Restrooms, Sets & Jackpots

I’m gonna start this post with something totally off-topic, something that happened before I got to the poker room on Saturday.  It struck me as odd, but then, as someone who has never been a parent, maybe I’m off base. I’d like to get some feedback from parents out there, especially fathers of girls.

I encountered a female in the Men’s Room of a fast-food restaurant.  No, it wasn’t anything like some of my previous encounters with women in the Men’s Rooms in Vegas (see here for one of my better stories of such an occurrence).  Actually it was a little girl accompanied by a man who was, I assume, her father.  I guess I’ve seen this before, but not recently.  And what struck me as odd was that girl appeared to be easily old enough to go to the Ladies Room by herself.

I’m bad at guessing ages of kids, but I would estimate she was 9-10 years old.  Perhaps if she was particularly tall for her age, maybe she was only 7 or 8. She was definitely past the age where a parent would have to hold her hand the entire time you were out in public with her.  And just as I was exiting the Men’s Room, I noticed her coming in, with her father (presumably) right behind.

Well, it struck me as weird.  And then, a few minutes later, as I was enjoying my In-N-Out burger, I noticed that the two of them were sitting not far away.  I couldn’t hear the conversation, but the girl appeared to be conversing normally with her dad.  When they got their food, the girl was eating it without any help from him. I point that out because I had been wondering if the girl had some kind of disability—either mental or physical—that might have made it necessary for her dad to help her in the restroom.  That sure didn’t seem to be the case.

So it really struck me as odd that the guy had to take his daughter to the Mens Room instead of having her use the Ladies Room by herself.  I could more easily understand the other way around….if it was a mom taking her little boy into the Ladies Room.  Much more likely that a little boy would run into a predator in the Men’s Room than a girl would run into a predator in the Ladies Room, right?

Anyway—you dads out there:  At what age did you let your girls use a public Ladies Room instead of taking her into the Men’s Room?

When I got the poker room, I was surprised to find that they had many open seats spread across four 2/3 games.  Never saw that before at that hour.  I assumed that they had just opened up the fourth 2/3 game, perhaps short-handed, and that people started taking off.  My table was almost immediately 7-handed and for a good while we were 6-hand and even 5-handed.  I was thinking they were going to close a table and combine them, but we managed to hang on, and after an hour or so the table was pretty much full the rest of my time there.

It was a session that started out with a great hand and went downhill from there.  Early on, when we were 6-handed, the two designated aggros were both on my immediate left, right next to each other.  I couldn’t get a read on anyone else because everyone else was folding and it was basically just the two aggros going heads up.  Or it folded around and the blinds chopped.  That happened a lot.

So when I got pocket deuces in the cut-off and it folded to me, I didn’t just want to limp in as I might normally do.  I dunno if I’ve mentioned this before, but in the L.A. rooms I play in, they allow you to chop the blinds even if there’s been a limper (but only one).  Yeah, that’s right.  If there’s one limper and it gets to the small blind, one of the blinds will ask if the limper is ok with chopping.  If all three agree, the limper takes back his limp, the blinds take back their blinds, and we move to the next hand.  It’s perfectly acceptable to do that in L.A.  I guess it’s due to the rake structure. If there’s just the limper and the blinds in the hand—or worse, the small blind folds—you’re fighting for basically a $3 pot.

I thought there was a good chance if I limped in, the blinds would ask me to chop.  And since those deuces were the first playable hand I’d seen of the day, it didn’t make sense not to play them.  So I made an unconventional raise to $7.  Only the guy on my immediate left—one of the aggros—called.

Good thing I played it that way.  I hit my set, with two hearts on the board.  Ordinarily I’d lead out there, but I was sure if I checked, the aggro would bet.  So I checked and sure enough, the guy bet $15.  I just called.  The turn was the second spade and once again I checked.  He only bet $15 again.  I check-raised to $40.  His turn bet was so weak that I was sure he was just going for the steal and he’d likely fold.  But no, he called.

A club hit the river and there was no flush or straight possible.  Only a bigger set could beat me.  This time I led out for $50, hoping it wasn’t too much for him to call.  It wasn’t.  After tanking a bit, he put out the $50.  I showed my set of deuces and he mucked.

One of the aggros left a little later with a shitload of chips.  The other one—the one who had paid off my set of deuces—left a bit later after getting felted.

I did win a hand with the dreaded pocket Kings.  Not much drama.  Opened to $15, had two callers.  Two Jacks and a low card on the flop. My $30 c-bet went uncalled.

