Caught With My Zipper Down! (Part 1)

This entry will help explain why, when I started this blog, I decided to use pseudonyms for the people I tell stories about.  But as the events in this post unfolded, I realized that giving people pseudonyms isn’t quite good enough.

I also discovered that referring to most poker rooms by their real names, instead of giving them a phony name as I did “BSC” isn’t such a good idea, either.

I have no choice to tell you that this story centers around Binion’s.  I will, of course, use only pseudonyms for this tale, though I’m not sure what good that will do.

As I have documented, I like playing the 2PM tournament on the weekends at Binion’s.  I even wrote about this tournament in my Ante Up column (see here) .  I play there enough so that the dealers all recognize me as a semi-regular there and frequently say hello to me.  But not by name.  I don’t use a players card there (wouldn’t need it for a tournament anyway) so there are only two folks there who actually know my name.  One is the tournament director, whose name I’ll just leave out rather than giving him a pseudonym.  He knows my name from working with me in keeping me updated on changes in the room for AVP, and now from having written about Binion’s for Ante Up.  The other person who knows me by name is Heather, my dealer buddy who works at Binion’s and at BSC—and who I’ve seen dealing in at least one more room and who I’ve played with in several rooms.  Heather has made numerous appearances on the blog, most notably as the subject character of the post here.

Which brings me to Audrey.  Audrey is a terrific dealer with a great personality.  I guess if I had one word to use to describe her, it would be “sassy.”  She is very funny.  And she’s probably, ahem, a year or two older than most of the lady dealers at Binion’s that I described in this post here.  Let’s just say she’s got seniority on those ladies.  I always enjoy playing at her table during Audrey’s down.  Not only can I be sure that no mistakes will be made, but I can count on her entertaining us with her sharp wit.  

But I I never really have had a one-on-one conversation with her.  Just table talk when she was talking to everyone at the table.  Thus late last year, during the break, when I walked past her table, I was kind of surprised when she said, “Hi, Rob, how ya been?”

I said “fine” and we exchanged pleasantries.  But I couldn’t help wondering how she knew my name.  I had to assume that she must have gotten curious seeing me talk to Heather, or the tournament director, and asked one of them.  That was the only explanation I could think of. 

Flash forward to late January.  I decided to play in the Survivor Tournament at Venetian again.  Another tournament I wrote about for Ante Up (in the same column as the Binion’s tournament). And I blogged about my first try at that tournament here.  As I was settling into my assigned seat at the tournament this Friday night, I was surprised to see Audrey, the dealer from Binion’s, with a tournament receipt in her hand, obviously ready to play in the very same tournament.

From across the table, she saw me and as I was saying “Hi, Audrey,” she was saying “Hi Rob.”  And I was reminded that she mysteriously knew my name.  As luck would have it, her assigned seat was the one directly to my right!

As she took her seat, I said something like, “I’m surprised, and impressed, that you know my name.” 

She replied, “Oh, I know a lot of things about you.  But there are ladies present so we better not talk about that.”

I laughed and assumed it was just a joke.  It was totally in keeping with her sense of humor and I didn’t think it meant anything.  We made some small talk, and it was just a couple of minutes before the tournament was about to start.

Then she said to me, “Imagine that.  They put two people who hate pocket kings right next to each other.”

I froze.  How the heck did she know I hate pocket kings?  I tried to hit the play button on my mental DVR.  Had I ever mentioned in front of her that I have thing about pocket kings?  I was 99.9% sure I had not.  I’m pretty sure I’ve never discussed my frustration with that dreaded hand in a poker room, Binion’s or otherwise.  Except maybe with a BSC dealer or two who I knew read my blog, and then, only in quiet tones.  But never in Binion’s.

And furthermore, I had never told anyone at Bininon's about my blog. Not once.  I was sure of it.  I almost never tell people (in person) about the blog, even after having business cards printed with its URL on them. I just get too self-conscious. 

When I unfroze, I said something like, “pocket kings?”  And then Audrey said, “Yeah.  The dreaded pocket kings.” 

OK, now that could not have been a coincidence, could it?  I said, “Dreaded pocket kings?  How did you know to use that term?”  I guess I was hoping she’d just “confess” to reading my blog, so I wouldn’t have to embarrass myself by asking.

Instead, she replied, “It’s just an expression.  You know, the ‘dreaded pocket kings’, ‘The dreaded ex-husband.’  I tell you, if I never played pocket kings, I’d have furniture in my house.”

(As an aside, I’m starting to have regrets that, a long time ago, I didn’t think to trademark the phrase, “the dreaded pocket kings.”)

