Now….back to my first poker session of my late October trip, a session I started describing here. Picking up where I left off, I had pocket 7’s in early position. I limped, another player limped and then a relatively new player, a woman, raised to $16. She was playing with about $120 and I had her covered. I decided to call because I thought there the other player would call too. I was right.
The three of us saw a flop that was A-7-x, two hearts. I led out with a $40 bet. The short stack called and the preflop raiser folded. The turn was a blank, and the woman had less than $20 left, so I put her all in; she called. I did not want to see a heart on the river, but that’s exactly what came out. She flipped over Jack-8 of hearts (!) and took down the pot. Don’t you love losing with a set?
I had Ace-10 of spades and limped in early position. A regular, a total rock, raised to $10, a couple of others called and so did I. This might have been one of those hands that I played differently because of the promo—I wanted to get a drawing ticket, so I played it because it was suited (see the post I linked to at the beginning for an explanation of the promos). I wanted a flush, and if I had the draw to it, it would be the nut flush. Besides, because I knew the player who raised was such a rock, I could put him on a rather small range of hands and would likely be able to tell if my hand was good as it progressed.
The flop was King-Jack-9, rainbow, one spade (the 9). The preflop raiser led out for $20. I decided to call with my gut-shot and back door flush draw. The $20 just wasn’t enough to make me go away. Just the two of us saw the flop, which was a beautiful Queen of spades, not only completing Broadway for me but giving me the draw to the nut flush.
I decided to do something I rarely do….slow play it. I checked. I was hoping the rock would bet again and then I’d check-raise—or maybe just call and wait for the river to bet.
But damn, he checked behind me. A red 5 on the river didn’t change anything. I figured I had to bet to have any chance of getting more money. I put out only $40 and he tanked for awhile and then folded. That was the first of three gut-shots I filled in during this session.
In the big blind I had Ace-5 off suit. Someone made a small raise to $7, there were several callers, so I put in another $5 to see the flop. Ace high flop, I checked/called $15. On the turn, a blank, I called $25. The river was a 5 so I bet out $40, no call.
Next big blind I had Queen-Jack off and no one raised. The flop was 10-9-8, two clubs. I bet $10 and got four callers! A low red card hit the turn and I bet out $55. This time no one called.
I called a raise to $12 with pocket 10’s. Just two of us saw the flop, which was Q-10-2, rainbow. Although I’ve vowed never to do it, I slow played my set, just checking. He bet $20 and I just flat called. The turn was a blank, and I checked again, this time planning to check raise. But he checked behind me. Another blank on the river, this time I bet $45 and he called. But he mucked when he saw my set of 10’s.
Then came perhaps the most interesting, if not profitable, hand of the night. There was a brother/sister combo at our table. The brother was sitting directly to my left, and the sister was sitting directly across from me. She was cute, well-endowed and had a rather low-cut top, so that was definitely a plus. Whether or not she was purposely going for the Jennifer Tilly effect, I don’t know. Turns out they had been raised in L.A., not far from where I currently live. He still lives near me but she moved up north. He was there for a business trip and since he had a free room, he invited his sister down to share it so she could play poker while he attended his two-day conference. He’s married (she’s not) so I guess his wife isn’t into Vegas. The sister clearly was.
They were both very nice people and we had enjoyable few hours playing poker together. I mentioned the football promo in the prior post . The game was winding down at this point. Only one person from our table had won a chance to draw for some cash—the sister. She won $100 (the minimum).
In a straddled pot I raised to $12 in early position with Ace-King off. Four people called, including the brother to my left. The flop was King-9-6, rainbow. I bet out $40. Was that the right amount? Too much? What do you think?
My friendly neighbor to my left made it $80. Shit. It folded back to me and I went into the tank.
“What, do you have a set?” I asked him, and of course he said nothing. He had struck me as a pretty solid player, and if he had ever bluffed before, he hadn’t shown it. I was kind of thinking he wouldn’t have raised if he couldn’t beat top pair/top kicker. That was my gut instinct, anyway.
I’m pretty sure I was going to fold anyway when suddenly, I heard them announce “Table 10, Seat 1,” as the winner of the next football drawing. That happened to be my seat. “That’s me!” I exclaimed. As I said, I think I was gonna fold anyway, but that made it even easier, so I folded and jumped up to claim my prize.