One of the new players that came to the table was a guy I recognized.  He was the guy who three-bet in front of me when I had the Kings in this post here.  He had made it very clear then that he thought I was the tightest player on the planet, so I spent the rest of the day trying to find an opportunity to exploit that.  He won a couple of big pots early and at one point had his stack up to over $1,100.  I think I may have been spending too much time thinking about him and not the other players.

I overheard him say that he’s planning on moving to Vegas for school and that he plans on playing poker make his expenses while he’s studying.  He’s a good player.  And I’d be shocked if he didn’t remember me from two weeks prior.

I wanted to raise after he limped in to see if he would just assume I had Aces or Kings if I ever raised.  But whenever he limped in, there were too many other limpers for me to do that.  I didn’t think the other players would so easily fold.  And he usually raised instead of limped.  I suppose at least once I should have tried three-betting light against him but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

And then there was one hand where I came really close to attempting a bluff against him. I didn’t write down notes on this hand, but from memory, he opened (maybe $12?) and I decided to call with 8-6 of clubs.  He’d never in a million years think I’d call a raise with that so if I could hit something there, I could really catch him by surprise.  It turned out it was just heads up.  I pretty much whiffed.  There was a 5 and a single club on the flop.  So all I had were back-door flush and straight draws.  He checked and I checked behind.  I did think of betting there, assuming he had an Ace-King type hand and would likely not call with overcards. Not against me.  But I couldn’t find the “bet” button.  The turn card paired the board and was not a club, so no help for me whatsoever.

He bet out.  I think it was $20.  This time I came really, really close to popping it.  I figured he was just trying to steal with overcards, and if I raised, he’d fold like a cheap suit.  But again, after tanking for some time, I just found it too easy to fold, so I did.

Well that was a good decision, as it turned out.  He showed his hand—pocket 5’s.  I don’t think my bet would have gotten to fold his full house. Phew!

The $100 profit I had early completely disappeared.  I was actually getting hands to play.  A lot of pocket pairs, especially.  But they never again turned into sets and I had to let them go.  Then, I had Ace-Jack in middle position.  I opened to $15 and had two callers.  The flop was Queen-high and I tried a $25 c-bet.  There was a call and then a guy made it $100.  I can take a hint. I folded.  The other guy folded too.  The raiser showed Ace-Queen.

There was some excitement later in the afternoon.  But it wasn’t at my table.  We heard some commotion. “Is that a jackpot?”  “No, I don’t think it counts.”  “I think it’s a jackpot.”  I looked over to the table and the dealer was the guy who had been at our table a few downs earlier.  A really nice, friendly guy too.  And he just started to smile and said, “It’s a jackpot.”  And then he called the floor over.

I managed to get a peak.  There were three Aces on the board, and the winning hand was Ace-10.  I believe it was suited.  The losing hand?  Why pocket Kings of course.  So Aces full of Kings is a qualifying losing hand, as long as the winning hand is quads or better and both cards play.  Well the other two cards on the board with the Aces were 3 and 2.  The 10 played.  Jackpot time.

I had noticed when I got there the jackpot was $22K and change.  The losing hand—the player with the Kings—got 50%.  The winning hand got 25% and the rest of the table split the remaining prize.  Later I heard the shift boss telling them the table share was $799.

I saw the board but I can’t remember how it came out.  I don’t think the three Aces were all on the flop.  One of the players at my table said the guy with the Kings had to call $150 on the river (this was a 3/5 game).  He was impressed that he made the call with three Aces out there.  But why the hell not?  He has the second nuts (I don’t think a straight flush was possible).  If the bettor doesn’t have the case Ace, he’s gonna win the pot.  If the bettor has the case Ace, it’s the jackpot!

Unless the guy didn’t know about the jackpot, or didn’t think that hand would qualify.  But even then, how many players are gonna bold Kings full when there’s only one card that beats you?  Without knowing anything about how the action went, would most players at a 3/5 game fold Kings full to a $150 bet even if you didn’t know about the jackpot?

Anyway, being one table away from the bad beat jackpot hitting is now the closest I’ve ever been to hitting a BBJ. 

Table selection is everything.

I had to book a small loss and head home.

