The Lady With Back-to-Back Boats

Seeing as how I spent an entire week in Vegas totally card dead, most of the interesting hands I witnessed didn’t involve me.  So I have to borrow other people’s hands to get blog posts.

This took place on a late Sunday afternoon at Planet Hollywood, with the first weekend of March Madness winding down.  In case you didn’t know, PH relocated their poker room recently for the second time in just a short while.  Originally, their room was in the center of the casino, near a bar.  Then they got relocated to a terrible location, near the sports book but practically in the mall that surrounds the casino.  Honestly, it was just about out of the casino.  But now it is back in the casino, towards the very front of it in fact (assuming you consider the front of the casino the side that you enter from the Strip).  It’s right next to the party pit, which has table games dealt by young women wearing lingerie type outfits and features girls in bikinis dancing behind the pit tables during the evenings.

The new location is a huge upgrade from the location near the mall, and overall, I like it.  I think there are a few areas where they could put some additional barriers to make it more of a “room” and keep passersby out, but by and large it is a good spot.

It didn’t take me long to figure out the table I was at was juicy.  There were big stacks galore, and most of the players were willing to put their chips in play.  Furthermore, some of those big stacks were a bit distracted trying to follow the basketball action, exactly why you come to Vegas this weekend.  When I saw the early action, my eyes kind of lit up.  If only this was the session where I would start getting cards, I thought, I could make up for a lot of lost money in a short time.  Please, poker gods, please….give me some cards this time!

It was not to be.  Early on I had pocket 10’s, raised, had one caller and took it down with a c-bet.  I only got one more pocket pair in the rest of a nearly 2-1/2 hour session (I’ll get to that hand later).  Never saw Ace-King, suited or otherwise.  Suited connectors?  What the hell are those?  Does 8-5 of hearts count?

Very early on I saw an interesting hand.  Guy to my left raised, another guy three-bet, and the first guy tanked and then called.  The guy on my left looked familiar to me.  He said he was from out of town (mid-west), but I’d bet anything I’d played with him before, most likely at the MGM.  Anyway, the flop came Queen-10-8.  And the familiar looking guy led out with a 2/3’s pot sized bet into the preflop three-bettor.  Both these guys had stacks in the neighborhood of at least $300 when the hand started.  The three-bettor wasted little time in announcing “all-in” and my buddy to the left went into the tank.

It was then that Dirty Kyle started talking about the hand.  Dirty Kyle?  Yeah, that’s what I immediately called him in my mental notes.  It turns out this guy had an uncanny resemblance to someone I know named “Kyle”—I mean really, it was almost scary.  The “dirty” part comes from the big difference between this guy and the Kyle I know, but I’ll get to that in a bit.

At first, Dirty Kyle gave some meaningless commentary, like “Oh wow, tough spot…that’s a lot of money.  Big pot.”  But then he said, “And Jack-9 makes a straight.”  Dirty Kyle was sitting to my immediate right so I heard him plain as day, but I couldn’t believe the dealer wouldn’t have heard that as well.  Or the player thinking about his action, for that matter.  I looked at the dealer and he said nothing.  Did he not hear?  I was a bit surprised and not at all happy.  I mean if this clown does it once, he’s likely to do it again….maybe when I’m actually in a hand.

Anyway, he kept chattering, but the rest of what he said was more innocuous.  Eventually my neighbor announced “call.”  The other guy flipped over a couple of Aces and my neighbor did nothing.  The board ran out, and my neighbor stared at it a bit before mucking.

My neighbor was felted and reached into his wallet for three more $100 bills. The other guy asked what he had, and he said he had Kings (you know, as in the dreaded pocket Kings). Of course he hadn’t shown but it seemed totally believable.  Although, in that case, I do wonder why he flat-called the three-bet instead of coming over the top.  Not that it would have changed anything of course.  He did though kind of explain his flop bet.  He said he was sure, yes absolutely sure, the guy had Aces (how could he be sure—in the brief time I was there, he hadn’t played like a guy who would only three-bet Aces).  So he figured by leading out, he might get the guy thinking he had a set of Queens and gotten him to fold.  Not sure I think that was a very good plan.  But if he was sure he had Aces, and he didn’t want to get it all in preflop, I don’t think he has to lose all the rest of his chips there.