This was pretty unmistakable.  “The dreaded pocket kings”?  Even though I haven’t trademarked the phrase, I’m pretty sure if anyone says that to me, they’ve seen my blog.

I wasn’t sure what to do.  Surely Audrey was indicating that she not only reads my blog, but knows that I am indeed the publisher of said blog.  But I wondered why she was being so coy, so subtle.  Why didn’t she just come right out and say, “I really like your blog, Rob”? Or, less preferred, “I really hate your blog, Rob.”  Was this just her sense of humor at play?  Was she just having some fun with me?  Or was I missing something?

I was playing back every moment I ever had at Binion’s in my mind to see if I was somehow missing something. Also, if she really was a reader of mine, I kind of wanted to know if there were any posts I’d had about Binion’s that I was now suddenly embarrassed by.  I thought there might be.

While I was processing this, she asked, “So, how long are in town for this time?”  Ok, that pretty much sealed it.  I suppose she could have learned from Heather that I don’t live in Vegas, but it almost seemed like she was flaunting it, how much she knew about me.

I guess my initial hesitancy there was, if I asked her about it, and somehow, someway, she didn’t know what I was talking about, it would be embarrassing to me. Also, I was sure I’d never mentioned Audrey on the blog…..maybe that annoyed her?

Then the tournament started, and I still hadn’t figured out what to do. I didn’t feel that it was proper though to bring up my blog while we were playing.  I didn’t want to distract her, or myself (though I have to admit I was a bit distracted by it anyway). 

And then, sometime later in the tournament, Audrey, running low on chips, raised, was re-reaised and announced “all in.”  She was called.  Before showing her cards to everyone else, she let me have a quick peak.  Of course, she had two Kings.  She won the hand, and when she did, expressed her surprise to me, as if I, of all people, would understand how unlikely that was.  When she had another big confrontation later, she said to me, “I’ve already pulled off the miracle of having Kings hold up, so…”  I don’t remember the rest of her sentence.  But she was clearly having fun with my well-known—to her, anyway—issues with Kings.

I have to admit, this is still pretty new to me, having “followers” and “readers” and people who (apparently) actually like what I do here.  It’s great for my ego.  Of course, I know from Google stats—and the comments—that there are people out there reading the silly stuff I write.  But it’s always a thrill to meet a reader face-to-face, I mean a reader I didn’t know I had.  Especially one like Audrey who I had known for some time without knowing she was reading my stuff.  Basically, I’d like to sit down with them and interrogate them for 4 hours (don’t worry, I’d never actually do that).

Anyway, after the tournament went on for awhile, I convinced myself I had to ask her about it, and I was ready to do it, I just wanted to wait for the break.  Hopefully we’d both last that long.  But as luck would have it, right before the first break, they needed to move me to another table, and I never saw her during the break.  I didn’t last much longer after the break, so I went over to her, told her that I busted out to one of the Binion’s regulars she’d also been talking to who was playing there, and said that I’d probably see her on Sunday.

And so, on Sunday, I went to Binion’s, as I had planned to do anyway.  I had to wait for a couple of breaks before I could ask Audrey some questions.  But I was able to catch her when she was sitting at an almost empty table (one of the regs was sitting there, reading a book). 

I said hello, asked how she did Friday night (better than me, but not good enough to cash) and then said, “So, how long have you been reading my blog?”

She didn’t flinch.  “Oh, about a year.  I guess close to a year.”  I was thinking about my next question but she continued.  I believe she was referring to the first blog post of mine she read, but she might have brought it up for a different reason. “I remember reading about a poker room where the dealers were encouraged to wear western clothes and I thought, ‘I know where that is.’  You talked about a girl having a problem with a zipper, and I knew who you were talking about.”

Uh oh.  I asked, “Oh, were you there when she had the zipper problem?”  You see, the dealer in my blog post “blamed” another female dealer for not telling her that her zipper was open.  I thought maybe the dealer she asked might have been Audrey, or, if not, at least she must have been in the room and heard it, as I did.

Audrey replied, “No, I wasn’t there, but the way you described her….she was out to there, so I knew who that probably was.  I think it was May of last year,,,,.yeah, I’m sure it was May.”  When she said “she was out to there” she made a motion with her hands, in front of her chest, to indicate….well…..large breasts.