The Night I Didn't Rathole

We’re going back to the end of my summer trip for this one.  It was a Saturday and I wanted to play cash at least one other place before settling in at MGM, where I was going to meet Prudence and her sister for a late dinner.  I tried to get into a game at Aria, but this was when the WSOP was still going on and it was well nigh impossible to get into a cash game there at the time.  So I walked over to Monte Carlo and was able to get a seat right away.

It had been over two years since I’d played there last, a session I wrote about here.  And the good thing about this latest session was that I never saw a dealer try to foist a $2 chip on anyone.  They used them just for the rake.

The session was frustrating because I was actually running well and couldn’t really get paid for my decent hands.

Early on I called $10 in late position with Ace-Jack off, it was five to a flop of A-Q-10 rainbow.  I called a $30 c-bet and it was just heads up.  Neither of us bet the rest of the way.  I figured I’d just go for showdown value if I didn’t hit my gutshot, which I didn’t.  My Ace was good.

Then I lost chips raising to $12 with Ace-King, two callers.  I c-bet $20 on a blank board and then folded to a big turn bet with nothing.

I got pocket Aces.  Someone raised to $11 in front of me, I made it $31 and didn’t get a call.

The very next hand I got the dreaded hand.  Yep, pocket Aces and pocket Kings, back-to-back. There were some limpers so I made it $14.  I had two callers and the flop came King-8-3, rainbow.  I only bet $20 but didn’t get a call.

Opened to $10 with pocket Jacks and four of us saw a 10-high flop.  My $30 c-bet was not called.

Very next hand I had pocket 3’s.  Six limpers saw a flop of A-9-3, two clubs. I bet $10 and two players called.  I bet $20 on a blank turn and no one called.

I raised to $12 with Ace-Jack off and had two callers.  I bet $25 on a Jack high flop and took the pot.

See? I was running well and thought I should have made more money for my run.  I started running cold and bleeding chips, and finally left after a couple of hours only up $25.

Over to MGM.  The table was kind of interesting.  The lady on my immediate right was one of the most unlikely looking poker players I had ever seen.  Very well dressed, proper looking middle-aged woman.  I may be being a bit generous with “middle-aged”—it’s hard to say.  But she looked like she would prefer touring an art museum instead of playing poker, if you know what I mean.

She had been pretty friendly with a bunch of the guys (mostly young) at the table before I got there, apparently, and this was continuing when I got there.  It was clear to me almost immediately that despite her appearance, she had spent a lot of time in poker rooms—she was a good, experienced player. She revealed that she usually never plays NLH; her game of choice is PLO.  She said she comes to Vegas from 1000 miles away every two weeks to play PLO.  She can play NLH where she lives but not PLO. She was only playing NLH at MGM this evening because she was waiting for a show.

So I asked her where she plays PLO since it couldn’t be MGM.  She said she plays at Aria.  I said, “You play 1/3 PLO at Aria?”  “No,” she corrected. “2/5.”  Wow. That’s a big game—much bigger than a 2/5 NLH game, I’m sure.  Much, much bigger.  Like I said, just by looking at her, you would definitely not peg her as a poker player, let alone someone who comes to Vegas twice a month to play a big PLO game.  Looks can be deceiving.

Then she started asking some of the guys, who she had obviously been chatting with, what their names were.  Finally someone asked what her name was.  Well, I have to abandon my practice of assigning phony names, there would be no point to this story if I did that.  So I have to reveal her real name—or at least the name she gave us at the table.  “Bertha,” she said.

Bertha?  Really?  I haven’t heard of anyone named Bertha for a zillion years.  Seriously, except in a movie or TV show from the 1950’s or earlier, when have you heard anyone named “Bertha”?  My gut told me that no one under the age of 90 could possibly be named “Bertha” and this lady was nowhere close to that.

So I texted my pals Woody & LM and asked them, if I told them a woman was named Bertha, what was the absolute youngest age she could be?  Woody didn’t respond but LM said 70.  Ok, I think that’s too young but this lady was nowhere near 70 either.

Anyway, there were two other interesting characters at this table.  Sitting on Bertha’s left (and thus, two from me) was a guy I’ll call “Clueless Guy” or CG for short.  I’m calling him because he appeared to be clueless, about poker and other things.  He had a think New York accent and took frequent breaks to smoke.  He had never played poker in a live poker room before and this was his very first visit to Vegas.  He had been living in L.A. for a year or two and his girlfriend from New York was flying in later in the evening.  Now, he took great pride in telling us that she was to arrive at 10PM and that he had told her his flight from L.A. would arrive at 9PM—but it actually arrived at 5PM so he could get his gambling (and drinking) in before she hit town.  He apparently had already lost a bundle in the pit before he sat down at the poker table.