Now, let me get back to Dirty Kyle.  Dirty Kyle had a really, really foul mouth.  He was uncouth, rude and extremely vulgar.  It sounded like he had been raised in a stable or something.  He was late 20’s, early 30’s and had a southern accent.  At one point, while thinking about a bet, he said, “I went to University of Georgia so I don’t know math.”  I’m sure University of Georgia must be so proud of their prized student.

Now I don’t offend easily.  But he said something so vulgar that it really was off-putting to me. I know, I know….when a female is a bit off-color, I eat it up and report on it for you.  I love those “woman said” stories.  So maybe it’s just a gender thing.  The one thing he said that really, really bothered me was so vile that I can’t repeat it here, because I think it would be hypocritical to tell you it was so offensive and then actually say it myself in my blog.  So let me just say that he referred to a woman (and her intimate anatomy) in the must crude, offensive way imaginable. 

Now, I get that if he’s with his buddies, and they all have a certain sensibility, it might be fine to talk that way when they’re all out together.  But here he was at a table with 9 other people he didn’t know, and even though there weren’t any women at the table, I just found it disgusting that he would say something so foul in front of strangers.  He was drinking but not acting at all inebriated.  In fact, he was saying he was controlling his alcohol input because he didn’t want to fly hung-over.  Because the only he hated more than flying hung-over was….well, was what he said that I can’t repeat.

Although there was no female present, I did see a lady dealer about to push in, but she backed away for some other reason just as he was being so crude.  I don’t think she heard it, but she might have.

He said many other low-class things, swore all over the place, and it was not at all entertaining.  Between his foul mouth and the fact that he had talked about the hand in play, I seriously considered changing tables. Even before that, I wondered if I should complain to the floor about the guy talking about the hand.  I hate doing that though, I don’t want to get the dealer in trouble.  And I didn’t want to get Dirty Kyle mad at me.  He also expressed some political views I won’t repeat which made me think he wouldn’t take any shit from anybody if it came to that.  He was also very tall, and sat sideways at the table and thus almost took up three spots, including part of mine.

I decided to stay and see if he did any more talking about the hands (he never did). I just really wanted to be in this game in case I ever got a hand, so I sucked it up.

The irony for me was that the Kyle I know that he looked like is the complete opposite in temperament and comportment.  You would never, ever hear even a mildly objectionable word come of out of my Kyle’s mouth.  Never.  Hence, “Dirty” Kyle.  I guess I could have also called him “Bizarro Kyle.”  But he wasn’t the complete opposite, because my Kyle, like Dirty Kyle, is tall too.

About three dealers later, a female dealer actually misheard something I said—I believe I was in a hand, unlikely as that is—and I thought she may have warned me about saying something about the hand. After the hand was over, I asked her what she had said and she indeed say she wanted to make sure I didn’t say anything about the hand.  I told her I would never do that but I mentioned that my neighbor had done just that much earlier—and didn’t get a warning.  Dirty Kyle was visiting the Men’s Room at the time so I could speak freely.  Actually, I don’t know if Dirty Kyle was in the Men’s Room or not.  He left the table making a rather low-class reference to needing to urinate.  For all I know, he went out on the Strip and just whipped it out and pissed right on the sidewalk.  It wouldn’t have surprised me.

Anyway, I explained to the dealer what happened with the Aces vs. Kings hand, and she was surprised that the dealer didn’t say anything.  So I asked the guy on my left about it, since it was his big (disastrous) hand, and he said he hadn’t heard the guy.  But he was deep in thought, running scenarios thru his brain, I still think the dealer must have heard him.

A couple of the big stacks took off (including the guy who doubled up with the Aces) but the game was still pretty good.  An attractive woman replaced one of them.  Dirty Kyle immediately started flirting with her even though his opening comment was about how impressive her wedding ring was and that “someone must really love you.”  In the course of their conversation, he mentioned that he was engaged and I was floored.  Who was the woman who would want to marry this vile, loathsome, vulgar creature?

The woman got into a couple of very memorable hands before long.  I don’t remember the preflop action, but on a board of 8-5-2, the lady led out and her opponent announced all-in (stacks were at least $200).  She snap called and neither showed.  An 8 hit the turn, followed by a 9.  The lady turned over pocket deuces.  Flopped a set, turned a boat.  But the other guy turned over 9-8.  Seriously?  He got it all in when all he had was top pair, lousy kicker, and went runner runner to catch a bigger boat than she turned.  Ouch, that’s a bad suckout.  I guess the guy shoved the flop thinking he would get her to fold, not realizing that she had a monster.  That’s kind of sick.