Gulp.  I remembered the post she was talking about.  In fact, I had reason to revisit it fairly recently.  Despite that, I couldn’t remember exactly how I had written it, I couldn’t remember just how far I went on a certain subject.  I won’t link to that previous post of mine just yet.  I'd actually prefer that you don't read just yet.  I want it to be a surprise to you, as it was to me.  Of course, I know the more curious of my readers will be able to find it on their own--so be it  You'll be getting a jump on the next chapter of this tale.   I knew the basics of the post, and of course I knew the dealer I was writing about, one of Audrey’s fellow dealers at Binion’s— who was dealing at Binions this very day, and who I will refer to as “Denise.” I completely remembered the part of the story that was “woman said” part.  And Audrey had just reminded me that I had mentioned that the dealer was well endowed. 

I was laughing and a little nervous.  Then Audrey said something that kind of scared me.  “So when I read that, I immediately texted her about it.”

Shit.

She continued, “I said, ‘hey, did you have a problem with a zipper on (whatever day it was)?”

The text came back, “Yes, but how could you possibly know that?”

Audrey told her, “Oh, it’s on the internet”

“My zipper being unzipped is on the internet?  Get out!”

Audrey insisted it was true.  And then to prove it, she sent Denise the link to my blog.  And Denise did indeed confirm to Audrey that the dealer with the zipper problem was her.

That kinda floored me….even without re-reading that blog post, I knew that wasn’t good.  I knew I’d probably said something that would embarrass Denise, or myself, or most likely, both of us.

But I didn’t want to pursue it until I had had a chance to re-read my post.  So I changed the subject.  I asked how she discovered my blog.  “Oh, from Poker Grump’s blog.”  It seems a few years back, Grump mentioned Audrey, by her real name, in one of his posts.  A friend of Audrey’s told her she was mentioned on a blog.  “What’s a blog?” she asked.

But the friend sent her the link and she read Grump’s post about her.  (Note: I am not going to link to Grump’s post about her, but in reality, he just mentioned her in passing, the post wasn’t about her at all.)  I guess she kept up with Grump’s blog, and eventually, that led her here.

I’m going to have a more to say about the lady dealer with the zipper problem soon.  But for now, let me just say that the mention of her in connection with my blog made me think of the “Poker Genius,”  and because the best stories about him took place at Binion’s, I had to ask her about him.

“You know who Poker Genius is, don’t you?”  She didn’t respond instantly so I gave her his real name.  “Oh him, yeah.  I call him ‘stiffy’”  (She might have said “stiffer”, I’m not sure).  It has to do with him stiffing the people who stake him, and that’s all.

Then she said, “What I really want to know is who Prudence is,”

Sigh.  In addition to the phrase, “the dreaded pocket kings,” I should have trademarked the name “Prudence,” too.

I laughed.  Audrey really did know my blog!  I said, “Well, I don’t think you know her—“

“Don’t be so sure, I know a lot of players.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure she’s never played here.”

The break was almost over and I had to get back to my seat.  By the way, this was a tournament, that, despite this distraction, I actually ended up cashing in.  But that will be a whole separate blog post. 

I survived to the next break, and was happy to see that I one again had a chance to ask Audrey a question about my blog, or in this case, me.  I just couldn’t help myself.

I went over to again.  “Sorry, but I have one more question.”  She said sure, go ahead.

“How did you know it was me?  I mean, how did you know I was the guy doing the blog?”

She said there were pictures of me on the blogs and she recognized me.  A month or so after the zipper post, she saw a picture of me and put two and two together.

Hmm, I’m not sure if I’ve posted pictures of myself here.  The original idea was that I would protect my own identity, in addition to everyone else I told stories about.  But just a month or so after that “zipper” post, Lightning, Josie, Tony, Pete Peters, et al, all hit town.  Pictures of me were taken.  I know my mug appeared on Lightning & Josie’s blog, and possibly others. Grump referenced all of us, as did I, etc. Obviously, Audrey saw one of those pics and said, “Oh, I know him!”

Ok, I had interrogated Audrey enough for one day.  I got back to my room late, and instead of thinking of the tournament I’d just played in for 8-1/2 hours for a min cash, all I was thinking of was, what the hell did I write in that blog post I now knew Denise had read?

OK, that's all for part 1.  Part 2 is here.

I Think I Played My Hand Face Up

What’s worse than a bad beat?  How about not winning enough as much money as you think you should have when you have a big hand?  You know what I mean.  The guy with a really good second best hand just doesn’t pay you off like you feel he should have when you have the nuts.

Ok, maybe that’s not as bad as a bad beat, but it can be frustrating.  I admit, it can also be frustrating hearing someone complain about it.  I recall a night at BSC when Prudence and I were playing with a friend of hers.  I don’t remember the details, but I think he had a full house, he assumed the other player had a lesser full house, and didn’t call his river bet.  He spent the rest of the night pissing and moaning about it.  I would be a rich man if I had a dollar for every time I heard him say a variation of “How could he not call there?” from him that night.