He was a terrible player.  He called almost everything.  Later I noticed when facing a bet, he would tell you exactly what he had.  “I’m on a draw, I dunno if I should go for it or fold.”  Or even, “I have two pair, should I call?”  He would do this before he acted, so if he called, you knew where you stood.  I assure you, at no point was he ever not telling the truth.

Another thing he liked to do was bet his big pairs big—I mean really big.  He’d either call preflop or make normal raises—and then all of a sudden put out a huge bet instead.  I mean a couple of times, with just a limper or two in front of him, he’d bet like $40.  One time the guy on his right said, “Why so much?” as he folded and CG showed pocket Kings.  “I don’t want anyone catching an Ace.” 

He kept buying in for $100 and rebuying, often.  Twice, I saw him get up and go to the podium to buy more chips, so I told him that this wasn’t necessary, he could buy more chips from the dealer.  He had no idea.

And apparently before I arrived he pissed off Bertha because he called her raise with 7-5 offsuit and cracked her Aces.

In other words, he was the kind of player you dream of having at your table. 

He had bonded a bit with the guy on his right, who was in town for a bachelor party (not his own).  Bachelor Party Guy (BPG) did something that really pissed me off, perhaps it shouldn’t have. Earlier, with BPG present, Bertha explained to CG what it meant to chop the blinds and why it was a good idea to do so. I think the second time the situation had come up, CG had actually figured it out and agreed to chop—but I’m not sure if it was with Bertha again or BPG.

Then, CG went on a smoke break and missed his big blind.  And Bertha was also away from the table, so I had to post the big blind while BPG was the small blind.  It folded to him. I had my cards (King-2 off) ready to muck and said, “You wanna chop?”  He didn’t say anything….he just put $17 more on top of his $1 blind.  Maybe he hadn’t heard me.  “You don’t want to chop?”  He just shook his head no.  Fine.  I pushed my two dollar chips to him and returned my cards to the dealer.

Yeah, I was pissed.  I guess I’m always kind of pissed whenever someone doesn’t chop in that situation.  I’ll chop anything, even Aces.  I see no reason not to.  If someone doesn’t want to do it, that’s fine I guess, but what the hell is he raising so big for?  He’s betting $17 to win $2.  How does that ever make sense?  If he really wants to play, limp in (possibly dangerous, I know) or make a smaller raise that might entice me to play if I have a decent but not premium hand.  I mean seriously, what am I calling with there? Note: This guy was not a maniac by any stretch of the imagination.  He was a loose player, standard level of aggression.  It wasn’t like I could put him on a really wide range there.  With only two bucks at stake, I assume he’s got a big pair or a big Ace and why would I risk anything?

So I actually targeted him.  I was committed to getting this guy’s chips—this guy specifically, more so than any other player—just because of what I considered a dick move that cost me a whole two bucks.  I studied him intently, and pretty much ignored everyone else at the table.  I almost never took my eye off, looking to see if I could pick up a tell.

I’d like to tell you that it worked, that I took all of his chips or a big pot off him, but the sad truth is, my grudge was not fulfilled.  He left after not too long, before I ever got a chance get my revenge.

But he helped me get some chips from CG before he left.  He raised to $10, CG called and I called with Queen-Jack offsuit in late position.  I think there was another player or two.  The flop was Queen high, but all spades.  My Jack was a spade, but if a fourth spade hit the board, would that be big enough?  Everyone checked.  A low spade did indeed hit on the turn.  BPG checked but CG bet $40.  Actually, he wanted to bet more.  He put the $40 out and then went back to his stack to grab more chips to add in.  The dealer had to explain the “string bet” rule to him.  There was a reason I called this guy “Clueless Guy.”

I just called, worried about a bigger spade, and BPG folded.  Another low spade hit the turn.  This time CG checked.  I thought the Jack was probably good, but I decided to play it safe and just check behind.  He was such a weird player that he could have checked-raised me big with a smaller spade and put me in a tough situation.  But he showed a 9 of spades and I took the pot.

I limped in with pocket 5’s and someone raised to $15.  He only had $25 behind.  But when CG called it made sense for me to call, One other player came in and we saw a flop of King-5-2.  The short stack shoved for his last $25, but CG folded.  I called and the other guy folded so that closed the action.  My set of 5’s held.

