"I Thought You Were a Hot Blonde"

Deep, Deep Run at Aria, Part 1

 
As I hinted at in the post here and elsewhere, before I left Vegas early this month, I had a very nice run at the Aria 1PM $125 tournament.  It was such a nice run it will take me two posts to get it all in (poker pun not intended).  Let’s start with part 1, since starting with part 2 would be just weird.

My original plan was to be driving back to LA on this day (the first Saturday of 2015).  Initially, I figured that 30 nights in Vegas would be plenty.  But as my departure date approached, I had started to run pretty good at the poker tables.  I realized that my bankroll could easily withstand a few more nights in town, and I had nothing I needed to get home to until Tuesday of the next week anyway.  Besides, the city was still jammed with New Years visitors and the games figured to be quite juicy.

So I arranged to stay a couple of more days and go home on Monday.

That meant one more Saturday in Vegas. I almost always play in a tournament when I’m in Vegas on a Saturday.  And usually I play in the Binion’s 2PM, downtown.  However, I decided against that this time.  As I mentioned in a few other posts, the weather in Vegas during the holidays had gotten unusually cold.  Now I don’t want to hear any shit from those of you who live in cold-weather cities that desire to make fun of me for thinking that 30 degree temperatures are cold.  I didn’t tell you to live in cities where the temperature regularly reaches single digits.  I’ve lived most of my life in Los Angeles, and if the thermometer reads 65 degrees we start worrying about frostbite.  I’m just not used to anything 50 or below.

Thus, the week before, when I played at Binion’s, it was really, really cold.  Low 40’s during the day, dipping to 35 at nite.  Plus it was somewhat windy, make the temperature seem lower.

The Binion’s tournament area is kind of exposed to the elements.  It’s not part of the poker room, which is actually pretty nice.  When I first started playing in it, the weekend tournaments were held in this very nice, enclosed room that was very comfortable, near the poker room (basically separated by the Binion’s Deli).  However, management at Binion’s decided to lease that space out for an Elvis Presley Museum a year or two ago.  That didn’t go over too well and Elvis has left the building, but for some reason, the powers that be didn’t let the poker room take back the nice room for their tournaments, preferring to leave that space basically empty.  Go figure.

So the big Saturday tournament is held in this wide open area outside that nice enclosed room where it could be and should be held.  The area is very close to not one, not two, but three doors to the outside world. Traffic is constantly coming in and out of those doors.  When someone comes in or leaves, a blast of cold air comes into the tournament area.  Even when no one is coming in or out, the building is quite old and the doors don’t shut probably.  So there’s always a little bit of cold air from outside anyway.

On top of that, I think the ventilation system doesn’t work too well in this part of the casino (I walked through other parts, including the actual poker room, and it was fine).  Or, it may just be that someone thought it was a good idea to crank the A/C up on a very cold December day.  I dunno.

Furthermore, I was assigned to one of the tables closest to one of the doors to the street  As the tournament started, I was incredibly, uncomfortably cold.  I thought I was prepared for it.  I had a t-shirt, a long-sleeved shirt, a sweater and also a ski jacket, the warmest jacket I have.  I started the tournament without the jacket on (because, seriously, who would wear a ski jacket indoors?) and was freezing.  I had to put the jacket on.  That kept my arms fairly comfortable, but my legs, feet and hands were still ice cold.  I honestly couldn’t stand it, it was extremely uncomfortable.

Everyone at my table was unhappy and complaining about it.  But there didn’t appear that anything could be done.  And as the day wore on and evening approached, it only figured to get worse, not better.

After an hour or two, I was actually dying to bust out.  I started playing super aggro and just looked for any excuse to get my chips in the middle.  I actually considered just leaving with chips behind and let them blind me off in absentia.  Instead, I called all-in on a flush draw I had picked up on the turn (a move I wouldn’t ordinarily have made that early in the tournament—3^rd level I believe—and was very relieved when I missed and could get the hell out of there, something I wasted no time in doing.

The point is, the warming trend the weatherman promised was supposed to start just as I was heading out of town.  Even though it had warmed up a bit, the experience from last week had left such a bad taste in my mouth, I didn’t dare take a chance of experiencing it again.  I decided against playing at Binion’s that Saturday.

Which left me with Aria, another excellent choice.  I had already played Aria tourneys three times this trip. The first time, you read about here.  The other two times were the week after that for the PokerAtlas Meet & Greet, and then on Christmas Day (because this Jew doesn’t work on Christmas).  Neither of those two times were worth a blog post, sadly.  But I do like the Aria tournament and it is an excellent place to play, even if it is a little bit cramped (both the tables when you are 10-handed for the tournament and the room itself).

