There's No Place Like Home, There's No Place Like Home

The Nightmare Before—And After—Christmas

Chapter 12

Good news folks!  This is the 12th and final chapter in my car woes saga. That's right, this is the end of this seemingly endless chronicle. The previous chapter can be found here.  And you can find all the posts in this epic tale using the label "Stranded in Vegas."

And speaking of the previous chapter, I need to return to an incident I described last time as I apparently misreported it (and also, didn't quite understand what was happening).  My good friend LM left a comment on that post, pointing something out to me, which I subsequently discussed with her personally.  And I tend to agree with her interpretation.

I'm referring to the incident I discussed about the young lady I passed after the new year had been rung in, who was sitting down near Hakkasan. She was sitting with her legs apart and in the brief moment before I could look away—I am, of course, a gentleman—it did appear to me that she was, as they say, commando.  I also realized that, when I noticed her, she was looking directly at me.  And as I looked away out of respect, I did notice that she looked down. But more importantly, I noticed that she made no effort whatsoever to conceal herself.  She could have easily moved her legs together.  She did not—even though she had definitely seen me briefly looking in her direction. I kept moving, turning my eyes straight ahead, no longer looking in her direction, until she was totally out of my sight line.

Well, LM's reaction surprised me.  She said, "Rob, she flashed you."  I asked, incredulously, "You mean on purpose?"  And she replied, emphatically, "Yes!"   "Seriously?"  "Absolutely."  She insisted there was no way the girl was wearing flesh-colored panties.  She was showing off the goods.  And here I was thinking that the poor girl should have joined me a few days earlier when I was in the Primm Outlet Mall buying underwear. 

Now since LM is a woman, I have to take her reaction quite seriously.  It is LM's opinion that this young lady, perhaps feeling no pain from celebrating the ringing in of the New Year, purposely exposed herself to me.

I have to admit I am naïve.  A woman would really do that to a perfect stranger?  I mean, if the roles were reversed, and it was guy flashing a woman, he would have been subject to arrest.

It's 2019, and we no longer accept double standards.  Should I have reported this young lady to security?  I can't imagine a guy doing that.  But we are in a new era.  Guys can be victims of Indecent exposure, same as women.

Of course I didn't report it (except on the blog).  But I suppose I should have.

Now I feel so used. I was a victim!

So now it is a new day….a new year, actually. New Year's Day was pretty uneventful, car wise.  But I did get a lovely early wake-up call courtesy of the good folks at the Gold Coast.  Having gotten to sleep sometime after 4am after a fine time on NY's Eve, it was no fun to be awakened from a sound sleep by hearing an announcement blasting into my room. "Attention:  We are investigating the source of the alarm you just heard, and will advise you when we find out it's cause."  This was approximately 8:30am.  Of course, I hadn't heard any alarm.  Just the announcement of it.  I had fallen soundly back asleep when, 15 minutes later, I heard another announcement.  "Attention:  We have determined the alarm you heard was a false alarm.  Sorry for the inconvenience."  Good to know.

Since I slept a good part of the day away, I didn't leave the room until it was time to head out for dinner and poker.  The car, thankfully, had no visible leaks.  This was, in theory, my last night in town. I had booked three nights through Agoda when I was at Buffalo Bill's as you will recall.  But my pals LM and Woody expressed concern that driving home on the first day after the New Year's holiday was a bad idea. Traffic figured to be a nightmare that day, and with a car that I still wasn't sure was 100% fixed, it seemed too high a risk. Getting into a huge traffic jam just seemed like asking the car to overheat again.  So sometime during my initial three-day stay, I had gone to the front desk and asked about staying another night.  It was fine, and this time the rate was only $34 (plus $22 resort fee).  A vast improvement over the $150 plus I had paid for the first three nites there!

I ended up playing at the Venetian, mostly because it was the only place I had enough comps at to get a nice, free dinner.  A sit-down dinner at Café Lux sure sounded good after some of the meals I had been eating.  I even got a salad!  BTW, of all the "coffee shop" style restaurants in the Strip casinos, Café Lux at the V is probably the best.  It is amazingly reasonably priced for a place as fancy as the Venetian and the quality is quite good.  I think the meal I got was about 2/3's the price of what I would have paid at the sports bar next to the MGM poker room.

The poker that night was not worth talking about.  Just a totally meh session.

So we move to Wednesday, the 2nd, and I was supposed to leave the next day.  But when I went down to check on the car, I spotted a leak.  Seriously?  Yeah, seriously.  There was nothing to do but pay a visit to TC.  Sigh. 

He said something about it "leaking from the top" and started working on it.  I spent most of the time in the office, wondering if I was ever going to get home.  I started getting a little desperate.  No matter what happened that day, I was never gonna feel good about driving the 280 mile distance home in the car.

I started Googling to see if I could find a service to actually transport the car all the way from Vegas to my house.  My thought was, I knew such services existed, and if I could have them take the car with all my stuff inside, I could just hop on a plane to L.A. (I saw flights as cheap ast $57 one way) and get my car in a day or two, unpack all my stuff, and take it down to the Wiz and get it fixed properly.  I actually found a place that would give me quote over the interent.  It was $440 to transport my car to L.A.  I was considering it.