With Ace-King of clubs I raised to $10 and had two callers, one of whom was CG. The flop had one club, two hearts.  I made a $20 c-bet and the other guy folded, and CG openly agonized about what to do.  “Should I chase the draw or not?”  So he basically told me that he had hearts.  He finally called.  The next card was a club, so I knew it couldn’t have helped him.  Thus, with just a draw, I put out $40.  He again said he was on draw but this time he folded.  Poker is so much easier when your opponent tells you what he has.

Just as Prudence showed up and I was ready to leave the game to join her for dinner, I was dealt pocket Queens.  I raised to $10 and only one player called.  The flop was Jack-high and the other played donked out $10.  He was pretty new to the table so I didn’t really have any kind of read on him.  I made it $30 and he called.  We both checked the turn and the river.  The river happened to be a King.  He showed King-Jack offsuit.  Damn, I really should have kept betting.

I had turned my $200 buy-in into $325 when I was ready to cash out.  Although I was planning on playing some more after my dinner break, I didn’t want to tie up my seat in that game for as long as my break would take on a busy Saturday night.  They do allow over an hour away from the table before they pick up but even that might not be long enough.  And I just think it’s rude to tie up a seat without playing for that long.  So I took my chips to the podium to cash out.

Now my buddy Stan had the honor of cashing me out, and it turned out he had timed it to take his lunch break right then so he could join Prudence and her sister for dinner.  So his last official act before taking his break was cashing me out.  And as he was giving me my money, I told him to put on the list as a “phone-in” so I wouldn’t have to wait too long when I was done with socializing to get back into a game.  And so Stan said to me, “OK, but you know you’re gonna have to come in with the $325, right?”  Stan knew I always buy in for $200.  I said, “Well, it’ll probably be an hour before I’m back, so that won’t matter, right?”  And he said, “Come on, you know this.  You have to be out of the game for at least two hours before you can come back in for the minimum.”  I honestly thought it was an hour.  But it didn’t make much of a difference to me, it was only $125 more than my usual buy-in, and I really had no interest in rat-holing anyway.  I told him that was fine.

Stan left our table at the eatery before the rest of us as he had to get back to work.  Prudence and her sister wanted to check out the Slut Parade. so we walked past the ladies lining up.  It was still pretty early so there wasn’t a big crowd, and oddly enough, the crowd consisted of a higher percentage of guys than usual.  This wasn’t so bad for the Prudence and her sister, but in actuality, I think Prudence was more interested in having her sister see just how scantily the girls were clad. Although they did find some nice looking gentlemen who caught their attention, Prudence did express disappointment at what turned out to be more of a “sausage-fest.”

They took off and I returned to the poker room.  I was at the top of the list and there was an open seat.  This time Stan didn’t even ask me how many chips I wanted.  He had a rack with exactly $325 in chips already prepared for me!  It was pretty funny. I gave him the same $325 in bills he had given me an hour earlier but I had a question for him.  “How will the dealer know it’s ok to come to the table with $325?”  After all, the max buy-in for the 1/2 game is $300.  He said, “Because I’m gonna tell him.”  And then, sure enough, Stan left his post and went over to the table he was sending me too, and I saw him whisper in the dealer’s ear that I had to come in with $325 because that’s what I cashed out with less than two hours before.

There was a maniac at this new table.  He had a big stack and he liked to bet big.  Actually, he was all over the map.  He wasn’t afraid to fold (pre or post flop), and he would limp in as well.  But often he would make pretty big preflop raises ($20-$30) and also would sometimes make even bigger three-bets.  Like if someone raised to $8, he’d make it $50 even if no one else was in the pot.

As such, when I got Ace-9 of spades, a hand I would normally raise with, I just limped in and hoped the maniac wouldn’t make it too costly to see the flop.  But someone made it $10 in front of him and the maniac just called.  The flop came Ace-5-5.  The preflop raiser checked, then tried to bet.  It was kind of weird.  He definitely made a motion that everyone read as a check, and the guy behind him checked, then that first guy started reaching for chips.  The dealer of course told him he couldn’t do that.  He denied checking—he said he was motioning to the player next to him to post his small blind.  What?  Since we were already at the flop, that made no sense.  He finally gave up trying to bet and it was checked around.  The turn was an 8 and this time he bet $20.  I called and we were heads up.  The river was a 10.  This time he bet $60.  That seemed like a lot to call there.  I almost folded.  I hadn’t had enough experience with the guy to get any read.  But I made the call.  As soon as I did, he just mucked his cards.  Nice.