So I hope you’ll bear with me for this little gripe session.  At least by the next day I think I figured out why the guy didn’t pay me off more.

This was from a particularly fun session last month at BSC.  There was a guy at the table who was the table clown.  I don’t mean that in a bad way.  He was the table clown like a kid in school was the class clown.  Just a friendly, funny guy.  Early in my session I won a pot where I had to show my pair of Queens.  Thereafter, every time I won a pot where I didn’t have to show my hand, he teased me about having Queens again.  One pair of Queens and I was marked for life. 

He was teasing everyone gently and it was all in good fun.  What he didn’t know was that one of the times he accused me of having Queens—I raised preflop, bet the flop and did not get a call on the turn—I actually had pocket Kings.  Yeah, you know it’s a good session for me when I actually win with those things.

I was in seat 1 and in seat 9 (the table is 9 handed) was a guy from Australia.  This was before the story I told here so I hadn’t yet declared war on the entire country yet.  So on this hand, I woke up with pocket Aces on the button.  There were lots of limpers so I made a pretty big raise.  It folded to the Aussie who announced all-in.  He had about $100, give or take.  Of course I snap-called.

We both showed and he had pocket 10’s.  Of course, with his stack, he might have done that anyway, but there was talk around the table as to how they were a bit surprised by my hand.  Since I had position, a lot of folks—probably the Aussie too—felt I just might be trying to steal the pot there.  The board was all blanks and I won a nice pot. 

I chipped up and down a bit for awhile and then was dealt pocket Queens again.  Damn, the table clown was right about me!  There were again a bunch of limpers, so I made a big raise and only one limper called.  The flop was Queen-8-2.  Yahtzee!  But there were two hearts. 

To my surprise, the other guy led out with a $15 bet.  Hmm….what could he have?  I had the nuts at that point.  Was he betting a draw?  Did I have him set over set?

I wasn’t about to smooth call with those two hearts on the board, so I made it $45.  He called.  The turn was a 10 of diamonds and once again, the guy bet out.  Hmm……I was perplexed.  He was a young guy, and seemed like a solid player.  Not especially loose or aggro.  I realized there was a straight possible, but that means he would have called my preflop raise with Jack-9, and I thought that was unlikely.  Was he really pressing his set or two pair….or his heart draw?

I shoved.  If he had the heart draw, I wanted to make it costly for him to run it down.  I also considered that if the 10 didn’t make him a straight, it might have given him a draw to it (AK, KJ?) .  I had him covered by about $100.  Here’s the good news, my move proved I wasn’t playing too conservatively—trying to book my win.  I was up over $100 and if I lost that hand now, I would be suddenly be in negative territory for the night.

Now the bad news.  He snap called and showed his hand. I was wrong, he did indeed call my preflop raise with Jack-9.  He showed Jack-9 of hearts.  So he flopped the flush draw and the gutshot.  And hit his gutshot on the turn.  Gulp.

For my last three Vegas visits, I’d been running into an unusually high number of flushes and straights when I flopped sets.  And never once in those three visits had I gotten the help I needed to win the pot.

Until this time.  The dealer put down a beautiful 8 of something on the river, giving me a boat.  I won a huge pot and the guy had a sick expression on his face as he reached for his wallet to rebuy.  I survived my bad read.

Now I was up over $300 and realized I had to start monitoring myself to make sure I wasn’t going to play too scared to win any more money (see post here).  I didn’t notice any problems so I continued to play.  I didn’t really want to leave, as I said, it was a fun table.  We were talking about prostitution and Harry Potter books, not a combination that you normally think of together.

Some guy made a joke as he was raking in a pot, “I’m ready for a prostitute now,” and another player said he’d need at least $500.  Then a third guy said, “$500 only gets you in the room with her.  You need more money if you actually plan on getting laid.”

I asked how he knew that.  “First hand experience, huh?”  He just laughed and said “I know a little bit about a lot of things.”  Someone mentioned that they had legal prostitution in Windsor, Ontario, just on the other side of the border from Detroit, something I did not know (and I have no plans to visit there, in case you’re wondering).

And someone said he was just now getting into reading the Harry Potter books, which prompted a lengthy discussion of the books.  Now, I’ve heard the Harry Potter movies discussed at a poker table, usually around the time one of them comes out.  But this was a discussion of the novels, and there was some serious discussion about the books taking place among thee or four players.  My buddy Jack was the dealer, and he said, “You realized this a poker table in a Las Vegas casino, and you’re discussing Harry Potter?”  I wondered if this was a first.  Then Jack actually joined the discussion and starting making jokes about one of the characters being questioned for terrorism.