This happened when I was ready to go to lunch so fortunately I had a couple of Kind bars on me that I ate so I could take my meds.  After about three hours of me just waiting there, TC finally said it was ready.  I had him talk to Woody.  I'm sure Woody said something about pressurizing the cooling system.  When he was done with Woody, TC said to me, "Give me another half hour."

About thirty minutes later, he came back to me and said it was ready.  And he proudly said, "I blew air in it.  No leaks."

OK then.  Obviously my next move was to stress the car.  I headed over to Red Rock but ended up across the street at Costco for a late lunch/early dinner.  And added more coolant when I was done.  Then I stopped by a CVS to get some much needed supplies, including my breakfast protein drink that I had run out of.  I also picked up a couple of bottles of water and soda.

That's important because when I got to Gold Coast and grabbed the bag with the soda in it, the cheap plastic bag broke and one of the bottles rolled under the car.  I didn't want to move the car to retrieve it, as I worried about running over the bottle.  So I got down on my hands and knees and was just able to retrieve it.  But in standing up after, I lost my balance and fell on my ass, and alkso banged up my knee. And I came thisclose to smacking my head into the pavement.  When you're running bad, you're running bad.

I decided I needed another day in Vegas to make sure the car was ok, especially because I wanted to add coolant to it a few more times before making the trip.  I went to the front desk and extended my stay again.  This time it was $40 (plus the $22 resort fee).  A bargain.

I had a column for Ante Up due on Friday.  Which meant I had to spend Wednesday evening working on it.  So yet another evening paying for a room in Las Vegas and not even playing poker.  And as I've described, it was really uncomfortable trying to type up a column working with a very low chair and a very high desk.  It took longer because I had to keep getting up every few minutes to walk around.

Since I'd eaten at Costco so late, I didn't need a real dinner, so I got the brilliant idea of just getting a salad at the Subway.  It sounded like a good idea until they rung it up.  Somehow they charged me $8.25 (plus tax) for it.  WTF?  Pro tip: Don't ever get just a salad at Subway.

The next day I went down to my car and held my breath.  And saw some fresh liquid underneath it.  Damn it.  But when I moved my car I saw it wasn't green.  I sopped it up with a paper towel and took the paper towel back to TC.  He determined that it was transmission fluid.  TC said it would probably last 3-6 months before it was a problem because it was such a small leak. He had another conversation with Woody, who determined that it would likely be ok for the drive home.  But he said to play it safe, I should buy a bottle of transmission fluid and keep it with me just in case.

That didn't take long.  This time I decided to stress the car by going Teriyaki Madness for lunch, the same location that I hit on my first attempt to leave town the previous Saturday.  Everything was good and this time the restaurant even had salad.

On the way back I noticed there was an AutoZone right near there so I picked up the transmission fluid.  I managed to get a few hours of work in, had dinner once again at the Subway and finished up my column that evening.  So yet another evening of no poker even though I was paying for a room.

If you're keeping score, I stayed seven more nights in Vegas (or Primm) than I planned to, during one of the most expensive periods of the year.  Of those seven nights, I didn't even play poker for four of them.

When I woke up the next day, ready to pack up and go home (I hoped), I was nervous as hell.  And I was actually sick to my stomach.  It was nerves, but I was somewhat nauseated.

But I packed up.  I mentioned previously that I would have preferred to valet the car the night before leaving so I could use the bellman for my luggage.  But again, there was the nasty problem of the car seats not being adjustable.  So I spoke to the valet the day before, told him of this and he said, "Well, if I can't fit in the car, I can't park it."  I asked if there was an alternative, and he said it would be ok for me to park the car in the valet lane (briefly) so the bellman could load the car.

And that's how I handled it.  After checking for leaks—and there was just a little transmission fluid underneath, nothing else—I brought the car to the valet lane and had the bellman take my bags to it.  Saved my back, no doubt.

I wasn't hungry, so I ditched my original plan of eating one more meal at that Gold Coast Subway.  I packed Kind bars and that was my lunch while I was driving, once my stomach settled down.

With much trepidation, I took off and headed south on the 15, my eye glued to the temperature gage.  Fortunately there was very light traffic.  I made it to Primm without incident and headed up that long climb up the interstate at the beginning (or end) of California. That was really nerve-wracking, climbing that hill in a car that may have an overheating problem.  But there was no trouble. Once it made it through there without incident (and with the needle on the temp gauge not budging past where it was supposed to be), I was able to relax a little bit.

Initially Google forecasted an easy ride with no delays, but as I got a little past Barstow, I got a message saying that traffic ahead was getting bad and they had an alternative route that would save me 27 minutes due to increasing traffic on the 15.  I thought I knew the route—Pearblossom Highway, a route I'd taken numerous times. It is a two-lane highway and much less preferable than the freeway. Under normal traffic, it's slightly shorter distance-wise but longer in drive time. If it was a 5 or 10 minute saving I would have passed on it.  But  a half hour was a big deal, and I was just so eager to get home.  I took the alternate route.

It really was an alternate route.  Only part of the way was on Pearblossom, it had me cut over to some road I'd never been on before.  At first it was a brand new road and smooth as silk.  But eventually the road turned to total crap.  Ugh.

But I guess it did save me time and I did make it home, safe and sound.  I have to tell you….I was never so happy to be home from Vegas in my life.