The game was almost over and this figured to be the last score. As it had happened, most of the bigger prizes were still available. Almost everyone who had won had only gotten the $100 prize. The one $500 prize and one of the two $400’s were still available. I believe the Shift Manager told me that there was actually less than a 50% chance I’d only get $100.
One of the nice things about playing in your “home” casino is that everyone is rooting for you in a case like this. As I walked to the drum, everyone is encouraging me, telling me to get that $500 football, wishing me luck. Of course, a few of my dealer pals are yelling, “We’ll split it, right?”
Well, I grabbed a football and opened it and it was $200. Same as I got the previous month when I was selected (see here). And just like the last time, I had won the prize on the last score of the game.
When I got back to my seat, I got back to thinking about the hand I had just mucked when I was picked. As I said in the previous post, I think the hands where you never know if you made a good fold or not are the ones that drive you the craziest.
Since we had been chatting so amicably, I decided to ask my neighbor what he had on that hand. He said he would tell me if I told him what I had. Seemed like a fair trade. I said ok.
“I had Ace-King,” he said. My response was instant. “F***, that’s what I had!”
“Really?” he said. He was surprised. He said I put out such a “big bet” on the flop like I wanted everyone to fold. “It was a rainbow flop, why wouldn’t you want action?”
He said he would have bet $25 in my shoes. I dunno. It always seems like I get in trouble more from betting too little than from betting too much.
So he thought I was making a continuation-bet on a flop that missed me. I explained that I thought a pot-sized bet there (or a little less) seemed like a pretty routine play. We discussed it back and forth for a bit, but I guess I was a little disturbed I’d laid down the best hand—or at least tied with the best. At least I had my $200 promo money to console me.
He even said that maybe he should have just called and we could have got some more action from the other players and split a bigger pot than he won by himself.
Or let someone stick around and outdraw us.
Let me know if you think I bet too much on the flop.
A few hands later I got the dreaded pocket Kings, first time this trip. Before it got to me in the big blind, someone raised to $7 and two people called. I made it $30. I think I would have—and should have—bet more, but I was still thinking about the guy’s comment about betting too much on the Ace-King hand. The other three players already in for $7 called. So it was a nice, bloated, $120 pot before the flop and I’m sitting there with my kryptonite hand.
The flop was Queen high and not too scary looking. A pretty good flop for my dreaded Kings. I only had a little more than the pot behind me, so I just shoved. Any bet I make there commits me anyway. I caught myself thinking, “I’m bound to get felted with KK sooner or later, might as well be the first time I get them.”
The next guy went into the tank. He thought long and hard and kept saying, “I want to call. I really want to call.” But he eventually folded. The next guy folded instantly. The last guy, who was short stacked, put out the rest of his chips (about ½ my bet, give or take) and said, “O.K.”
We didn’t show. The rest of the board looked harmless. I showed my cowboys and he turned over Queen-6. He had top pair, crappy kicker. I scooped up the pot and he took off.
Too bad. It would be nice to keep bad players like that around. Calling a raise and then a 3-bet with Queen-6 offsuit. Then calling a shove with top pair and no kicker whatsoever? Damn, I wish he could have played longer.
Now as I mentioned at the outset of the earlier post on this night, this took place on the Sunday before Halloween. As such, there were plenty of people in costumes (I think Hakkasan may have had a costume contest on this night as well)—though not nearly as many as on Halloween itself. Of course, for a description of the Halloween festivities. see here.
My seat gave me a perfect view of the traffic getting to the club. Some in sexy Halloween costumes, some in their slutty club-going dresses. It was a pleasant view. One of the odder costumes I saw was a girl on huge stilts….I think it was a costume from Avatar but I’m not sure. It was somewhat sexy but she was so high up you couldn’t see her that well.
She was accompanied by a girl not wearing a costume. And holding on to her friend for dear life. It was clear she was having trouble walking on her stilts. She appeared to stumble a few times and then, a bit after they got past my table, she had to stop to make some kind of adjustment in her costume. Now from the angle I had, It looked like her friend had her face squarely in the girl-on-stilts’ crotch as she worked on her costume. It was pretty funny.
I didn’t mention it in my official Halloween post but there was another girl on stilts that night walking past the poker room. That girl was apparently used to walking on stilts as she had no trouble walking to the club. Not sure what her costume was supposed to be but it was elaborate.
Late in my session, my pal Ginger came to deal. By this time there was a steady stream of pedestrian traffic in front of me that was getting to be a bit distracting. The guys who were facing the dealer, and thus had their backs to the traffic, kept turning their heads around to view all the costumes and all the ladies parading back and forth. My seat, as well as the dealer’s, had the best unobstructed view.