I didn’t really follow the discussion, but they were having such a good time with it I was actually enjoying listening to it.  Then Jack dealt me the hand which is actually the subject of this post.

In the big blind I was dealt—can you guess?  Yeah, the dreaded pocket kings.  And proof that I wasn’t playing too scared with my $300 profit was that I didn’t immediately muck them.  Three people limped, so I raised to $14.  Only one person called.  It was the Aussie that I had stacked with my Aces vs his 10’s.  Yeah, he was still there.

The flop was King-8-2, rainbow.  Double Yahtzee!  Wow, Earlier I had flopped a set of Queens, now I had flopped a set of Kings.  A good night indeed. I've mentioned all the times that my sets have run into straights and flushes. I have vowed never to slow play a set again.

But this time….this time…..I did it.  I slow played it.  I saw that there were no draws out there.  It would be hard to find a drier board.  My set looked incredibly safe.  I wasn’t playing scared, I was playing greedy.  I wanted to make as much money as I could from my dreaded hand, just once.  So I checked.  The Aussie checked behind me.

The turn was a 9 of hearts, the second heart on the board.  Since I gave him a free card, I couldn’t dismiss the possibility that he now had a flush draw, but I wasn’t overly concerned about it.  I knew at this point I needed to try to put some money in the pot to try to win something.  I bet $20 and really expected him to fold.  But no, he called.

The river was another 8, and thus I had a full house.  No worries about the flush.  The only hand that could beat me was pocket 8’s, and if he had that, well that’s poker, take my money sir.

I assumed he wouldn’t call a big bet, or any bet at all.  I only put out $25, hoping that would be small enough to call if he had a little something.  I was sure a big bet would not get called.

He snap called and showed his hand.  He had pocket deuces!  He had flopped a set and filled up on the river, just as I had. 

Wow.  He lost as little money as he possible could have on that hand.  Which meant I won as little money as I could have on that hand.

Everyone was amazed, and couldn’t believe he never bet or raised with his set.  He explained that he actually put me on pocket Kings and thus felt he was behind the whole way.  That’s why he didn’t raise.

I was not all that happy with the win, I had won way too little.  I mean, if the flop missed him, fine, I win a small pot.  But he flops a set?  A lower set than mine?  I should be stacking all—or at least most—of his chips.

Jack couldn’t believe it.  He whispered to me, “How did he not raise you?”  I agreed, I should have had a huge payday there.  “He played it like a small pair,” he added.

It was still a nice session, and I cashed out soon after Jack’s down was finished.  I wasn’t exactly on tilt, but I did notice I was spending too much time thinking about how much money I didn’t win there to be paying enough attention to the poker.  So it was time to book the win and leave.

On my way out, I saw Jack dealing at another table and I leaned in and whispered to him, “How did I not stack that guy?”  He shook his head, “I don’t know.”

But sleeping on it, I think I figured it out.  First, I think maybe the hand hours earlier where I stacked him with my Aces vs his 10’s may have played into it somewhat.  His instinct there was I was trying to steal, then it turned out I really had the goods.

However, the key thing I did wrong, the big mistake I made, was checking the flop.  Normally I don’t check there because I don’t want to give a free card.  That’s the main reason I don’t slow play sets. 

But this time, my check was basically showing him my hand.  You see, when I raise preflop, I almost always make a continuation bet on the flop, especially if there’s only 2 or 3 of us seeing a flop.  The guy had been playing attention.  He saw that. 

If I had raised with AK there, I flop top pair, top kicker and of course I’m gonna bet out.  No one would slow play that hand.  If I raise with AQ, and the flop missed me, I’m gonna bet there too, based on what I’d done all night.  The Aussie had played with me for over 4 hours.  So if I had just a pair, or if the flop missed me, he knows I would bet there.

The only hand I wouldn’t bet there was the hand I had, KK.  Only with a hand that strong would I have checked (8-8 was less likely since he probably wouldn’t expect me to raise with it, but also possible).   I had gone against my own rule about not slow playing sets…..and sure enough, it had cost me.  Not the pot, but a lot of money I could have won.

If I had bet the flop, he isn’t going anywhere with his set of deuces.  He puts me on AK (or maybe KQ), and calls or raises then.  If he just calls the flop, he raises me on the turn and I re-raise and probably get all his chips.  But I got greedy and lost money for it.

I suppose it’s possible that even if I bet out on the flop, he’s too afraid of KK to ever raise me.  I’ll never know.  But if he keeps calling, I still get more money, if not all his chips.

Two lessons learned.  First, don’t make a continuation bet every damn time.  Mix it up more.

Second, never slow play a set.  I thought I learned that before, but apparently not.