Epilogue:  Early the next week, Woody agreed to meet me at The Wiz's shop.  Woody wanted to make sure he explained to the Wiz all his theories about what had gone wrong, and also wanted to make sure I got the best price for the work.  And besides, Woody just likes visiting these guys at the shops he does business with.  Any excuse to schmooze with the workers will get him down there.

But get this, when we got there, we found out that the Wiz wasn't in that day!  He was out of town.  Yikes.  Fortunately, his brother was there and helped us out. He checked things out and it turned out I needed a few parts to get rid of the check engine lights.  I could order those things (two knock sensors and a crankshaft position sensor) off of eBay and bring them back in for the final repair.

And I had him check out the seats.  He rather quickly determined, in contradiction of what TC told me, it was indeed the fuse (or fuses).  He downloaded a schematic from the internet and redid the fuses (not sure if he had to replace any or just moved them around, whatever) and suddenly both the passenger seat and the driver's side seat worked perfectly fine.  Apparently, in the process of repairing the driver's side window before leaving for Vegas, the fuses had been blown and replaced and then not reconnected properly.  So it was just a human error.

However, when I pulled out of his shop, I noticed a new problem….the windows no longer worked!  Seriously, that was the issue at the very beginning of this tale; we had now come full circle.  I had to go around the block, pull back in and tell the Wiz's brother about the window.  He got the schematic and realized his goof.  He played with the fuses for a few seconds and then everything was working, the seats, the windows, everything.  Phew!

And by the way, for the work he did that day, he charged me nothing.  I'm sure that wouldn't have been the case if Woody hadn't been there with me.

Anyway, the next week, after receiving the parts through eBay I went back to see the Wiz and had him install the new sensors. This time the Wiz was there, and guess what?  When he had been off the week before, he was in…Las Vegas.  How ironic. I didn't find out if he was there when I was, but I was thinking I could have had him fix the car up there. When LM heard this, she said it would have been funny if he had been driving back the same day I was, passed me, recognized the car and stopped and fixed it up right on the 15.  Ha.

So that's my 12-part story of why I spent a week I didn't want to in Vegas at the end of my last Vegas trip.  It was bad luck, bad timing and a bad repair job.  TC is a very honorable, dedicated man.  But he might not be the best auto mechanic in the world.

And now you know why it's no fun to be stuck in Vegas for an extra week.

"I Put The Over/Under at 2-1/2....."

The Nightmare Before—And After—Christmas

Chapter 11

Warning:  This post will have some actual poker content!  That's right, even though this post is the next chapter in my car troubles saga, I have decided to include my New Year's Eve festivities—in an actual casino, playing poker—as part of it.  Up until now, I've skipped over the parts where I got to a poker room to play, planning on catching up with those stories later.  But for this night only, I will discuss my long poker session that took place immediately after the lost radiator cap incident.  It makes sense, because I was only in Vegas to play on this night because of the car problems.  And besides, I know you folks are all hungry for some poker content by now, right?  Oh, and I just might have a few words to say about the scantily clad young ladies dressed to the nines for NY's Eve as well.

As a reminder, the previous chapter can be found here.  And you can find all the posts in this epic saga using the label "Stranded in Vegas."

I left you hanging on NY's Eve, around 5:45pm, with my radiator cap secured, hoping I could make it to the MGM before they closed all the streets for the big New Year's celebration.

I decided to see if Google Maps had a suggested route that was still open.  I could see from the map they knew a lot of the roads were closed. But they suggested an interesting route, which they said was "fastest route due to road closures."  It was actually the simplest route—straight down Flamingo, turn right on the Strip, turn left at Tropicana.  Now, I spend my entire time in Vegas steadfastly avoiding driving on the Strip, it's a traffic nightmare.  So I would not normally go that way.  But the thing is, my best non-Strip routes were already closed to traffic.

I hurried to see if I could make it before they closed the Strip, which they were about to do any second.  Sure enough, the traffic going down Flamingo was incredibly light.  People were already avoiding it.  I turned on the Strip and couldn't believe it.  I practically had the street to myself.  Seriously, I had never seen the Strip that empty. It was a pleasure driving on it.  Tropicana was also light traffic, and I had no trouble turning into the MGM parking structure.  I probably made it to the garage with just minutes to spare before they closed Flamingo, Tropicana and the Strip!  Thank you, TC!

Parking was a little more difficult.  I wanted to go up to the 6th floor (instead of my usual floor, either 4 or 5) but signs said the 6th & 7th levels were closed.  Great night to close some of the parking levels, only their busiest night of the year.  Well I found a spot on the fifth floor, just not as close to the elevators as I would have liked. I knew I was pretty much stuck at MGM for the next 8-9 hours or so.

I figured I should get dinner out of the way before starting to play.  There was really only one decent option for me.  I didn't have enough comps to eat at the sports bar and it is way too overpriced for me to pay for a meal there.  The deli that replaced the Stage Deli is an abomination, terrible food at unreasonable prices.  Fortunately a year or two ago they put in a Subway just before you enter (or exit) the parking garage.  It would have to do.

The good thing about the Subway is that they had a bunch of wrapped, plastic straws over where you got your soda (no free refills, not at a Subway in a casino, no sir). I took a few extra because I knew that it was still MGM policy not to provide straws for drinks in the casino. Finally figured out a way to beat the system.