I was assigned to seat 3 and in seat 2 at the table there was a guy who had an interesting story to tell as we were getting under way.  He said that the night before, he was playing 4/8 limit Hold’em with Antonio Esfandiari, noted poker pro.  The last time I mentioned “MagicAntonio” was in the post here.  I’m going to call the fellow with the MagicAntonio story  in Seat 2 “Tim,” because that’s his name.  I only learned that days later and you’ll have to wait until part 2 of this story to find out how I found out.  Anyway, Tim said that Antonio’s father was with him, and that’s apparently why they were playing 4/8.  Tim reported that Antonio was a real nice guy and obviously it was a thrill for a recreational poker player to find himself playing with such a great player.

The tournament began and the first two cards dealt to me that day were both Kings.  Yes, yes, getting the tournament started with the dreaded hand.  Gulp.  Was this some kind of omen?  Was I about to bust out on the first hand?  I promised myself I wouldn’t get all my chips in preflop, at least.  Too early.

My neighbor to my right, Tim, raised to $200 in front of me (blinds start at 25/50 with a $10K starting stack).  I made it $500.  It folded back to Tim, who just called.  The flop was low and I bet $800; Tim called.  Another blank on the turn and we both checked.  Note, it being early in the tournament, and since I just had an overpair (and that overpair being my Kryptonite hand), I was being extra cautious.  I had showdown value, afterall.  Another blank on the river, and Tim led out for $1200.  I called.  He had 8-7 of spades and nothing on the board.  My lousy Kings held and I had dodged my first bullet this tournament.

Still on level 1, I raised with A-K & A-Q, missed, fired c-bets, got called, and let them go.  Then on level 2, I didn’t do much of anything.  Started level 3 (100/200) with $10,500.  I had pocket Queens, raised to $550 and had three callers.  The flop was 9-9-X and I bet $2K.  One player called.  I bet $4K on a blank river.  My opponent had a lot of chips, way more than me.  He tanked for a bit and then folded.

Started level 4 (25/100/200) with $14,500.   I raised to $800 with King-10 clubs.  Three called.  The flop was Ace-Queen-X, no clubs.  I bet $2,500.  A guy shoved for about three times my bet.  I folded.  I suppose a c-bet four handed was bad there, but my thinking was that since I raised pre, they’d put me on a big Ace and let it go.  Also, I did have the gutshot if I got called.  But I couldn’t call a raise.

Level 5 (25/200/400), $10,200.  From this point on, I’ll try to make note of what my “Tournament M” was.  You will see that I rarely had a lot of chips, and that, in fact, I was in desperation mode or pretty damn close to it most of the tournament.  So my “M” here is about 12-1/2.   I called a raise to $1,050 with pocket 6’s.  A guy raised behind me, the original raiser shoved, and of course I got out.  The other player called.  It was pocket 10’s vs. Ace-King.  I don’t remember who won the race, but my 6’s were never good.

Level 6 (50/300/600) $8,300 (barely above an “M” of 5—and when you reach 5 you’re essentially in fold-or-shove mode).  In the small blind, I completed with 9-6 off after two limped and I thought there was a good chance the BB would just check, which he did. The flop was 8-7-x.  I called $1,100 and it was heads up.  I suppose I should have shoved with my draw there, but I decided to wait.  I missed and folded to a shove. 

This put me in more dire straits (though if I had shoved my draw there and been called, I would have been out).  Meanwhile, an interesting guy had taken the seat to my immediately left. I didn’t know his name, but I definitely recognized him as someone I’d played with before.  An older guy, very friendly, quite loquacious, and rather witty.  And he wore a fedora. Let’s call him “Jerry” because he was a bit of a comedian, like Jerry Lewis. Or because he told me his name was Jerry.

I wasn’t sure if he had come from another table or had just registered late, but as soon as he got to the table he noticed that chairs were not evenly distributed around the table and there was not a lot of room for him.  Part of the problem was the guy in the 6 seat was taking up a lot of space.  This guy (seat 6) was huge.  He was a young guy who was morbidly obese.  Then, at one point, I noticed him jump up from the table to get something—it was Kleenex.  And he took that Kleenex and shoved it up his nose.  He was nose was suddenly bleeding profusely.  Yuck.

Seriously, he kept pulling bloody tissues out of his nose and putting new, clean ones in.  It was disgusting.  He said he hadn’t had a nosebleed in “a long time.”  Now, I felt bad for the guy but really, it was rather uncomfortable playing with him.  I mean, I know in the NBA they don’t let a player stay in the game if he’s bleeding, he has to come out until they can get the bleeding to stop.  They don’t want his blood flying all around.  This guy was possibly getting his blood on the cards and the chips! 