If the lady was upset, she sure didn’t show it.  She calmly reached into her purse and re-bought.  And so, on the very next hand—honestly, the very next one—the flop was 8-6-3.  Dirty Kyle led out and it folded to the woman, who raised.  Her raise ($105, if memory serves) was more than half her stack, but instead of putting her all in Dirty Kyle just called—after some tanking, I might add. 

The turn was another 8, and this time Dirty Kyle checked, and the lady shoved.  The pot was now huge, and Dirty Kyle went in the tank for about a day and a half.  That was crazy because her bet was well less than $100 and the pot was huge.  Unless he was naked bluffing, there was no way he could possibly find a fold there.  But he took forever. Then, he actually showed me his cards.  Now I must say I had put the woman on pocket 3’s….but no, that was the hand Dirty Kyle showed.  Of course, I maintained my poker face and said nothing.  But I’m thinking, “You have a freaking boat there, jerk, you can’t possible fold for that amount of money.”  Finally, he did indeed call.  The river was a blank and of course the lady turned over pocket 6’s, which is what I assumed she had when I saw Dirty Kyle’s pocket 3’s. 

So get this, that woman had full houses in back-to-back hands. Can’t recall ever seeing that before.  And btw, in both hands, the pair on the board was 8’s.  Of course she only won one of them, but still, that was pretty incredible.  Dirty Kyle was really pissed, which made me very happy.

Interesting side note: There was another woman at the table, an older lady.  She wasted no time in asking Dirty Kyle what the hell he was thinking about there.  “You have a full house, how can you fold?  Look at the size of the pot.  And it wasn’t that much to call.  You can’t possibly fold there.”  Here’s the weird part.  I swear I heard him say, “I wasn’t sure what she had.  I was thinking maybe she had a flush.”  WTF?  You already had a full house, you vile idiot.  You’re beating a flush.  Maybe he was more drunk than I thought?

The back-to-back boat lady then went on a real heater.  She started dragging pot after pot.  The only other hand that I remember was when a guy flopped a set of 5’s. She called him on every street.  When an Ace hit the river, she shoved, he called and she turned over 3-2 (offsuit, naturally) for a wheel.  Pretty sure she had called a preflop raise with that hand too.  The guy was felted and left in disbelief.

And now…back to my card deadness.  Without playing much, I had managed to work my stack down to about $115-$120.  On the button, I had deuce-four offsuit.  It was raised to $10 and after two callers, I decided to see if I could turn things around hitting with the Grump.  So four of us saw a flop of 9-5-3, two spades (the 5 & 3).  My four was a spade, so in addition to the open ender I had a back door steel wheel draw.  The preflop raiser lead out for $20, it folded to me and I called.  I suppose I should have raised, even shoved, but I just didn’t have the confidence to do that.  The turn was a blank and this time he bet $50.  I probably should have shoved if I was going to continue, not because I had enough to get him to fold (I didn’t), but so I’d get more money if I hit.  But again, I couldn’t pull the trigger.  I decided to call anyway, hoping that I was “due” and this was the hand that would start my turn around.  I know that sounds totally contradictory with what I just wrote, about not having the confidence to shove, but that’s what happens when you’re in a big downswing.  He didn’t bet the river, a blank, and actually won the hand with Ace-high (Ace-10 of spades, he missed his flush draw).

I had less than $40 remaining.  By the time I started fumbling around to find my wallet to get more chips, the next hand had been dealt, so I was playing the hand short-stacked.  My plan was to hit the Men’s Room after I folded, come back and top off my stack.

But the trip to the Men’s Room would have to wait.  I looked down at pocket 10’s.  This was only the second pocket pair I’d seen all day and both times it was 10’s.  I raised to $10.  The big blind—the guy who won the last hand off of me with Ace-high—made it $50.  It folded back to me and of course I called with my piddling remaining stack. 

The guy didn’t realize that the button had called my $10 and flipped over his hand—Ace-Queen offsuit.  He immediately covered up his cards but the button folded.  He turned his Ace-Queen back up and I didn’t show my hand (dunno why).  The flop came Ace-Queen-X of course. Two spades. Two more otherwise blank spades followed, and since his Ace was the spade he went from flopped two pair to the nut flush.  The fact that I had the 10 of spades didn’t matter at all.

So then, now down a full buy-in, I just decided to call it a session.  No re-buy for me.  I’d given it my best shot, 2-1/2 hours, and still couldn’t buy a hand.  Happened a lot on this trip.