I was at the poker room around 7 and was seated right away.  And I got lucky. I was not only sent to a table right up against the rail separating the room from the walkway, but my seat was facing all the foot traffic.  In other words, I had a prime seat for enjoying the New Year's Eve Slut Parade which was about to commence.  And damn it, after all I'd been through with the car the past 10 days, I felt entitled to a free show. 

And there was plenty to see.  Hakkasan always attracts a huge NY's Eve crowd and they were arriving early.  Now at first, a lot of the ladies were wearing pants.  Some nerve!  Actually I couldn't blame them, it was just so cold in Vegas.  But pretty much all the females I could see walking by the poker room were at risk of getting severe chest colds.  Every conceivable way to display the female breast while still keeping the outfit legal was featured this night. There was a high percentage of really attractive women, to be sure.

Before you ask (for the umpteenth time), no, I didn't get any pics.  Sorry. I always thought it was impossible, but every now and then I have tried.  I've even tried to take some video.  But it never comes out well.  And worse, trying to record it totally ruins it for me, I end up missing the action trying to document it.  It's just not something I can do.

Anyway, the guys at my table (and at this point, it was all guys), were definitely noticing the girls.  One guy said, "Don't they wear bras in Vegas?"  I saw girls obviously wearing bras, but I did see a few who definitely needed them but had apparently forgotten to put one on before leaving the house. One guy, a serious player who was only playing at this game because he was waiting for a seat at the 2-5 game, actually moved so he would have his back to the walkway so he would be less distracted.  I suppose that made sense, but if you can't have a little harmless fun while you're in Vegas on NY's Eve, what's the point?

When a female dealer pushed in, some of our comments on the girls stopped, but everyone was still enjoying the sights.  The dealer noticed and said something like, "Yeah, all these girls walking by, with just one tiny little piece of fabric covering them."

The male dealer who replaced her was certainly enjoying the view.  The dealer's seat was the perfect spot to notice the ladies.  Almost immediately after sitting down, he said, "What's the over/under on how many naked girls we're gonna see from this spot tonite?"  One of the players asked, "Naked naked?"  The dealer said, "Well not naked naked. But partially naked.  Titties falling out.  I'm gonna put it at 2-1/2 titties."  The player asked for a clarification of what he meant.  So he pantomimed where the dress might be cut down to and said they would fall out.

By that standard, I saw no titties that night.

Much later, after we had entered 2019, there was a different male dealer at the table and by now a couple of ladies had joined our table. This guy was apparently making a double-entendre having to do with something that had happened while he was shuffling or dealing the cards.  He said, to the entire table, "When I double fist…."  but he never finished his thought.  However, the woman across from me said, "Tell us more."  But he must have realized what he was saying was totally inappropriate and didn't continue the conversation.

As for the poker, it was pretty good.  It was mostly non-regs. There was one really good player from the east coast—the guy who moved so he wouldn't see the girls walking by.  The rest were pretty average or worse.  I won a few small pots but nothing major, and was about even when the big hand happened.

There was one fairly aggro at the table who built up a good stack but eventually busted out.  The other player in this hand was a newbie.  Well, he was new to brick-and-mortar.  He said he is used to playing with just his friends.  He kept making the kind of mistakes a player without much card room experience would make, like making string bets.

On this hand I called $12 from the aggro with pocket 8's.  A number of others called—it was 5 or 6 way—including the newbie.  The flop was King-10-8 rainbow.  The preflop raiser (the aggro) bet $26.  With a number of players behind me and no flush draw out there, I decided I could slow play it and just called.  It folded to the newbie who shoved $112.  The aggro tanked for a bit, finally said, "OK, let's gamble," and called.  It was back on me.

I put the newbie on one of two hands.  He either had pocket 10's and I was screwed, or he had King-10 and I was in very good shape. There was no way he was doing that with a draw, or with just top pair.  He had at least two pair or a set.  I suppose King-8 or 10-8 were possible, but I couldn't see him calling the raise with those hands.  I figured a set of  Kings was unlikely, I think he would have three-bet pre with those.  I couldn't rule it out completely, but it a set of 10's seemed so much more likely.

Of course I wasn't folding my bottom set.  The next day, when I recorded my notes, I couldn't believe I didn't shove then.  But I just called.  I wish I could explain my thought process, but I can't.

The turn was a blank and after the aggro checked, I shoved.  But he folded.  I was now heads up against the newbie.  The river also blanked and the newbie showed, King-10, just as I thought.  He was stunned when he saw my set of 8's.  But he rebought.  Meanwhile, I now was sitting behind over $400. 

At some point in the evening, before midnight, two Indians joined our table, and then things got wild.  One them had blond hair.  I dunno, but it was a bit disconcerting to see a man from India with blond hair.  The blond Indian was an absolute maniac.  Fortunately he was sitting directly on my right.  His friend was next to him.  The non-blond was a rather timid player, most likely new, and not much of a threat.  He busted out fairly soon, borrowed some money from his buddy, re-entered the game and lost that too.  Then he mostly sat behind his blond buddy and watched.

At one point, the one still playing went up to use the restroom.  And his buddy, by now just a spectator, took his seat and intended to play his friend's stack.  For some reason the dealer was distracted and didn't notice.  I had to stop her from dealing him cards by pointing out that they had pulled the switch.  "You can't do that!" I said to the guy.  "I can't?  Oh, ok."  Once the dealer realized what had happened she slid his card to me.