I seriously considered asking if he should be allowed to continue in the tournament in his condition, but I didn’t.  Eventually, his nose stopped bleeding before he busted out. 

Back to Jerry.  When he arrived at the table he immediately asked for the table to be squared.  As soon as he had sat down, our knees knocked.  He said, “As much as I might like to get to know my new friend here (meaning me), I think we might be just a little bit too close.”

I said to him, “You wouldn’t say that if I was a hot blonde.”  I knew I was speaking his language.

He said, “I thought you were a hot blonde.  I better get my eyes checked.”  For the rest of the time he sat next to me, Jerry entertained us with wisecracks and his life story.  Honestly, he talked so much that it could have easily been annoying, but he was such a good raconteur that he never got overbearing.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember his one-liners the next day.  One thing he did tell us that shocked us all was how old he was. I won’t say, but I will say he looked at least 15-20 years younger than he was.  Funny, interesting, entertaining guy and I hope I get to play at the same table with again sometime.

But I digress. On this same level, in the small blind, I once again found myself looking at pocket Kings.  It folded to the button who raised to $3K.  Easy decision for me, I shoved.  Jerry, who had me covered by a lot shoved behind me from the big blind.  Gulp.  He couldn’t have Aces, could he?  The original raiser folded.

I flipped over my Kings and Jerry showed two Queens.  The Kings held and I won a really nice pot, just when I needed it.

The very next hand I had pocket Queens myself.  A guy in late position “accidentally” raised to $2K.  It looked like he had grabbed the wrong color chip based on his reaction.  I put in a big three-bet and he folded, admitting that he meant to limp.

A hand or two later I raised to $2K with Queen-Jack offsuit and no one called.  Now I was sitting behind a fairly nice stack and Jerry said to me, “Look at you now.  I knew you when you were nothing.  In fact, I made you the man you are today.”

So at the start of level 7 (75/400/800), I had  $17,700, which was still slightly less than an M of 10.  On the button I had Ace-King off.  Someone raised to $2K, one player called, and I shoved. The first guy folded, but the next guy called all in for about $4-$5K.  He flipped over pocket 6’s. The turn was a King giving me the pot.

Soon thereafter, I had pocket 10’s and it was raised to $2K in front of me, I went ahead and made it $6K.  Then Jerry shoved behind me.  He had me covered. The original raiser folded and I did as well.  Jerry didn’t show, but he told me he had the pocket Kings this time, and I believed him. I didn’t feeling like risking my tournament life on pocket 10’s when I didn’t have to.

I raised to $2,500 with Queen-10 of clubs.  Yes, I raised with the “evil hand,” Coach.  But a short stack shoved over me for about $6-$7K and I let it go.

First in, I raised to $2,500 with King-Jack hearts and no one called.

Which brings us to the end of level 7, and also to the end of part 1 of this tournament summary.  The conclusion is now posted and can be found here.

"You Are the King"

Where was I?  In my previous post (see here), I had just left the Aria and the WPBT to head for the MGM.  I was waiting for Lightning to join me. I hoped I’d be waiting a long time, but he didn’t last too long after I left.  I was also waiting to hear from Nick (Cokeboy) who was flying out from IL that afternoon/evening.  He planned to meet up with us at the MGM for the evening. 

It was late afternoon.  I was playing some totally unmemorable poker when Lightning did indeed show up, full of tales of bad beats.  He was assigned a different table and since the one I was at wasn’t particularly exciting, I got a table change and ended up directly on his right.  Before I moved, I managed to drop close to $100 at the first table, not winning a hand.  The closest I came was when I raised with pocket 9’s, made a c-bet on a Q-Q-x board.  I checked the turn and the river was another Queen.  I called a $30 bet from the other player.  He had pocket 10’s.  Well, I did get a drawing ticket for it.

Sitting next to Lightning, I raised to $15 (after many limpers) with Ace-King.  I think two or three called, including Edward.  I’ll describe Edward in a minute.  The flop came King-7-x.  I bet $40 and Edward raised, it looked like he eyeballed my stack and bet a bit more than I had, which was about $100-$110 when the hand started.  Edward had a huge stack of chips.  I thought I was likely beat, but I was pot committed so I called.  The Ace I caught on the river was too little, too late, Edward had flopped a set of 7’s.