I guess the reason I didn’t get a better pay off there was that I basically played my hand face up.

Erroneous Antes & Exhibitionist Bathrooms

I timed my most recent Vegas visit to coincide with the Red Rock/Ante Up Challenge, a tournament series at, surprise, surprise, The Red Rock.  I gather that Red Rock has usually had this event that time of year, but this was the first time they partnered with Ante Up Magazine.  As I’ve mentioned a few times, I’m the Vegas columnist for Ante Up.  Technically, my title is Las Vegas Ambassador, although I do not have diplomatic immunity.

I visited the venue twice during its run, and got the “business” portion of things accomplished on the first day, a Monday.  That included meeting one of the publishers of the magazine, Scott Long. Scott was sponsoring the event, covering it for Ante Up, and playing in many of the events.  A triple threat!  Most of our business took place while he was playing in the 3:00PM tournament—which he cashed in, I might add.  I sat behind him and we talked. Very nice guy.

The business details aren’t relatable, but I did want to mention the dealer who was at Scott’s table for most of the time I was there.  He looked awfully familiar.  But I was mostly sitting behind him and didn’t get a good look at him.  He turned his head to look at me, and I thought there was some recognition in his eyes.

I eventually figured out who he looked like.  Yes, it was a character I’ve blogged about—twice, in fact, and once very recently (see here).  It was the “Italian Guy” I spoke of in that post and also originally mentioned here.  My first encounter with was a bit unpleasant, but he seemed like a nice guy when I played with him at Aria in December.  I was surprised to see him dealing.

I actually had a chance to talk to him later when he was on a break, I just wanted to be sure it was the same guy.  I confirmed it, he remembered me from the Aria and he definitely knew Stump (jeez, lately Stump’s been getting a lot more mention on my blog than his own).  I asked him if he regularly dealt at Red Rock.  Nope, in fact, he’s not a regular dealer at all.  He said he was a professional grinder and was only dealing for this special event.  I know poker rooms bring in outside help when they have these special events, but I figured there were enough unemployed and underemployed dealers around town that they didn’t have to tap non-dealers for help.  Guess not.  The fact that Red Rock brought in non-dealers to deal plays a big part later in this post.  But although I wasn’t paying that much attention since I wasn’t in the tournament, from what I could recall, Italian Guy performed his dealer duties flawlessly.

Anyway, Italian Guy really seemed like a nice guy, and we had a very pleasant chat.  If he remembered our less pleasant meeting at the Orleans tournament, he sure didn’t bring it up; nor did I.  I guess I caught him on a bad night that first time.  Getting lucky with an all-in call with King-10 will do that to a guy, I suppose.

I didn’t play one of their special event tournaments that night, but returned two nights later to play in the 6PM tournament.  To be honest, I was less than thrilled with the structure the tournaments for this event.  I can say this because Ante Up really had nothing to do with the structures, it was all on Red Rock.  Some of the tournaments in the Ante Up tour are run by the magazine, others they do little more than lend their name to and promote, and some are in the middle.  This one was completely Red Rock run.

But I wanted to make sure I played in at least one event there, and the $100 tournament this night seemed the best bet.  Although previous 6PM events at the same price had been better attended, this one only had 23 runners.  I went with my newly acquired “chip up big early or bust out early” strategy, even though this was hardly a deep stack event (7K in starting chips, 20 minute levels).  I chipped up some early with pocket Jacks.  Got a couple of callers with my preflop raise and nobody called my flop bet.

Very next hand, I had Ace-9 clubs, in late position, limped to me.  I decided to raise there and see if I could steal the limpers money.  Nope, I got a few callers.  The flop missed me completely, but it folded to me and I made a continuation bet.  No one called.  Nice.

That set up a nice situation not too much later.  I got a couple of Aces and one guy called my preflop raise.  I don’t remember the board, but I didn’t catch my set, nor did it look too scary for my hand.  I bet the flop, the turn and the river and got called every time.  The last time the guy said to me, “I’m calling, I just want to see your hand.  You didn’t have to show before, so I want to see your hand.”

Is it always that easy?  I showed my rockets and he mucked without showing, repeating that he just wanted to see my hand.  And then I said, “I had Aces those other times too.  I only play Aces.”  Surprisingly, no one believed me.  Not long after, the same guy busted out, but it was within the re-entry period and he re-entered and took the exact same seat he’d busted out of.  Keep this guy in mind.

Soon, one of the more unusual things I’ve seen in a tournament occurred.  I mentioned I wasn’t thrilled with the structure.  One of the reasons was, the antes started with the second level.  Yeah, the second level.  I’d never seen that before.  I knew this from when they sent me the details of the tournament (for my job with AVP).  So when the second level started and the dealer didn’t request antes, I was a little confused. 