The blond guy was usually betting big, big preflop raises, big bets on all the streets when he stayed in a hand (which was most of the time).  He bullied people into a lot of folds, but I swear, on those rare times when he had to show, he usually had a monster.  One time he had King-Jack and flopped a boat.  He had a high variance  game to say the least.  He was spreading chips all over the table, except to me.  I was totally card dead after the set of 8's hand.

Remember the tough player who was waiting for a seat in the 2-5 game?  Well, once that guy saw the Indian putting tons of chips in play, he decided to stay in this game.  His stack went up and down, as did the Indian's.  The tough player once shoved the turn with King-high and the Indian called—with just a draw.  Of course he hit his flush on the river and a big stack of chips changed hands.  I said to the tough player, "Easy come, easy go."  He just nodded.  He wasn't upset. He knew there was a good chance he'd get them back.  And he did.

Now before the set of 8's hand, I had won a smallish pot with a set of deuces that boated up on the turn (no call on my turn bet).  I had also flopped trip deuces with 3-2 from the big blind.  Again, no call on my turn bet.  But that was earlier.  Now I was getting nothing to play.

Meanwhile, after distributing stacks around the table and rebuying a few times, the Indian's game had settled down.  Although he was still making big bets on later streets, and even shoving into very small pots, he had mostly taken to limping instead of raising preflop.  So I limped behind him with pocket 9's and it was four way.  The flop was 9-high, my third set of the night.  I bet $10 and everyone called.  The turn was a 10 and put a second diamond on the board.  I decided to bet big so I made it $75.  It folded back to the Indian and he called without a thought.

The river was the Ace of diamonds.  So now there was a flush possible.  When he checked, I decided to play it safe and checked behind.  I hadn't seen this guy do a lot of check-raising but I didn't want to be put in a difficult spot if decided to try it now.  I showed my set and he turned over Queen-7off suit.  Which meant he had nothing, absolutely nothing.  There was no Jack or 8 on the board that he could have made a straight with.  It looked like he had a pair draw.  Why the hell he called my bet on the turn with that, I have no idea.  But I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have called anything I could have bet on the river, because he had to know his Queen high wasn't good.

Last hand I'll mention, I had pocket Jacks.  The Indian opened to $20.  By this time, he was mostly limping so it was a bit of a surprise.  I think if I had gotten Jacks when he first sat down and was raising big every time, I would have three-bet.  But now I had to assume he had a pretty good hand.  There were a few callers and the flop was Ace-10-x.  He bet big and I just folded.  There was one caller and then on the turn he bet big again and took it down.  He showed his hand though he didn't have to.  Pocket 10's. So I was ahead of him pre but he would have called my three-bet and then taken the pot with his set.

Although many games broke as midnight approached and folks left to go outside to watch the fireworks in the freezing cold, our table never stopped.  It was almost always full even as the casino was mostly empty. Our dealer wondered if it was going to get busy again after the fireworks.  She was new to the room and this was her first NY's Eve. She was hoping it wouldn't so she could take an early out and leave before her scheduled time of 3am.  But I told her it was going to get real busy by 12:30.  "They are going to be opening tables left and right, watch."  Well I was right but I guess I should have told this to the folks running the room, all of whom were fairly new to the room and apparently didn't know what to expect on NY's eve.  They actually sent a bunch of dealers home during the lull and then suddenly the dealers who stayed were all working seven straight tables without a break.

After midnight this real character got into the game.  A friendly guy from Arkansas.  They must have different rules where he normally plays.  He liked to talk about his cards.  All the time.  When he was facing a bet, he'd say, "Well I got King-Queen so…"  He kept talking about what he was holding.  Was he telling the truth?  Sometimes he was.  But one time he said what he had, then actually flashed his cards.  The other player didn't see it but the dealer did and said his cards were not what he said they were.

Well all of that is strictly forbidden at MGM.  You can't talk about your cards, and you surely can't reveal them as long as there is still action pending.  The dealer warned him about this time and time again.  He didn't care. He was there to have a good time and for him that mean chatting about his cards.

He would say, "But it's heads up. I've got Ace-3."  He was told he couldn't say that even if it was heads up.  "Well, I don't believe that. I'm talking about my cards."  The floor was called and warned him sternly.  He didn't say anything and then when the floor left he went right back to saying what his cards were.

The more he was warned, the more pissed off he got. He started swearing.  "I don't care what the f*** they say, I'm talking about my cards."

The other players didn't mind of course.  In addition to all this information he was giving us, he also was dropping numerous buy-ins and reloading.  I'm pretty sure he had quite a few alcoholic beverages before joining us to celebrate the new year.

But eventually they did kick him out.  He didn't go quietly, shouting, "They're mother-f***ers."  One of the women at the table said, "Hey, you can call me a mother-f***er if you're giving me your money."

I grew tired of being so card dead and more importantly, I was just plain tired.  So I cashed out up $225. 

It was still too early for the roads to have reopened, so I wandered around, enjoying the view.  There were provocatively dressed young ladies everywhere, most of them quite attractive. I saw one young lady sitting down in her very short dress, and for a brief second I thought I noticed that she wasn't wearing any underwear.  Being a gentleman, I looked away immediately so as not to see something that should be only be seen by her future husband (or, her gynecologist).  So I really can't be sure if perhaps she was just wearing flesh-colored undies.