I guess I should talk about Edward since he’ll probably figure in a few future posts.  I don’t think I’d ever seen Edward before this trip, but in December I saw him a lot.  A whole lot.  He must be one of those new regulars the freeroll brought in.  I would have definitely remembered him if I’d seen him before, he kind of stood out.  He was tall.  Really tall.  He was of the African-American persuasion.  He was also very friendly and quite funny.  Quite chatty too, but not overly so.  And at one point he mentioned that he was closing in on 90 hours for the freeroll that would be held the next day.

I had to rebuy.  Won a few small pots, one of them when I limped with pocket 5’s.  No raise.  I caught my set and bet $5 and absolutely nobody called.  That’s how the day was going.

Then I had pocket Jacks.  I raised to $10. Three players called my bet, including the fellow sitting directly to my left, a very bad player that, for the purpose of this story, we are going to call Lightning.  The flop was Jack-9-x, two hearts.

My notes might not be totally correct here because of what happened afterwards.  It took me a long time to write the hand down and what I wrote down didn’t make sense to me the next morning.  But according to the notes it was four-handed and I only bet $15.  Seems too little, although I might have been trying to find the right compromise between slow-playing my set and somewhat protecting it against a flush.  Yeah, doesn’t make sense to me either.  So that might a bit off.  The important thing is that Lightning called and it was now heads up.

The turn was an 8, and not a heart.  I bet $30 and suddenly Lightning raised it to $60.  WTF?

I immediately dismissed the possibility that he had a straight.  He’d have to be playing Queen-10, and as all know from our friend Coach, Queen-10 is the “evil hand.”  It’s a junk hand and I wouldn’t expect Lightning to have called a raise with it, at least a raise made by a nit like me.

I was thinking maybe I had set over set….or perhaps he was betting the flush draw?  Maybe he had pocket 10’s and picked up the open-ender?  I called.

The river blanked, I checked and Lightning put his last $33 out in front of him.  I had him covered and even though at that point I was thinking this donkey may actually have played Queen-10, I couldn’t fold for that little a bet.  I shrugged and said to myself, “OK, I’ll give Lightning $33.”

As I put the chips out, I said to him, “You couldn’t be playing Queen-10?  That’s the evil hand.”

And of course Lightning turned over his Queen-10 of spades.  He said it was his favorite hand—specifically Queen-10 of spades.  I immediately tweeted to Coach that I doubled Lightning up for playing the evil hand, and that he crushed my set of Jacks (which I hadn’t showed to him at the time, I just mucked).  When he learned I had the set of Jacks, he indicated that he had no idea I was that strong there.

After Coach’s tweet back that the evil in the evil hand can work both ways, I tweeted back, “I mean, he called my raise pre with QT.  Who knew he was that bad a player?”

Seriously, if you are going to double up your friends, at least you can have the fun of teasing them for it.  I had to get something for my money.

That became one of the dominant running gags of the evening—and of Lightning’s visit to Vegas, really.  I would go back and call him a bad player for calling my preflop raise and he would play his trump card—who was it who won the pot?

It was all in good fun, and the ribbing back and forth continued.  This actually got the attention of Edward.  He started giving me a hard time for giving Lightning a hard time.  “You guys are buddies and you keep calling him a bad player.”  He didn’t get the dynamic.  I suppose I should have told him all this would make the blog post better, but I didn’t.  Then he started calling me “Darren Hellmuth.”  As in, “You must be Darren Hellmuth, Phil’s brother.  Telling everyone that you’re a better poker player than they are.”  I just laughed.  For the record, I never referred to myself as a good player or as a better player than Lightning.  I just said that he was a bad player for calling my preflop raise with Q-10.

We decided to take a dinner break and I suggested we eat at the sports bar conveniently located next to the MGM poker room, Tap.  As we were talking about this, Edward overheard us and offered to sell us his comps at 50%.  This was amusing.  Edward must have thought he had more comps than me.  Even with the 90 hours he’d accumulated in the prior week, I seriously doubt that, but I didn’t tell him.  I just said no thanks. 

As we were waiting to get seated at Tap, I heard from Nick and he was on his way, so he joined us.  And it turned out that he had informed grrouchie of his plans, and he was available this evening, so he joined us as well.  Three of us ate and all grrouchie had was a huge mug of beer.  Note:  I dunno if he just wasn’t hungry, or if beer is now the only thing grrouchie consumes these days.

We had a great time at dinner swapping stories about mutual acquaintances and some other notorious characters we’ve encountered in the poker world.  We probably talked about every other blogger we knew who wasn’t there to defend him or herself.  It was an awesome time, but I would probably get sued for defamation if I related any of the tales.  Sorry. 