Then I got pocket Aces and raised to $10.  This time I would have loved for the maniac to three-bet, but of course, he folded.  Two others called.  The flop was low (8-high, I think) and a player donked out $20.  I made it $50.  He called and then checked in the dark on the turn, which was a 2.  I checked behind.  The river was a 7 and paired the board.  He shoved the rest of his chips--$98.  Did he have a 7?  I tanked and finally decided to call.  He showed pocket 10’s and my Aces were good.  That was a nice pot.

The very next hand, I had pocket Queens and I called $10.  Three of us saw the flop, including the maniac, who was not the preflop raiser.  The flop was Ace high and I called $20 from the preflop raise.  It was still three-ways.  The last two streets were checked around though and my Queens were good.

I was pretty much card dead after that.  But it wasn’t really a long session and when I left after the midnight drawing (didn’t get called), I was able to rack up $615 ($415 profit).  So when Stan saw all my chips I was cashing out, he was happy to claim credit for my big win because he wouldn’t let me rat-hole (which I wasn’t planning on doing anyway).  I just laughed and said that the extra chips didn’t make any difference at all, but he still claimed credit. 

OK, whatever.  It was a pretty decent night of poker.

The Poker Room Manager at the Tropagala Reacts

Here's something different.  

My pal Woody, my good friend and avid blog-reader, just made a video for me.

Woody was mentioned in my last post (here)...so here's another gift he gave me.

I want to be clear, I had nothing to do with this video, nothing at all.  

Except for the fact that I'm posting it on my blog, I guess.

But I think it is hilarious and wanted to share it with my readers.  (Of course, it's all about me and the blog, so how could I not love it?).

I hope you enjoy it as well.

Didn't Their Moms Tell Them to Always Wear Clean Underwear?

New Year's Eve 2013 (Part 3)

(This is the third and final chapter of my New Year's Eve adventure.  You can find Part 1 here and Part 2 here.)

At one point in the session, Abe returned from the Men’s Room with an interesting tidbit of information.  He had witnessed a guy taking a girl in there with him.  He took her into an empty stall, closed the door and proceeded to do….well, we don’t know what.  But it is a safe bet that they did somethi ng that couldn’t be described in a family blog. 

I asked him if he looked at the bottom, below where the door covered, to see if he could better provide us with a guess as to what specifically they were doing.  He denied doing so.  I did point out that it was a shame that I hadn’t witnessed this myself.  After all, “Woman in the Men’s Room” is a label I have used on this blog quite a few times before.  This will be the 9^th such post with that designation.  Oh well, Abe’s reportage of this incident will suffice.

OK, Ok, I’ve stalled long enough.  I know you all come here expecting a serious poker blog, so let’s finally get to the actual poker, shall we?  I was pretty card dead the whole night.  The good thing was, when I played a hand, the flop missed me so completely that it didn’t cost me a lot of money.  After a couple of hours I had lost about a half of my buy-in but had never come close to putting my entire stack in play.   Down to $103, I added a $100 and immediately started getting the exact same cards I was getting before.

The best hand I had during this period was when I had nothing.  I had Ace-Queen in late position and raised to $12.  Three players called.  I totally whiffed on the flop, and it checked to me.   I bet $35 with air and had two caller.  Another miss on the turn.  I checked behind the other players.  Another complete miss on the river.  Both players checked.  I assumed that one of them had at least a small pair.  I decided to bet to see if I could steal it.  I put out $50 and they both folded.  Who says I can’t bluff?  (Of course, it’s possible I had the best hand there.)

A little while later I raised to $10 with Ace-Jack offsuit, and had four callers.  It was a King high flop, and totally missed me, but I took a chance and put out a $35 continuation bet (not always a good idea with so many in the hand).  But no one called.

Then there was a bad hand and I should have known better.  I limped in on the button with Ace-3 clubs.  That was strictly in a desperate attempt to hit a flush so I could get a ticket for the cash drawing.  The flop was Ace-3-2, two hearts.  I bet $10 and had two callers.  A five of clubs on the turn put four to a straight out there.  I checked, but called a $20 bet (just the two of us).  And when a Jack of spades hit the river, I checked and called a $25 bet.  Of course he had the straight.  In fact, he was playing the mighty deuce-four!  How could I fall for that?