I guess it was around 3am when I saw that all the roads had been reopened and I could get back to the Gold Coast easily.  And fortunately, the car was still behaving fine and I made it back there without incident.

And that's it for this chapter. I'm not sure, but I think I will be able to wrap up this saga in one or two more chapters.  But since I haven't listened to my recordings yet, and it has been awhile at this point, don't hold me to it.  We'll just have to see.  Back soon.  (Edited to add:  Yes!  Our long national nightmare is over.  I was able to wrap it up with one last chapter, and you can find that chapter here.)

David Wang's Bachelor Party Tournament

Who is David Wang, you might be asking after seeing the title of this blog post?  You mean you never heard of David Wang?  Well, neither have I.  I have no idea who he is.  But on Saturday I was there for his bachelor party poker tournament.

You see I played in a tournament at Venetian that day.  And when I got to my seat, I noticed on the wall, right next to the tournament clock for our game, was another tournament clock that said, "David Wang's Bachelor Party Tournament."

Now I've seen private poker tournaments for special events in Vegas poker rooms before.  But this is the first time I saw the room put the "name" of the tournament right on the tournament clock display that was visible for anyone in the vicinity to see.  I thought it was pretty cool that the Venetian could and did do that.  I hope one of his friends took a picture of that tournament clock as a keepsake.

The tournament that I played in was a very good one (though—spoiler alert—not a profitable one for me personally). And you can be sure I'll discuss it in detail when I get a chance to write the post about it.  For now, this will be just be a quick story about the David Wang Bachelor Party tournament.

Now, unlike my usual practice, I have not changed the name.  It actually said "David Wang" and I assume that's his real name. Since I never met David, and have nothing bad (or, for that matter, good) to say about him, I figure I can use his real name. 

David's tournament was a $100 buy-in with 20-minute levels (it said so right on the clock) and started at 1PM, an hour after my tournament started. It was a one-table affair, and took place right behind the table I was at.  I was disappointed to see that the group didn't have any special t-shirts or uniforms for the event.  There were a bunch of young guys (late 20's or early 30's I suppose) dressed like pretty much every other guy that age you see in Vegas. 

I've seen my share of special apparel made up for occasions like these in Vegas.  Often I see a group of girls going to a nightclub and you can tell it is a bride-to-be and her bridesmaids.  The bride will wear a veil, and a white, slutty version of a wedding dress.  Frequently she'll wear a sash that says "Bride" or "Bride to be."  And the other girls will have sashes that say "Friend of the Bride" or "Bridesmaid."  If you see these girls earlier in the day, you sometimes will see them wearing t-shirts that say "Team Bride" on them, possibly with the name of the lucky girl, and even with the date of the actual wedding printed on them.

I've seen groups of guys with custom made t-shirts too. The most memorable one I ever saw was actually in the T.I. poker room a long time ago (when the room was in the old location).  It had the name of the groom and the date of the bachelor party weekend on the front.  So let's say the guy's name was, I dunno, Holden Caulfield.  On the front it said, "Holden Caulfield's Bachelor Party, Las Vegas, June 17-19, 2009."  And then on the back, and I'll never forget this, it said, in a script font, "One vagina for the rest of your life.  Way to think things through, Holden."

But as I said, these guys were dressed normally.  To look at them, you'd never know they were in town for a bachelor party.  Also, I have to say, they weren't in the least bit rowdy.  They well quite well-behaved, in fact.  I have to believe that this poker tournament was the least salacious activity they had planned for the weekend.  At least, I certainly hope so.

At my table, started talking about the bachelor party tournament.  The only female at our table was the dealer.  So when the waitress came around to our table, one of the players there said, "I'll bet the table behind us wants drinks." That reminded me of the other thing that bachelor parties are famous for. I couldn't help myself, I asked the dealer if a stripper was going to show up later to the bachelor party tournament.  She laughed and said, "No, we don't allow strippers in the poker room."  Then she thought about it and said, "Well…."

I finished her thought, "You don't allow strippers working in the poker room.  I'm sure you have strippers in here from time to time."

As I was writing this post, I thought of a line I wish I thought of at the time.  I should have said, "I wonder who the lucky bride is?  I sure hope David Wang isn't getting married to Aces."

"You Did That to Me?.....But I Bought You Dinner!"

This is part 2 of my recent session with Prudence.  if you missed part 1, it is here.

Later in the evening—we were joined by two more folks who were familiar with my blog—well one for sure.  I think this was after Warren left.  You see, visiting from England this weekend were Paul and Dom.  Paul has posted numerous comments on my blog and many others you probably read under the name “Arniejokin” and you can follow him on Twitter here.  Dom is Paul’s buddy—not really sure if he reads my blog but since I had met the two of them the night before I’m sure Paul filled Dom in on it if that was necessary.  The previous night I had hoped to play with them at The Linq, but when I get a chance to write the post about that evening’s antics, you will learn why that never happened and instead we were at separate tables that night. 

Before I had arrived at the MGM, I had seen a tweet from Paul that the two of them were playing at my “home base” that afternoon.  In fact, when I got to MGM and was waiting for Prudence and Aaron to arrive, I found them at a table.  They were nearly done with their session and weren’t sure what they were going to do after their dinner break.  I suggested they return to MGM because not only was a Slut Parade night, but there was UFC fight there and that always makes for wild, juicy poker games after the fight.  I apparently convinced them, because hours later, I got a tweet from Paul asking if I could put them on the list as call-ins.  I did, and not long after that they showed up and got into a game at a different table.