After settling up the bill (with my comps that I didn’t buy off Edward), we headed back to the poker room. Of course we wanted to sit together at the same table and have a good time together.  One of the group made a reference to the “TBC Invitational” from a few months back and asked if I was going to throw my weight around to get us all us all seated at the same like I did at the Venetian (see here).  In fact, on that night, I wasn’t able to use any “pull” at all to get us together, I just did what anyone else could have done and then got kind of lucky.

But this time I thought I had an edge.  This was the MGM, my “home” poker room, where just about everybody who works there knows me on sight. Some of them even like me. When I saw that my pal Susan was behind the counter taking names and assigning seats, I decided to have some fun and test her a bit.  For a good story about Susan, you can see the post here.

So, in response to the question of whether or not I was going to throw my weight around to get us all seated together, I turned to the group and said, “Watch this.”  And as I got to the counter and Susan saw me, I kind of pounded my hand on the counter and said, “OK, Susan, this is what we want.  We’ve got four of us and we all want to sit together at the same table.”

Truth be told, I couldn’t be sure of what Susan’s response would be.  And truth further to be told, I was acting like just a bit of asshole the way I said it.  If it was anyone else but Susan, she might have told me to go to hell.  And I actually considered the possibility that she might indeed do that.  This was totally impromptu, we had arranged nothing, and she might have been taken aback by my uncharacteristically aggressive approach.

And if she had reacted like that, it would have been ok.  It would have made a great story that way.  I could have turned to my pals and said, “See how much pull I have here?” and everyone would have gotten a good laugh out of it.

But no, as I suspected, Susan was absolutely awesome.  She didn’t blink, she didn’t act surprised. She looked at me and said loudly enough for all of my pals to hear, “You got it Rob.  Whatever you want.  You are the king.” Note: I thought she said “you are the king of this poker room,” but grrouchie insisted (and tweeted) that she only said “king”—which I guess makes me even more omnipotent.

The three of them all were left with their mouths wide open in amazement.  If I had given Susan a script, it wouldn’t have been any better.  She was absolutely perfect.  It took every ounce of self-control I possess not to have jumped over the counter to kiss her.

With a grin that I’m sure could only be described as “shit-eating,” I turned to the three of them and said, “See?” 

Susan continued, “Just give me some names and I’ll make sure you’re all on the same table. No problem.”

Now, as we were doing this, good ol’ Edward was cashing out.  He saw us ask to be at the same table and said to us, “You all want to take each other’s money?”  No, actually, we just all wanted to sit at the same table and have a blast.

I was called into a game almost immediately, but then the waitlist grew and they started a new game soon thereafter.  Suddenly, the gang came by and said to me, “Susan told us to grab you by the hair and take you to the new game they’re starting.”  I had only played one hand at the game I was originally sent to.  So, just like that, we were all sitting at the same table, all of us right in the same corner, in fact.  I am the king!

The conversation picked up right where it left off at dinner, with the occasional discussion of the poker we were playing taking place.  I kept ribbing Lightning about his bad play costing me money, and then he and Nick got into a hand that resulted in Lightning referring to Nick as a “weasel dick.”  I think Nick convinced Lightning that he had bluffed him off a winning hand.

I was too busy talking and listening to write down many hands, but there wasn’t much for me to make note off.  I was completely card dead, and seeing as how I was paying more attention to the conversation than the poker, I played very tight.  One hand of significance came when I limped in with pocket 4’s.  Only three of us saw a flop, including an off-duty daytime dealer I knew. No one bet the flop or the turn.  But the river put a fourth diamond out there and indeed, I had the 4 of diamonds for the baby flush.  The trouble was that there was only $6 in the pot and In order to get a drawing ticket, there has to be at least $10 in the pot.  I knew I had to bet and pray for a call.  As I put out $3, the off-duty dealer, thinking I had checked, flipped over his hand.  He had the 6 of diamonds for the bigger flush.  But even though he might have seen my hand, he just called my bet.  Although I lost the tiny pot, it did give me the drawing ticket.  It was the only one of the night for me.  Note, because he works there, the dealer was not eligible for the cash drawing, so he called just to win the pot. 

There was a hand involving Nick and another player worth noting.  Preflop, there were a couple of raises back and forth and eventually Nick called an all-in.  They didn’t show.  There were three clubs on the flop, and a fourth club on the turn.  That’s when Nick flipped over his dreaded pocket Kings, one of which was a club.  The other guy flipped over his pocket Aces, neither of which a club.  As I tweeted out at the time, Nick had proven that he was still the “king of pocket Kings,” (see here).