A couple of things here.  There were actually three tournaments going on at once in the tournament room.  The 12PM and the 3PM tournaments were still going on when the 6PM started.  So the tournament director and floor people were spread kind of thin.  Our tournament clock was a tiny hand timer that one of the two dealers for our tournament had.  The dealer had a little sheet in front of him to tell him what the antes were, and it was obvious he didn’t know this from having dealt this tournament before.  He was clearly one of the non-dealers (or part time dealers) who was bought in just for this week long event.  He didn’t make any dealing mistakes, but he looked confused as he was calling for the blinds to be increased.  He tried to find someone to ask about the blinds but there was no one around when it was time to increase them, so he just kind of winged it.

He asked for the proper blinds but didn’t say anything about the antes.  I know I should have said something.  The structure sheet, which I had folded up in my pocket, indicated that there should be antes now, as odd and as odorous as that seemed.  But I suddenly flashed back to high school.  Saying something about the antes would make me feel like that guy who reminds the teacher that she hadn’t given the class homework yet.  So I said nothing.  I tried to see the other table and see if they were collecting antes, but could never look at the right time.

But somewhere along the line, the dealer figured out there were antes. I have no idea how he figured it out, and he didn’t do anything about it until the third level though.  When the third level started, he referred again to the sheet in front of him and said that he had made an error, and he should have been asking for $25 antes all through that level.  Too late to do anything about it, but now there were $50 antes for this level.

It seemed to me he should have told somebody in authority about his goof, but he did not.  But now he was asking us for $50 antes before each hand.  There was some grumbling about that but no one really said anything. 

About ¾’s of the way through the level, a floor person finally came by and noticed that we were putting antes in.  There was some discussion, the tournament director was called over, and the dealer was informed that there were no antes at this level.

Huh?

The tournament director advised the entire table that there was an error and he was extremely apologetic.  Apparently, after the first day of the series, they had so many complaints about the antes starting at the second level, they changed the structure for the rest of the event.  So there were no antes until the 4^th level (pretty normal, of course).  He took the blame himself for not making sure all the dealers were advised.

That’s fine, but I still blame the dealer, who was likely not a regular dealer.  The moment he notice his “error”, he should have called someone over and explained.  In other words, he should have told the floor that he had erroneously failed to collect antes through level 2, so that the floor could decide what, if anything, could be done about that.  Had he done that, he would have been informed that his error wasn’t really an error at all, that the sheet he had in front of him was wrong, and that the antes didn’t start until the 4^th level.  And no harm would have been done, and no error would have been made.

Instead, we had played most of a level paying antes that should not have been paid.  Meanwhile, the tournament director said there was nothing to do but apologize, he understood that the erroneous antes may have affected chip counts but there was no way to go back and correct the mistake.  There was a lot of grumbling now.  The guy next to me said he even saw a sign at the front, where you pay to enter, that the antes started at the 4^th level, not the 2^nd.  Why he didn’t say anything, I don’t know.

The reality is, at that level, and with the antes only $50, it may not have affected anything.  But how can you know for sure?  It’s possible those antes in a pot might have changed someone’s action preflop.  Someone might have tried to steal when they wouldn’t without the antes.  Or resisted a steal when they wouldn’t have otherwise.  And who’s to say that someone with some extra money from a pot they would have won either way wouldn’t affect things down the road?  You know, the blinds at that level were 100/200, so the $50 was a pretty significant percentage of the pot, preflop.  It indeed could have affected things.

I was kind of shocked that something like this could happen, but you know, I try to look on the bright side at times like these.  I have something to blog about!

A few minutes later, some dealers came around and handed out Red Rock Challenge/Ante Up Poker Tour t-shirts.  I thought they were giving these to everyone in the tournament, but no, it was just our table.  It was apparently a make-up to us for the ante error.

The trouble is, even though the antes were only erroneously charged at our table, the other table was certainly affected.  Even if no hand would have played out differently at our table, the chip amounts we all had were affected.  Again, that different chip count as the tournament progress could have totally changed the complexion of the tournament, could have totally changed who won, who cashed, who busted out when.  But we’ll never know.

Back to the tournament.  I was doing pretty good until I got pocket Jacks again.  I made a decent raise and it folded to the guy who had busted out earlier and re-entered.  You know, the guy who paid to see my Aces.  He acted hesitant at first, then said, “OK, I’ll go,” and shoved.  He was short stacked and it didn’t cost me much more to call so I did.  He was Hollywooding.  He flipped over two Aces.  I would have called even without the act.  I didn’t catch a miracle and suddenly I was crippled.