When I saw Paul earlier, I told him that I was waiting for some friends to have dinner with before playing poker.  But I never identified my friends in any way.

But by the time they were sitting in a different game, clear on the other side of the room, Prudence had had quite a few drinks.  And she was not only inappropriate, as I’ve indicated, she was also quite loud.  So loud that her buddy Stan, at the podium, actually texted her to tone it down a little (or maybe a lot, actually). In addition to what I’ve described, she also managed to utter the f-bomb numerous times.  And she made a reference to “swallowing” which I’m pretty sure wasn’t about the alcohol in front of her (but I am unclear on the context).   Apparently she could sometimes be heard on the other side of the room, where Paul and Dom were playing.  And soon after they arrived, I received a tweet from Paul that said, “is that someone from an earlier blog at your table?  Prudence?”

Ha ha.  He “recognized” Prudence from across the room! So even tho they were at another table where they said they had perfect seats for the Slut Parade, they asked to be moved to our table for the jocularity.

When Paul first got to the table, the very first hand he played (and thus the very first hand I’d ever played with him), he raised.  I think it was $8.  I think I might have been the big blind.  So when it came to me, I said, “Oh, typical aggro Euro, I see.”  I don’t think he realized I was kidding.  He said, “What?  Well, it was a friendly raise.”  I just laughed.

At one point, Aaron got a phone call.  He stepped away to take it, but returned to play his next hand, still on the phone.  And it turned out he wanted to play that next hand, so he said something like, “hang on, I’m in a hand.”  At which point, Prudence, who had folded, grabbed the phone out of his hand and started talking to the person on the other end.  Prudence had absolutely no idea who she was talking to, but that didn’t stop her from carrying on a conversation with him or her.

I either couldn’t hear or can’t remember most of what I overheard her telling this person on the phone—except for one thing.  We all did hear her say, “Yes, his cock is adequate.”  She said this at least three or four times, while Aaron was playing the hand.  Now by this time, the dealer was a woman I had never seen before—but actually, you’ve already met her—she was the dealer I called “Janet” in the post here.  She was brand new to Prudence and had no idea what to make of her, but she was rather nonchalant in reacting to her antics—with an occasional smile or giggle. 

When Aaron was through with the hand, Prudence returned the phone to him and announced to the entire table, “I have no idea who that was.  It might have been his mother.”

That got everyone laughing and Janet said, “Oh….that would be awkward.”  Later, Prudence added, “If it was his mother, I should have thanked her for squeezing him out her vagina.”

Later she put her index and middle fingers up to her lips, spread them to form a “V” and asked the British boys if they knew what that was.  They claimed ignorance.  “Wow, I guess you guys never get laid.”  She explained that it was the symbol for “vagina.”

There was another woman at the table, who didn’t really react one way or the other to Prudence’s antics.  But this gal did figure into a couple of hands that cost me chips.  Yes, yes, there was actually some poker played this night.

Early on I called $6 from the button with Ace-9 off.  Six of us saw a flop of Ace-Queen-x. I called $15 and it was three-way. There was no betting on a blank turn.  I called $40 on a Queen river.  The guy had absolutely nothing and was up nearly $100.  Sadly, he lost the rest of his chips soon after and then left.

From the cutoff, I called $11 with Jack-8 of diamonds, it was 5-way.  The flop was Jack-10-x and no one bet.  With a 9 on the turn, the aforementioned lady went all in for $46.  It folded to me and I thought it was worth calling, since that would close the action, the pot was pretty big and I now had an open-ender.  But I bricked and it didn’t matter, she had King-Queen and had a bigger straight than I was drawing to on the turn. 

A bit later I had pocket Aces, both were black.  I raised to $10 and it was 5-way.  There was a King and two mediumish cards on the flop, also two spades.  I bet $40 and the lady called.  The turn was a red 5 and we both checked.  We checked a red 4 on the river.  I showed my Aces and she showed….5-4 of spades for runner-runner two pair!  WTF?  She called my preflop raise with 5-4 (but it was sooooooted) and then my big flop bet with a baby flush draw.  And then went runner-runner on the two pair.  I guess I should have bet the turn but I doubt that she would have folded, based on how she played that.  Ugh.

I called a $10 raise from Prudence with Ace-4 of diamonds.  Three or four of us saw the flop, which had a 4 on it and one diamond.  She bet $30 and I made a loose call, thinking she might be c-betting and I did actually have a pair, plus the back door flush draw.  The turn was another diamond and there was no betting.  She checked the river, which completed my nut flush.  I bet something, she folded and I showed my hand to get a drawing ticket. 

A few hands later I had Ace-4 offsuit in the small blind and I called.  But I hadn’t noticed that it was a straddle, which at MGM is $5.  Rather than make an issue of it, I just took back my two bucks and put out a red chip.  Good decision.  The flop had both an Ace and a 4 on it. I checked, going for the check-raise, but it checked behind me.  I turned a boat with another 4, and bet 15.  There was one call but no call on my river bet.