This takes us to Brent’s 2AM down.  Recall I was ready to leave but was having too much fun discussing “genres”.  So I stayed.  I started his down with about $150 in front of me, so I was stuck for about $150.  And unfortunately, I didn’t take really good notes on the hands during this down because I was having too much fun discussing and watching those genres.  So I’ll do the best I can since this was also the best poker for me of the night (another reason why Brent’s down was so much fun).

In early position, Abe raised to $10.  I was in the Big Blind with King-Queen of clubs.  To me, that’s not a good hand to call a raise out of position with, especially a raise from a solid player like Abe, not some maniac.  It’s too easily dominated.  But almost everyone at the table called Abe’s raise.  I think a few players from the Wynn called.  At least one player from The Bike in L.A. called.

No, I guess four had called so it was pretty easy for me to call there as well, making the pot $60 preflop.  The flop was Queen high, one club.   I checked and Abe bet.  Now my best recollection is that he bet $20 although that seems awfully small for the size of the pot.  But one player called and so did I.  The turn was a club, so when Abe bet $30 (I think) and the other guy called, I called.  At this point I was thinking Abe might have Ace-Queen and I need to hit the flush to win.

So a low club hit the river giving me the second nut flush.  I bet $35.  Abe tanked for a good long while.  He couldn’t put me on any hand that made sense.  He didn’t think I would have called the flop with just a back-door flush draw.  He didn’t tell me afterwards, he was saying this while he was thinking about his action.  Finally he called and so did the other guy. 

He did indeed have Ace-Queen.  The other guy King-Queen, same as me (if you ignore the fact that I had the flush).  In that one hand, I went into the black from being the red. I won over $200 and was now up for the night.  And I had earned my very first drawing ticket (for the flush) after over 8 hours of poker!  Brent offered me the ticket and I declined.  There was no way I was gonna hang around until 6 in the morning!  I’m crazy, but not that crazy.  I later apologized to Abe for hitting the backdoor flush on him.  At least this time a lot of the money I won came from other players, not just him.  (Edited to add:  I've heard from Abe and he has a different recollection of the hand, see addendum below)*

The very next hand I won again.  I didn’t write down the details and couldn’t remember the next morning.  I know I had Ace-5 and presumably limped in from the small blind.  I hit two pair and this time it held.  It was a much smaller pot than the first.  But still nice to win.  Abe was shouting, “kill pot, kill pot.”

A few hands later I raised pre with Ace-King and only one player called, an older gentleman.  He led out on a board that was Ace high.  I just called.  I really suspected he had two pair. I kept calling and I think we both checked the river.  He mucked when I showed my hand.  Note:  I guess I should have insisted he show first, even though there was no bet on the river.  But at this point I knew I was almost done playing and didn’t really care what he had if I could drag the pot.

I managed to lose some money on a few other hands but when Brent was pushed out, it was 2:30 AM and I had gone from down $150 to up nearly $200 in less than 30 minutes.  And had a blast checking out ladies and joking about genres.  It was a great fun.  So, since I couldn’t imagine the next dealer (I can’t recall who it was) making “genre” jokes, I picked up and cashed out. Playing 8-1/2 hours of poker over two days, two months, and two years was enough.

I went people watching.  And you can easily guess the type of people I was watching for.  As I’ve implied, there were plenty of really attractive, minimally dressed ladies walking by the poker room all night.  And when I had taken a dinner break, I walked by the night club and was surprised to see they were already lining up to get in.  This was around 8-8:30, whereas they usually don’t start queuing up until 10-10:30. 

But at a quarter the three, there were still plenty of people near the club, either trying to get in, or leaving, or somewhere in between.  Generally speaking, the outfits the club-goers were wearing were no different than what I’ve described in the past.  Just more of the same.  But really, it never gets old. 

And then, and then….well, I saw this girl who was so drunk she could not walk under her own power.  Apparently she was leaving the club after a night of a few too many adult beverages.  Holding her up on one side of her was her girlfriend.  Holding her up on the other side of her was some guy.  Her friend too?  Someone she met in the club?  I have no idea.  But the two of them were practically carrying her as they headed toward the parking area.  They had a long way to go.

My eyes were scanning the whole place (there were so many wonderful things to see, you couldn’t take it all in) and I was already more or less passed this trio when I noticed them.  I saw the girl could barely walked and I turned around to see if she was going to fall.  I saw her wobble from the back and I couldn’t help noticing that her very, very, very short dress was hiked up quite a bit and I could see, well, at least 1/3 of her bare butt cheeks from this angle, totally uncovered by the dress.  Ahem.  And since the girl was a bit on the heavy side, there was a lot of butt cheek to see.