Ginger appeared to be noticing the people walking by but didn’t say anything until finally, a girl walked by in some kind of a costume I can’t describe (or remember) but she was basically wearing a rather tiny bikini (it might have been a jungle girl type of thing). She was very thin, and wasn’t particularly big on top. I did appreciate her flat stomach though. Anyway, out of the blue, as the girl passed us, Ginger said to me (though everyone else could hear), “She’s too skinny.”
“Too skinny, huh?” was all I could say.
“Yeah. I prefer some more meat on the bones.”
O.K. Good to know. I mean, who knew Ginger had the same hobby as I did--checking out the babes.
A few minutes later a girl wearing just an ordinary club dress—meaning it was super tight—walked by. This girl was definitely not too skinny. I personally thought she was bit too not skinny to be wearing such a tight dress. Just one man’s opinion. But I dutifully pointed her out to Ginger and said, “How about her, is that better? There’s meat on her.”
Ginger agreed. “Yeah, yeah, that’s more like it.”
I’m sure I’ve pointed out before that Ginger is a very attractive woman. She is also quite thin. So it was kind of surprising to me to hear her complain about another woman being too skinny.
I wanted to comment and I had to choose my words carefully. Based on her comment about the first girl, I knew I couldn’t call Ginger skinny. So after some careful thought, I said to her, “It’s funny you feel that way, because you’re very slim.” I thought she would be ok with “slim.”
She just kind of smiled and didn’t say anything. Meanwhile, there were two guys on the opposite side of the table (one from Canada,, one from L.A.) who were definitely going to need neck and shoulder massages in the morning. But they apparently heard this and one of them said to her, “Yeah, I was going to say the same thing.”
A bit later, a guy walked by wearing Speedos I guess and was bare-chested. He had some paint on his chest and some kind of furry animal pelt type thing on his head as part of his costume.
Ginger noticed. “Ah there…that’s for me. I like that.”
So the Canadian said, “Really? He looked kinda small in front.”
Ginger was still talking. “Yeah…yeah. I like that.”
The guy from L.A. “Oh, you checked out his penis size huh? It was pretty small.”
Ginger was a bit aghast. “I wasn’t talking about that!” And then just cracked up.
The Canadian said, “Yeah….did you see that?”
Ok, I had to interject. “That’s where you guys look? Really? “
The guy from L.A. said, “Well, yeah, it was just right there.”
Really? If it was that small, it wouldn’t have been right out there, would it?
Finally Ginger said, “Ah come on. That wasn’t what I was looking at.”
That discussion ended right about then as Ginger was pushed out of—you’ll pardon the expression—the box.
I took that as a cue for me to quit the session myself. I had played a long time and was a little bit ahead, about $50 (not counting the $200 from the football promo). But in 7-1/2 hours of poker, while having a winning session, I had collected exactly zero drawing tickets. Not a one. That meant I had never had a flush or better the entire night. I did have a bunch of straights. I hit a total of three gut-shot straights and in every case, it came on the turn and the card I needed was a Queen.
I do think it is remarkable that I could play poker for that long, leave ahead, and never have gotten a flush, let alone a boat.
Before leaving the casino I did spend some time checking out the scenery a bit. The most interesting costume I saw from this point on was a gal covering herself with a long, knitty beige wrap, a shawl maybe. It didn’t tie and she was holding it closed in the front. But it came loose enough for me to see that she was wearing nothing or almost nothing on top. Then I noticed her opening the shawl to show off her “costume” to her girlfriends. She wasn’t quite topless. She was wearing something glued to her breasts that was made to look like whipped cream. And where her nipples presumably were, there were cherries (or something artificial that were made to look like cherries). On the bottom, she was wearing a pair of short-shorts with no particular design on them.
She had gotten her money’s worth from the plastic surgeon, so there was a whole lot of (fake) boobage on display when she showed off her costume to her friends. I had to assume that when she got into the club, the shawl was going to go bye-bye and she would be walking around with just that fake whipped cream thing (barely) covering her tits. That would get her some attention, to be sure.
The whipped cream on her breasts image reminded me of the scene from Varsity Blues where Ali Larter tried to seduce the QB by wearing a whipped cream bikini. But I’m not sure if she was going for that since the bottom of her costume didn’t at all match Ali’s bottom.
Whatever, she was an interesting way to end a long day of poker and eye candy.