With pocket Jacks, I raised to $8.  It was three of us seeing the flop, including Aaron.  Terrible flop, Queen-Queen-X.  I c-bet $15 and Aaron called.  The board got even worse—an Ace on the turn.  I checked and Aaron bet $40.  I tanked and then folded.  So as the dealer pushed him the pot, Aaron showed his hand.  A Queen?  Nope.  An Ace?  No. He showed King-10 offsuit.  Seriously?  A total bluff?  OK, he had a gutshot, so not a total bluff (but what he didn’t know is, if he had hit his gutshot with a Jack, I would have had a boat).  Ugh.

I did the only thing I could do under the circumstances.  Remind him that I had paid for his meal.  “What?  You did that to me…..and I bought you dinner!”

But actually, it was Prudence who was more upset than I was.  “How could you do that to Rob?  You’re gonna pay for that!  He can’t give you a worse name than Jace got (see here)—nobody will ever be named that again.  But watch out!”

Heh heh…until they left, I kept teasing him about the terrible name I would come up with for him.  Actually, “Osama” was going through my mind.  In fact, when they left, he said something to me about, “Please don’t give me an awful name.”  Well ok, I did take pity on him, because he seems like a really nice guy (except as a poker player) and well…..I did get back at him a bit, as you’ll see.

Now long time readers might notice a pattern….my friends can always bluff me off hands.  I mean, before Aaron it happened here and here.  Well, more proof that I should never play poker with people who read my blog.  But I’m sure that the only times I’ve ever been bluffed successfully, it’s been by friends of mine.  I’m sure no one I don’t know well has ever been able to bluff me.  Yeah, I’m sure of that.

A bit after this hand, I was finally able to move my seat, from the middle of the table to immediately on Aaron’s left.  “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” Prudence raised to $6, Aaron called and I called with King-10 of hearts.  It was four-way.  The flop had two hearts on it, but also two 4’s.  I called $30 from Prudence, as did Aaron. There was no betting on a blank turn. The river was the 3 of hearts.  Prudence checked, as did Aaron, and I bet the rest of my chips….but I was down below $100 by the start of this hand and had only like $30 or so left on the river.  Prudence called and Aaron folded.  Prudence had 6-9 of hearts (affectionately known as “Big Lick”).  No surprise she plays that.  Aaron said he threw away Ace-4 offsuit, and was really pissed to lose to two flushes. He said he was hoping for the Ace of hearts so he could all our money!  Sweet.  I thought I wanted the Ace of hearts to give me the nut flush, but now I knew better.  That gave me enough chips to play with without re-buying.

It turns out Aaron has a real job and had to get up early, so they had to call it a night before I did.

A rather odd woman took over one of their seats.  I moved over to seat 1 and this lady originally sat on my immediate left.  There was a guy sitting between Paul and Dom on the other side that had a short stack and kept raising fairly large in an apparent attempt to give away the rest of his stack as soon as possible.  When he wasn’t raising someone else was, I think either Paul or Dom.  I heard the lady on my left muttering to herself about the frequency and the size of the raises.  She mostly folded to the raises, so I kind of assumed she was a nit.

When the guy between Paul and Dom finally busted, she moved to that seat, between Paul and Dom.  She was one of the blinds when I had Ace-Queen off and raised to $8. There was a call and then the action was on this woman.  First she asked, “Who raised?”  The dealer pointed to me.  And then, knowing it was my raise, she suddenly decided there was one bit of information she desperately needed before deciding what to do.  “What’s his name?” she shouted from across the table.  Well, that was a new one on me!  What the hell difference does my name make?  How is that relevant to her decision? Now…..it might just be that she asked that because the dealer, who knows me of course, might have said, “Rob raised” in addition to pointing to me when she asked who raised.  And she apparently didn’t understand “Rob.”  But how that would affect her decision is beyond me.  Of course, if she was really that interested in my name, she could have asked me while she was sitting next to me.

Anyway, the dealer said my name a few times and she kept mishearing it, “Ralph? Your name is Ralph? What’s your name?”  I was laughing at this. “No, Rob….my name is Rob.”  And so finally she called.  I wonder if she would have folded if my name was Jack?

The flop was very low, and I put out a $15 c-bet.  The other player folded but the lady called.  The turn was an Ace, she checked, I bet $30 and she called again. The river paired the board, a second deuce.  This time, she led out for $30.  Damn.  Had she gotten lucky with the deuce? Trips?  A boat?  I tanked for a bit.  Then I realized that there was no way I could fold top pair there for so little.  Did I want to raise?  I kind of assumed that she would only call if she could beat top pair, so I figured I would play it safe and just call.  As I reached for chips, she said, “Don’t do it….don’t do it.”  Hmm…I try not to be distracted by talk like that.  Are they telling me what they want me to do or what they don’t want me to do?  Undeterred, I called.

She said, “I have nothing and flipped over two low cards, I think a 5 and a 3 (suited, I guess).  So I suppose on the turn she picked up a gutshot, otherwise, she didn’t really have anything. She bet way too little for her bluff to work…besides, I only get bluffed by my friends and I didn’t know this lady from Eve. Her play was beyond strange but I was happy to take her chips.

It was getting close to midnight, I had a few drawing tickets.  But I was not called.  I picked up soon after, booking a very small profit (slightly under $100).  But I had a shitload of entertainment for the evening.  I said goodbye to the boys from the U.K. and only wished I’d been sitting closer to them so we could have chatted.  Seemed like really good guys, despite the language barrier. 

I have reason to believe that I will be playing more live poker with Prudence and Aaron on future trips.