Just then, the trio stopped and the two sober folks bent down and tried to get her heels off. It was tough enough for her to walk in this condition.  Trying to walk totally smashed and on heels was asking way too much.

Now I after to interject here that my pal Woody, upon hearing and reading about the Slut Parade, has often wondered what percentage of these club-going ladies go “commando.”  Of course, I have no way of knowing.  But ever since he brought it up, I have on occasion tried to determine if I could ascertain if any particular girl I saw might indeed be lacking in the panty-department.  This woman here seemed to be an excellent potential candidate for my research.  Of course, she could have been wearing a thong.

So purely for the benefit of science, and for the benefit of my pal Woody—and not for any prurient interest of my own, I assure you—I doubled back and moved in front of the young lady.

As I did this, her friends were making half-hearted efforts to pull down her dress from either side.  But I couldn’t help noticing several guys—at least four or five—who were parked in front in front of her enjoying the view.  And her friends didn’t seem to care about this.

I didn’t get the best look, but I’m here to tell you that this was the first vagina I saw in 2014.  But then, the year was less than three hours old.  Ok, so I know what you’re all saying.  I can hear you. “Pics or it didn’t happen.”

Fair enough. I couldn’t imagine actually whipping out my camera phone and trying to snatch a picture of this poor inebriated woman at her most vulnerable.  Sorry.  But not all guys have my sense of morality.  In fact, one of the guys parked in front of her did indeed snap a few pics of her.  His camera was pointed right below her belt (if she had been wearing one), make no mistake.

Shocking, really shocking.

Again, her two friends couldn’t seem to care less that he was taking pictures of her like that.  They were too busy trying to prevent her from falling over (which would have given everyone one hell of a view) while they desperately tried to get her heels off.

So I can’t prove it with pics.  I’m not that sleazy.  But I bet, I just bet, that the guy who did take the pics posted them online somewhere.  Somewhere there must be a website of drunk girls inadvertently flashing the beav.  I bet this girl is on it.

Finally they got her shoes off and proceeded to more or less carry her towards the parking area.  I don’t know if they made it or not.  In hindsight (so-to-speak), I probably should have followed them.  No, no….that would have been taking things too far.

Besides, just a few minutes later I saw a group of especially attractive young ladies hanging out together, just talking.  One of them was sitting on the ledge of a pillar.  She had on an incredibly short dress.  She was not especially drunk, and she was holding her purse in her lap.  But one of her girlfriends with her, standing up, caught my eye.  There was something about her outfit I found interesting.  I’m guessing it had to do the area between her neck and her belly button.  Just a hunch.  As I was noticing the girl standing, the girl sitting down suddenly stood up, and before, she had a chance to pull down her dress she convinced me that she too had neglected to put on her undies before going out for the evening.  Hoo-ha #2.

If I may philosophize for a moment, I have to wonder how much—if at all—these women really care about accidentally flashing total strangers like this.  Back in my day, it would have quite scandalous and humiliating.  A woman might be forced to leave town and even get a whole new identity.  Now, I’m not so sure.  Surely a woman who puts on a ridiculously short skirt and leaves the panties at home knows she’s at great risk of this happening.  Does she care that someone she’s never gonna see again gets a quick look at her like that?  I mean, as long as nobody got a picture of it….oh wait.

Besides, according to the article here, 2013 was the year of the very visible vagina.  Which leaves me wondering what 2014 will be the year of?  The very visible cervix?

By around 3:30 in the morning, I figured the traffic would have died down enough for it to be ok to get on the streets.  I had observed that the roadblocks were no longer on the strip and that cars were coming and going on it.  Time to put New Year’s Eve 2013 to bed. 

I’m definitely glad I decided to spend my first ever New Year’s Eve in Vegas.

*-Addendum:  According to Abe, it was a limped pot, he didn't raise pre and he was in the big blind, not me.  I limped from the button.  He only bet $10 on the flop and $30 on the turn. He agreed that I bet $35 on the river and both called.  My problem with his recollection is that I would have won quite a bit less money if he is right, and I'm pretty sure I won over $200, which wouldn't be the case if he's right.  I guess next time in town, I'll ask to look at the surveillance tape.  :) )

Also, for another look at NY's Eve in Vegas, and a great trip report from a reader from England, check out Ben's report here.