There was a hand against Nick when he limped in UTG and next to act, I raised with Ace-6 of clubs.  At some point in the hand (not sure when), Nick shoved and I folded (as did the other guy in the hand).  Nick had Ace-Queen (there was an Ace on the board, but I had missed my flush draw and didn’t like my kicker).  I asked Nick why he hadn’t raised with Ace-Queen preflop.  He said he didn’t want to raise with it UTG.  I said, “Boy, I can’t win a hand against these bad players.”

I was down a couple of buy-ins and then some when the midnite drawing came around.  Just that one ticket, but they were drawing 10 tickets worth $100 each.  And they not only picked my lone ticket, they picked one of Nick’s tickets as well.  Nice.  That $100 saved me from an even more horrific day, pokerwise. 

Still, I’d been up a long time and had been playing poker since 11AM. So I said goodbye to the gang and left the game.  Susan cashed me out and I gave her a nice tip for her perfect performance.  She said that, even though she had no idea what was going on, she was happy to do it and enjoyed it.  In fact, a few weeks later, she asked me when my buddies were going to come back so we could do it again.  I had to sadly report that my buddies were long gone.

A very fun day, good times, good folks.  But lousy poker.

Kissing, Motorboating, And a Little Poker at the WPBT

I needed to be in Vegas in early December to play the WPBT Winter Classic, an event I played in for the third straight year.  My previous reports on this event can be found here and here.  In the first one, I reported on some excellent girl-on-girl smooching, and in the second one, I reported on personally cashing in the event, so you might want to take the time to refresh your memory by reading those two posts.

WPBT stands for “World Poker Bloggers Tour” and the first post I linked to above explains everything you need to know about it.

Before I get to it, I just want to say that, as usual for this event, I will be using “real names.”  At least real in the sense that I will be using people’s real Twitter or Blogging handles.  Ordinarily when I tell stories like this one, I would come up with my own pseudonyms.  But these events took place in full view of my fellow bloggers (or semi-retired bloggers, who are now mostly Tweeters), so it would be silly to assign them phony names.  Besides, by now, everyone knows the types of posts I do.  They knew who I am.  They know I was there.  They had ample opportunity to ask me not to blog about any specific events I witnessed and did not do so.  So I figured I have at least implied consent to tell this story in my own perverted unique way.  Note:  If ever anyone asks me not to blog about something I’ve heard or witnessed, I will always honor that request.  I have done so numerous times.

I arrived at the Aria a bit before the scheduled 11AM starting time.  I immediately found Lightning, who has already reported on this event in the post here.  But I should warn you, his post is mostly about the poker. This post is mostly not about poker.

Lightning had been in town for a day or two, same as me, but this was the first time we had gotten together this time.  We had agreed to be “last longer” partners.  I’m not sure which one of us got the worst of that deal.  Probably both of us.

Lightning was talking to yestbay who was running the last-longer pool.  I greeted him and gave him my $10, which I will never see again.  We had a nice little chat and then Lightning introduced me to AgSweep, a long-time member of the TBC inner-circle.  We had a really nice, all too short conversation.  Part of the conversation consisted of AgSweep telling us about some of the things she’s done to help Tony in the past.  Part of the conversation concerned her telling me that she likes my blog (this was my favorite part).  She said she even liked my Slut Parade posts, and the slut parade itself.  AgSweep said she is amused watching the girls trying to—and so often failing to—successfully walk in the very high heels they are wearing.  She thinks it’s ridiculous that the girls don’t bother learning how to walk in those shoes if they are going to wear them. She also mentioned that her son likes the Slut Parade, but I suspect his reasons have little to do with the girls’ shoes.  And to be honest, she did mention that she sometimes doesn’t read all the way through my posts.  Which is weird, because I’ve never heard that before.

Another person I talked to briefly before things began was Numbono.  It turned out that, for the first time in three years, we were not at the same starting table.  It was Numbono who gave me the title of last year’s post about the event.

The hosts of this event were PokerVixen and CK, same as last year.  Both these wonderful ladies are vital members of the Vegas poker community and just as they did the previous year, they did a fantastic job organizing the event.  Before the tournament started, I was able to chat briefly with both and CK even greeted me with a hug.  During the tournament she referred to me at least once as “robvegaspoker.”

That was nice, but what was not-so-nice was that CK was assigned to the seat directly to my left.  Nothing personal against her, it’s just that I know from both experience and reputation she is a very tough poker player.  Her nickname is “The Black Widow of Poker” and she’s earned it.

On top of that, PokerVixen was also at my table.  She too is an excellent player.  I thought it was weird that the two organizers were assigned to the same table, but it was just random.  Also at my table was Grange, the third straight year I had the misfortune to be at the same starting table as him.  Misfortune that is, only because he’s such a damn good poker player. 

I tweeted out my table and seat number in case there was anyone there that wanted to meet me (yes, there actually are people who want to meet me).  I also tweeted out about my table mates.

One response came from JacqMinx, who I’ve been tweeting back and forth with for some time, but whom I had never met.  I don’t think she’s ever commented on the blog but I know she has read it based on some the tweets she’s sent me.

Remember the girl Didi, who pulled down her shirt to expose her purple bra?  Of course you do, but if you need a reminder you can find it here. Within minutes of her pulling down her top, I sent out a tweet telling all my followers that she had done it. When she pulled down her shirt, she announced that she had big tits, and that was definitely one time a poker player was not bluffing.  Of course, I mentioned in my tweet this announcement of hers.

Almost immediately I got a tweet back from JacqMinx, “It wasn’t me!”

That may have been my first real interaction with her so I was a bit surprised, but I tweeted back to her, “Why the heck not?”

She responded, “I don’t have a purple bra.  Give new meaning to ‘deal to the stack, not the rack!’”

My kind of woman, obviously, even if I had never heard that particular expression before.

Last summer I did a post (with pics) about “The Devil Girl of Fremont Street” (see here).  Soon after it was live, JacqMinx tweeted to me, “this was not the ‘Devil’ I was expecting.  38DDD was the one I saw.  Lol.”

See why I wanted to meet her?  (BTW, I never did find the Devil girl she was talking about).

Anyway, she tweeted at me that I was at a tough table and told me her table number.  The tournament had already started and she had her back to me; I was only able to see the back of head.  But I did catch up to her during the break and we had time for a nice little chat (both of us saying, “nice to finally meet you in person” at practically the same time).

The tournament started and the conversation was flowing.  CK was talking about how, in high school and/or college, she was in the Theater Arts program and had done some acting.  One of the guys at the table (someone I couldn’t identify) rudely asked if she had ever tried porn.

She said no. “I got no boobs.”  She grabbed her chest when she said this. “They like the big, inflated boobs,” explaining why she couldn’t do porn.

I’m not sure if the porn discussion was the lead in, but soon someone mentioned the subject of girl-on-girl action.  And CK said, rather matter-of-factly, “Yeah, I’ve done that before.  At this tournament in fact.” She was of course referring to the kissing display with another woman that I talked about in very first post I linked to above.

To which PokerVixen, looking directly at me, responded, “Yeah, and then Rob writes a blog about it.”

Around this time, I started hear the expression “sister-wife” coming from CK.  One of her “sister-wives” was Michelle, her accomplice from two years ago.  But she was now talking about sister-wife #2.  Sister-wife #2 was obviously at this very event (unlike Michelle).  And lo and behold, it turned out that it was none-other-than JacqMinx! Actually, I think CK indicated that JackMinx was going to be sister-wife #2.  And it seemed like we were all about to witness the initiation.

At this point, we must have been past the first break, because JacqMinx’s table had broken and she had moved to the same table as Lightning.  Suddenly, at a moment when CK was out of a hand, she got up, went over to JacqMinx, and kissed her right on the lips.  Needless to say, this got the attention of pretty much everyone in the room. 

A little later, I noticed JacqMinx’s tweet to CK.  “the convo at my table is about makeout sessions with you.”  To which CK tweeted back, “now it is all about us!”

Of course, I couldn’t let this go by without a comment, so I tweeted back to both of them, “Details coming soon to a blog post near you. Thanks, ladies.”

Ok, so it’s not exactly “soon.”  Sorry.  But JacqMinx favorited my tweet, so I can only assume she is has been eagerly waiting for this blogpost for all this time.

When I caught up to her again, after I busted, JacqMinx told me she was surprised. “I didn’t give any tongue, but CK did.”

Speaking of busting, I guess I should get to the actual poker, since it won’t take very long. But don’t worry, we’ll get back to the girl-on-girl action before this is over, trust me.

First level (25/50) I called PokerVixen’s raise to $150 with Ace-Queen. I think it was three-handed.  The flop was King-high.  She bet $250 and I called.  The turn was a blank and we both checked.  The river was a Queen and we both checked.  She turned over pocket Jacks and when she saw that I had rivered her, she said, “Aww, I should have bet.”

Against another player I hit a set of 7’s after calling a preflop raise.  I just called the c-bet when I hit my set on a rainbow board, but he checked the turn and didn’t call my bet.

Then came the hand the killed me.  It was only the second level (50/100) and I was down to about 8K or so from the 10K starting stack.  I had pocket 6’s.  I limped in; no one raised.  Again I caught my set, but this time there were two spades.  The guy to CK’s left led out for $500. I made it $1,500.  CK, sitting between the two of us, called, and the initial bettor called.

The turn was a damn spade.  The guy who bet the flop checked.  I checked.  CK bet out $3,500.  The guy next to her shoved for around $4,500-$4,800.  I had that covered, and I knew that shove wasn’t big enough for CK to re-raise if I just called.  Even on a three-spade board, I just couldn’t bring myself to fold a set.  I guess I should have, but I figured if I called I’d still have chips left and I’d see the river and maybe catch my boat.  Besides, I couldn’t be sure either one of them had the flush, right?  And I sometimes take chances like that in tournaments to catch a really big pot early.

I called.  CK actually tried to raise but the dealer informed her all she could do was call.  I got to see the river card which was worthless to me.  When CK went all in on the river (she had me covered), I knew I was beat, so I folded.  In fact, they both had flushes.  CK had Ace-2 of spades and the other guy had King-Queen of spaces.  He was gone and I was on life support.  I didn’t show but I did tell CK that I had a set.

So I started level 3 (100/200) with about 2K and thus was in desperation mode.

Thus, when with only one limper, who happened to be Grange, I shoved with Ace-6 suited.  It folded back to Grange. He was reluctant to call, he didn’t want to show his hand, but he had a big stack so he had to call my short-shove.  He showed 7-2.  Note: At these blogger tournaments, there is always a big deal made whenever anyone wins with 7-2, ie, “the hammer,” and in fact, PokerVixen had little prizes she was giving out for anyone who won a pot with that hand.

The flop was all blanks.  The turn was a deuce, which seemingly ended my tournament.  But no, a second later, the dealer put an Ace on the board to save me.  Grange of course laughingly protested that I had sucked out on him.  I pointed out that he was ahead for all of five seconds. Grange protested that it would have been a much better hand for me to write about if I hadn’t sucked out on him.  Do you agree?

My $3k+ stack didn’t last much longer.  UTG, I had King-9 of hearts, and desperate as I was, I shoved.  It was my first opportunity in many hands to open the pot, it had almost always be raised before it got to me. CK, right behind me with a nice big stack, called.  No one else did. She had Ace-Jack off.  The flop was 10-high, but the turn was a King, giving me hope.  Then a Queen on the river gave her the straight and my tournament was over.

CK not only hugged me goodbye but gave me a little peck on the cheek.  Now, I believe that, by the commutative law of kissing, this means I’ve kissed JacqMinx as well.

After busting, I was in serious need of food.  I took the brief stroll through the walkway between Aria and Monte Carlo and ate at one of the pricier Subways on the planet (because it’s located on the Strip).  So it cost me nearly $11 for a foot long tuna sub (no drink, no chips).

Then I returned to the Aria to see how my last-long partner was doing.  Sadly, not too well, but he was still alive.  I railed for him for a bit.. I have to say, my timing was beyond incredible.

You see, while I was standing behind Lightning, JacqMinx busted out (sorry).  By this time they were down to two tables and Lightning and CK were at the same table, more or less across from each other.  JacqMinx came by to say goodbye to her sister-wife, CK.  And that goodbye consisted of another kiss on the lips between the two of them.  But that wasn’t all.  CK was sitting and JacqMinx, who isn’t the tallest woman I’ve ever seen, was standing right next to her.

So CK leaned up and buried her face in JacqMinx’s chest and essentially motorboated her through her top.  Now, being a gentleman, I never, ever notice a woman’s chest, as all of you readers know.  But I have a strong feeling that if I somehow had noticed JackqMinx’s chest, I might possible have noticed that it was completely covered and not at all unnoticeable.  After the motorboating, CK just rested he head gently on JacqMinx’s chest for a few seconds (it seemed like a half hour to me, but I’m pretty sure it was just a few seconds).

At this point, I leaned into Lightning and said, “I do have good timing, don’t I?”  I think I may have also said to him, “And I was here to see that.”  To be honest, I’m not sure if Lightning even heard me—or even saw what was going on—because, silly boy, he was actually paying attention to the poker.

I decided to head over to MGM after that, and Lightning agreed that he would join me there in the unfortunate event that he busted from the tournament. 

The story of the rest of the day will have to wait for another time (unless you have read Lightning’s short version of it).  (Edited to add:  That time is now!  See the foolishness of the rest of the day right here!)

These experience with the WPBT was the quickest ever for me, but I certainly couldn’t complain about the blogging material I scored.  Looking forward to next year!