After the break—and I’ll get to the break in a minute—I was now in desperation mode.  An older gentleman raised, and the guy who had crippled me shoved.  I was in the small blind with pocket 7’s.  I suppose I should have folded, but in my situation, desperate for a double up, I decided to gamble.  I would be out soon enough if I didn’t hit something soon.  The first guy folded (Ace Queen, he told us later) and the shover had Ace-King.  I was happy with that, I figured he had high cards, so I was ahead.  But of course he caught a King and my tournament was over.

In my car onto the next stop, I wasn’t thinking about the tournament too much.  Well, the whole ante fiasco some, but mostly I was thinking about the bathrooms. 

Yeah, the bathrooms.

Before the break, I heard some guys talking about them.  I should point out that this tournament series was held in an unusual venue.  It was not in the Red Rock poker room.  Instead, they used a nightclub that apparently had closed.  The club is called the Cherry Nightclub.  They had to bring a ton of extra lighting so you could play poker in there.

Anyway, someone called the restrooms inside the club “see-through bathrooms,”  I couldn’t quite figure out what he meant, but during the break, I found out.  I went over to the where the bathrooms were, a single entry way that led to two rooms.  The first thing I noticed was that it was very difficult to figure out which room was which.  I stood there for a few seconds, and finally, very low, not at sight level as you’d expect, were two not very prominent letters, “W” and “M”.  Ok, took me a second but I got that.

The Men's room was unlikely anything I’d ever seen.  First, there were the urinals, which, as you can see from the pictures below that I got off the internet, they are shaped and decorated to look like, well, a woman’s mouth. A woman’s mouth covered with bright red lipstick.

So you’re basically pissing into a woman’s mouth.

Yeah.

Also, I now understood what was meant by “see-through bathrooms.”  There was glass, and I guess mirrors, all around.  When I was using the urinals, I could see out into the nightclub. Could people see in from outside while I was relieving myself?  I can’t tell you for certain they could not.  Also note that, unlike most Men's rooms, there are no dividers between the urinals.

But by far the most interesting things about the restroom were the stalls.  You know, where you would go if you had to sit, not stand.

Both stalls were surrounded completely by glass.  Totally see-through glass.  There was no privacy whatsoever.  If a guy goes in there, drops trou and has to squeeze one out, he is completely exposed to anyone in the Mens room (at least).  Seriously, anyone and everyone could see you doing your business.  For that matter, they could see your business.

While I was in there, guys were going into the stalls, but only to urinate, so their backs were too us.  But as one guy said, “I’d hate to have to take a shit in this place.”  Indeed.

Then someone pointed out that you could see the glass enclosed thrones in the Ladies room from outside, as you were walking into the Mens room.  I hadn’t noticed.  But I had to check it out.

There were no women around.  I don’t think there was a single female playing in any of the tournaments that night.  I could tell the Ladies room was empty.  I exited and turned around and walked back toward the two rest rooms.  Sure enough, without any effort whatsoever, as I was seeing the “M” and “W” signs, I could very clearly see at least one of the glass enclosed thrones of the Ladies room.  If a gal was using it, if she was just sitting down to pee, any guy walking into the Mens room that moment would see her on the toilet.  And if she went in there for a wardrobe adjustment, forget it!  And again I point out, with the poor signage; it would be real easy to enter the wrong rest room, not that you’d need to see a show.

Now, I’ve talked about bathrooms before (see here). But what this sorta reminded me off is the exhibitionist bathrooms at the Rio.  In their guest rooms, there’s a little window in the shower, so that the person showering can look out into the bedroom, and someone in the bedroom can look into the shower. 

I suppose that’s fine for a couple but the first time I encountered it, my buddy Norm and I were sharing it, and it was a little disconcerting.  He was in Vegas on a business trip, and since he had a free room, I joined him on vacation.  Trust me, neither one of us had any interest in watching the other one showering.

But these Cherry Nightclub restrooms were way, way beyond that.  These were public restrooms.  Very, very public.  Pubic too, now that I think of it.

Definitely exhibitionist bathrooms. 

I left thinking the erroneous antes were a pisser.  And that I had pissed into….well, you know.

(Note, speaking of Ante Up, Scott talked about me in a recent Ante Up pokercast. Since I'm telling you about, he must have said good things.  You can go here to hear it. Scroll down to the 1/24/13 episode titled :"Ante Up Poker Tour at Red Rock.:"  He starts talking about me at around 52 minutes in.  A little bit before, he talks about the Cherry restrooms, has a bit different take on them).