable.