Poker is Fun When You Bet the Nuts and Get Raised

If history repeats itself, this surely was a good history to repeat.

But my most recent session here in Southern California wasn’t exactly a duplicate of the session I had the Saturday before at the Bike (see here).  This one had a really bad start.  But the end result was close enough to the prior week's result to make me happy.  And yes, again, it all came down to two big hands.

This time I headed back to Ventura to hit the Player’s Casino.  No, the incredible success I had the Saturday before at the Bike didn’t convince me to return there.  I figured lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same place.  Besides, as I mentioned in this post, I have come to really enjoy playing at PC.

You know those sessions where you sit there for an hour or two without getting a decent hand to play?  This was the complete opposite of that.

Unlike my last few times there, I didn’t get to start a new table.  After a few minutes of waiting, I was sent to a game in progress.  I was surprised that I didn’t recognize a single player in the game, that’s the first time that’s happened at PC in quite some time. 

Perhaps that explains why, on the very first hand I was dealt, I choked.  Well, “choked” may be too strong a word (or, perhaps not).  But I’m not proud of my play.

That first hand I was dealt Ace-King of clubs.  And I just limped in.  I kind of have a thing about raising my first hand or two at a table—I don’t do it.  Oh, I’ll do it if I have Aces or Kings or Queens, but most hands I’d ordinarily be inclined to raise with, I’ll just limp in, because I have zero feel for the table, and I don’t really want to introduce myself to the table by raising right off the bat.  I know some people like raising their first hand to try to convey a certain image. They’ll even do it with garbage. I should probably try it sometime.  But it’s just not natural for me.  And since I had no “book” on anyone at the table, I just wanted to see what developed.

It was 4 or 5 of us seeing a flop, which was King-high and had two diamonds.  A guy led out for $10 and I just called.  Another bad play, but I was trying to ease into the game.  A third player called.  The turn was a blank and no one bet (apparently I was committed to playing this hand as meekly as possible). The river was the Ace of diamonds, giving me top two with the flush out there.  This time the guy who had called the flop bet led out for $20.  The other guy folded and I made the call.  Twenty bucks wasn’t enough to get me to fold two pair.  But of course he showed a baby flush.  It was something like 10-3 of diamonds (he was one of the blinds).  Of course I realized he most likely isn’t in the hand if I had done the right thing and raised preflop.  Ugh.

The very next hand I had pocket Queens.  Lesson learned, I raised to $18 because there was a $6 straddle (the game is 2/3, so the under-the-gun straddle is $6).  Actually, I’m never quite sure how to adjust my opening raise when there is a straddle.  Do I just add the amount of the straddle to my bet, or make another adjustment?  In other words, if I would have normally opened the pot to $12 there (as I would have), should I just make it $15 for the three extra bucks of the straddle?  Or do I go four times the straddle amount of $6, since that is effectively the big blind amount on this hand?  I ended up betting three times what a call would have been.  I never have figured out what the right amount is.  Suggestions?

Anyway, there was a caller and then one of the blinds made it $55.  Ugh.  It folded back to me.  This guy had folded preflop the last hand—the only hand I’d ever played with him.  I sure didn’t like the idea of folding my Queens.  But four-betting with them seemed too dangerous with a guy I didn’t know. My default read is that a 1/2, 1/3, 2/3 player is only three-betting with AA or KK (maybe, just maybe Ace-King).  I had bought in for $300 as usual and he had me covered.  I called hoping for a Queen-high flop.  The other guy called too.  What do you think of my call there?

The flop was Ace-high and the preflop raiser checked.  Hmm…..I narrowed his range down to pocket Kings and that the Ace had scared him.  Yeah, he could be slow-playing a set of Aces, but I thought that unlikely. I checked as did the other guy. Against a player I was more familiar with, I might have considered betting when he checked, hoping that the Ace scared him enough to fold his Kings, if that’s what he had.  But I didn’t know this guy. I saw paint come out on the turn and for a nano-second I thought it was a Queen, but no, it was a Jack.  This time the preflop raiser put out $65 and I folded, sure I was losing to his Kings.  The other guy called.  The river was another Ace and they both checked.  The caller said something about having a Jack (really?) but didn’t show before the preflop raiser showed two Kings.  Well, at least my hand reading skills were good on that hand.

Very soon after that, I had Ace-Queen of clubs.  I sure couldn’t complain about being card dead.  I’ve had four-hour sessions where I didn’t get three hands as good as QQ, AKs, AQs.  I opened to $12 and merely had four callers.  The flop was Jack-high with two clubs.  I wouldn’t normally c-bet there with four other players in the hand, but having the nut-flush draw, I felt it was the right thing to do.  Agree or disagree?

I put out $35.  The guy to my immediate left called.  He was short stacked and didn’t have much left, maybe another $40-$50.  It probably didn’t make any sense for him to call instead of shoving, but whatever.  The next guy thought for a bit and then shoved.  I had him covered too, and it looked like his stack was in the $100 vicinity.  It folded to me.  I asked for a count.  While the dealer was counting, the guy to my left put the rest of his chips out, acting out of turn.  Interestingly, the dealer didn’t admonish him for doing that.  Anyway, it was $61 more to me.  It seemed like the right odds, so I called.

No one showed.  I sure liked the turn card, it was the King of clubs.  The river card was not as nice.  It was a 6 that paired the board.  I was first to show, and the shortest stack instantly mucked when he saw my hand.  The other guy, the one who had shoved his $100-ish stack, initially groaned when he saw my hand.  It was like “Ugh….a flush…..oh wait, I have a boat.”  He missed that the board had paired.  So the set of Jacks he’d flopped was now a full house.  And he took down all the chips.

I’d been there less than two orbits and had about $100 left out of my $300 buy-in.  Sort of the exact reverse of the session the week before.  Not at all the way I had hoped things would go.  I was a bit demoralized.

I think two things made that hand affect my mental state harder than it otherwise would have.  There were two "teases" there. I mean the turn gave me the nuts, if only for a few seconds. So to think I'd won a big pot only to have the rug pulled out from under me made it worse for me. Yes, when I got it in I was behind. I knew that but I also had a lot of equity. I think I would have been less upset if the flush never came and I had just whiffed. This was much crueler. I understand “that’s poker" and it happens all the time, but that doesn't mean it doesn't suck.

And then it didn't help that guy basically said he had lost before he noticed the paired board. It wasn't a slowroll, I'm sure he just didn't see the paired 6. But I was looking for a pair as the only thing that could beat me and inwardly cursed when I saw it. So when he initially reacted like he lost, I got another bit of false joy before it went south.

I dwelled on it a few hands. It was then I made a critical decision.  Now typically at that point, I would add on some chips, because $100 is a short stack in a 2/3 game.  But sometimes I play on a bit to see how it goes.  Sometimes I decide to just work the short stack for awhile and see if the runbad continues.  This had all happened so fast.  And as I said, I was far from card dead.  But getting the second best hand in poker is a lot worse than being card dead.

When the button got to me, I decided to go ahead and buy $100 more chips.  It was just too soon to throw in the towel.  Boy was I glad I did.  Of course, you could argue that I should have bought $200 more to bring my stack back to the original $300 I started with.  But just another $100 in play with the way I started out seemed like enough for me.

A hand or two later I limped in with pocket 8’s and then called $17.  It was five of us seeing the flop.  It came 10-8-5, rainbow.  The preflop raiser (one of the blinds) checked but before it got to me another guy bet $20.  He had a big stack, the biggest at the table.  I thought about it for a bit and then decided to just call. The flop looked rather dry.  And that small bet felt like he just had a tiny piece of the flop and was less likely to call a raise. The preflop raiser also called, the others went away.

The turn was another 10.  Cool, this time I had the boat.  The same guy, the big stack bet again, this time $25.  OK, that was too small a bet. I decided to raise and see if I could get more value for my boat.  I made it $70.  The other guy folded.  Big stack thought for a bit and then announced “all-in.”  He didn’t have a bigger boat than I did, did he?  Of course, I’m never folding there.  I announced call, and the dealer put out a blank and then we showed our hands. 

He said, “I have a 10.”  Meanwhile the dealer said, “full house” and for a second I thought he was referring to the big stack.  His other card was like a 4—was there a 4 on the board?  Nope, the full house he was referring to was mine.  All he had was trip 10’s with a very crappy kicker.  The dealer collected ~$200 from him.  When I finished stacking, I had about $445 in front of me.  In one hand, I had gone from down $200 to up well over $100.  That’s no limit hold’em for you.  And I was real glad I’d added on that $100 when I did, that’s for sure.

And then….really just a few hands later…I had Ace-3 of hearts.  By the time I entered this hand in my notes, I had forgotten how the hand started.  I might have limped in, I might have been one of the blinds.  I was in early position for sure.  I don’t think there was a preflop raise, but there might have been.  Sorry.  All I know for sure is that there were 3 or 4 of us seeing a flop that had two hearts on it.  A guy led out for $20 and I called, it was three-way now.  The turn was a brick and he bet $35 and I called, it was now heads up.  The river was a heart, giving me the stone-cold nuts.  No pair on the board.  A straight was possible, a low straight, but since the highest heart on the board was a Jack, no straight flush was possible.

The guy had bet two streets and I thought about checking to see if he would bet so I could check-raise.  But I figured the heart had to be a scare card for him.  Whatever he had, he might just be content to check behind.  I didn’t really think a straight was very likely as it would have been a gutshot on the river.  I didn’t know if he even had anything.  The guy had a big stack but not quite as big as mine after that big pot I’d just won with the boat.

Thus, I figured I better bet something.  But what would he call?  The pot was at least $140-$145, so I bet $60 and just prayed he’d make the crying call with his top pair or two pair or whatever.

He tanked for a bit, counted out the chips.  I still thought he’d likely fold.  But then, after counting out the $60, he said something beautiful.  He said, “Make it $160.”

I double checked the board to make sure I wasn’t missing something.  Nope, I had still had the absolute nuts.  So I said, “all-in.”

He tanked a bit, but not that much.  And then he said, “Call.”  How sweet is that?

I showed my hand.  And he showed his, it was Queen-8 of hearts.  The dealer counted our chips and confirmed I had him covered and thus all his chips were pushed to me.

Meanwhile. The player next to him said, “Nothing you could do.” (???) I assume he was just trying to encourage him to stay in the game.  Nothing he could do?  Well let’s see.  My line screams of a flush.  He didn’t even have the second nut flush, it was the third nuts.  How about just calling my $60 bet, a crying call at that?  Would have saved him a lot of money.

Does he really think I’m betting there with less than a flush, or a flush worse than his Queen-high?

Not to complain, mind you.  I was very happy to take his money.

And then take a picture of my new stack of over $800. 

I didn’t consider taking off with my nice profit just then, at least not right away.  But suddenly the poker gods remembered it was me and that I’m supposed to get garbage hands.  And thus I went totally card dead. 

Side note:  you could argue of course that the Ace-3 suited that led to my biggest win of the session isn’t exactly a premium hand, and you’d be correct.  Perhaps my card-deadedness started there?  But as per Ed Miller, I do play suited hands a lot, especially suited Aces.  One of the reasons Miller recommends them is that although being suited only increases a starting hand’s value by a percent or two, when you hit that flush, you can often win a big pot.  Thanks, Ed.

I went several orbits without playing a hand.  The table emptied out a bit and most of the players left were on the nitty side.  The two worst players at the table, who were, not coincidentally, the two players who had given me that big stack I had, were now short stacked.  The Queen-hi flush guy had only re-bought for $100 and never got over that amount.  The guy with three 10’s lost the rest of his big stack to various players and was struggling to stay in the game.  Glad I got to him first. 

Then two of the empty seats were taken by a husband and a wife, two regs I recognized.  The husband is probably the regular in this room I consider the toughest player I’ve faced there.  Real solid, somewhat loose aggressive, puts a lot of pressure on you.  Hard to read.  His wife plays a similar style, though tighter.  I realized they were going to have the next biggest stacks after mine and it would be hard to get chips from them.

I mean, generally, you get your money at poker from the weaker players, right?  These are not weaker players.  So when I realized the game had just gotten a lot tougher, and I still had a $400 profit from the bad players, I decided to call it a day.  I suppose I could have found another table, but booking back-to-back big wins was sounding real good.

I ended up cashing out almost the same amount of chips as last time, although I was in for $100 more so not quite as profitable (a $400 win).  Still, considering I was down $200 within just a few minutes of getting there, it kind of felt like an even better win than the week before.

"What's Important is That We Had This Quality Time Together"

As I discussed in the post here, I played in a bunch of tournaments In Vegas this last time.  And that post explains why I played the tournaments I did.

The first one I entered was the Planet Hollywood 7PM, for $100, my first Monday in town.  I’d been in Vegas a few days but had stuck to cash games up until then.  The tournament was called the “Value Deepstack” and it had a $10K starting stack and 30-minute levels.

This was part of their big summer series, Goliath, and it was held on the hotel’s mezzanine.  It’s a pretty decent place to play, although the lighting could be a bit better and the proximity to the restrooms isn’t great. 

Soon after the tournament started, I was reminded of one the advantages of cash games over tournaments that you don’t usually think about—the ability to ask for a table change.  And I don’t mean because the players were too good or too nitty.  There were two players at my table sitting near me that I would have preferred be playing in a tournament in another casino,  Preferably in another city.

One was a distinguished looking older gentleman, nice enough fellow.  But he could not stop coughing.  He had a high collared shirt, and he was constantly pulling the front of it to cover his mouth to cough.  Aside from that being extremely annoying, I was concerned that I might catch whatever terrible disease he had.

But what I really feared was that I might catch the disease the other player had.  This guy was a young fellow who sounded like he was from England.  And there was something odd about his eyes, or at least one of them.  It was quite red, and it looked to me like he had pinkeye. Great.  He was sitting one seat away from me, and with him touching the cards and the chips…well you get the idea. 

That said, I’m relieved to report I didn’t come down with either a respiratory condition or conjunctivitis after the tournament.

As it turned out, I didn’t play with those two guys all that long.  In the middle of the third level, I was about to be the big blind when someone came by and moved me to another table.  It turned out I was moved to a new table they were starting.  It was a mix of a few other players who moved from existing tables and some players who had just bought in (or were alternates).  The problem was that it took quite a few minutes for enough players to show up for the dealer to begin dealing.  I’d say I went nearly 10-minutes of this level without being dealt a hand.  It was a bit frustrating, since time is so important in a tournament.  I guess it can’t be helped, and it was just luck of the draw, but still annoying.

And speaking of annoying, I should mention the issue with the chips we were using.  I’ve seen this before and I saw it again the very next night (different location), but two denominations of the chipset we were using were almost indistinguishable from each other. The $100 chips were black (or gray, or maybe black that had faded to gray), and the $500 chips were dark purple.  From any kind of distance, they pretty much looked the same.  Even right in front of me, I noticed I had stacked them wrong a few times, mistaking one for the other.  It wasn’t that big a deal I suppose, you just had to be real careful to check what the bet was.  I know I asked every single time whenever one (or, shudder, both) were bet.

And while still on the subject of annoying, the last player to join our newly assembled table made me wish I was back at my original table with The Hacker and Pinkeye (hmm, that sounds like a great name for a buddy cop movie).  Let’s call this player Roy.  Roy was a youngish Asian fellow.  I didn’t have to even look at him to know he was Asian.  He told us.  Repeatedly.

Seriously, Roy told us he was Asian about every 15 seconds.  No matter what the subject, he somehow found a way to mention his Asian heritage.  Or he’d just bring it up out of the blue, as in, “I’m definitely the cutest Asian at this table.”  Needless to say, he was the only Asian at the table.

He made a lot of jokes.  Or at least attempts at jokes.  By the next morning, I couldn’t remember most of them, which is lucky for you because otherwise I might be tempted to repeat them here.

When another player tried to top his jokes with better ones (which weren’t really better), Roy called the guy a “dickfore.”

The guy asked, “What’s a dick for….”  Ooops.

When he first arrived at the table, as the dealer was finally getting ready to deal us our first hand, he announced, “I want you to know….I hope you won’t hate me for this, but I hope you all lose and I win. I’m sorry. I hope you can deal with that.”

Then he added, “But what’s really important about tonight is that we all have this quality time to spend together.”

That was actually amusing and it got a bit of a laugh and he repeated that line quite a few times.  And other people started repeating it.

His other bit of schtick was to fold by sending one card at a time back to the dealer.  And then he’d say, “Oh look, a string fold.”

Roy came to the table with a bag full of Chinese take-out and proceeded to eat it while playing.  To be fair to Roy, he did offer to share.  It was annoying for me because I just didn’t like the smell of it, and it was right next to me.

There were two things that Roy did incessantly.  Talk and raise.  If he wasn’t talking, he was raising.  If he wasn’t raising, he was talking.  Oh yes, just for good measure, there were plenty of times when he talked and raised simultaneously.

If you want to know what Roy looks like, just look up “Crazian” in the Urban Dictionary.

After we had been playing together for awhile, Roy turned to me and said, “I know you.  I’ve played with you before.  A lot. Like 40 times.”  There was a pause, I tried to rack my brain, but came up empty.  Then he added, “Do you play a MGM?  I used to live here, used to play at MGM like four nights a week.”  I acknowledged that if he recognized me that was likely where he saw me. 

I still didn’t recognize him.  So I said to him, “Funny….you’d think I’d remember a guy as quiet as you.”  He replied that he isn’t usually this talkative.  I found that hard to believe.

Roy was impressed with one of the cocktail waitresses.  I should explain how they were doing cocktail service.  They had two waitresses working as a team, using a pretty large cart to serve the drinks.  I guess there was no bar on the mezzanine so after taking orders from everyone in the room, they’d go downstairs to the bar, fill that large cart with the drinks and take the elevator upstairs. 

I believe the two girls handled the entire room.  There were at least four tournaments going on at once—an 11AM event, a 4PM event, and at least one or two that had started on previous days.  So they had a lot of ground to cover. Service was a bit slow but considering the territory they had it was actually pretty good.

Unlike some rooms that bring in servers who don’t wear the casino’s traditional outfits, the girls were wearing standard PH cocktail waitress attire: Partially open blouse (that usually shows off a bit of bra in addition to the cleavage) and tight short-shorts.  It’s pretty sexy.

One of the two girls was reasonably cute as you would expect.  But the other girl…well, she was a bit unusual.  Now, as my readers know, I pretty much never notice a woman’s breasts.  But in this case, I just couldn’t help noticing this gal’s mammary glands.  Hell, Stevie Wonder would have noticed them (note: is that joke too politically incorrect for the age we live in?  If so, I apologize.) Her breasts were beyond huge.  They were beyond gigantic.  Each one deserved its own separate zip-code. I mean, they had to send her to the mezzanine to work because I’m pretty sure her breasts would not fit in the regular poker room.

Well, I had noticed those gazongas her first time through the room.  By now the two gals were on their second pass, and Roy and a couple of the other guys at the table had actually been able to notice something else about the overly-endowed waitress.  Her shorts were really extra tight and extra short.  She was actually revealing a whole lotta butt-cheek.  And in fact, it was a damn nice view at that.  Truth be told, because her breasts were actually way too big for their own good, the view from behind was a lot more enjoyable.  It was pretty clear that Roy had totally fallen in love with her derriere. 

Anyway, when she came around to take orders, Roy added something to his order.  “I’ll have a water, a Jack & Coke….and a hug.”  Everyone laughed, including the waitress. But a couple of the other guys also added “and a hug” to the end of their order. 

I was pretty sure she wasn’t going to give anyone a hug.  But when she came back and gave Roy his drink, he stood up, said something like, “and a hug, right?”  And indeed he hugged the busty waitress.  One or two of the other guys got hugs from her too.  I hope they tipped well for the extra service. 

There are only a few hands worth discussing.  When I moved to the new table, I had pretty much my starting stack.  Sitting on Roy’s left made it hard to do much unless I actually had a decent hand since he raised so damn often. 

I did open the pot once with the dreaded pocket Kings and didn’t get a call.

Then, after Roy made a standard opening raise, I three-bet him with Ace-King.  It was my first three-bet of the night and the second time I’d raised at this table.  Nevertheless, Roy complained, “You always do that to me.”  I pointed out that he was full of crap (politely, of course).  Then he gave me a little speech.  “Oh man, my hand is so bad, you’re gonna be real mad if I hit it.”  And he called.  We were heads up.  I totally whiffed on the flop, but I c-bet and Roy folded.

By level 5, with the blinds at 25/150/300 I had about $13K.  And so once again, I looked down at pocket Kings.  As he did almost always, Roy raised.  Of course I three-bet.  Sorry, I didn’t note the amounts, but Roy put out a normal raise and I bet more-or-less three times his bet.

It folded back to Roy who went into full Hollywood mode.  He stared at my stack, he stared at his stack.  (I had him covered by about $6K).  He bitched and moaned.  He made it sound like he was in total agony, not knowing what to do.  “Oh man I don’t know….I don’t know….should I gamble?  Should I gamble?”  He tanked for a long, long time and then finally said, “Well, I’m gonna gamble.  All-in.”

No matter how much I might have read his Hollywooding as him trying to entice me into calling, there’s just no way I’m folding my Kings there.  Not against him.  Not against the all-time Crazian.  I certainly thought he could do that with AK, or QQ, or JJ.  He might realize my three-betting range against him is wider than usual, and maybe he gets me to fold a pretty big hand.  Re-entry was still open and he might very well have been willing to bust and re-buy. 

So the question is….do you ever fold pocket Kings preflop?  Do you ever do it against this kind of a maniac (Hollywooding or not)?

I would make that call in that situation 100 out of 100 times.

So I called and of course he flipped over two Aces.  Second time this trip I ran my dreaded hand into pocket rockets (see here for the first time).

I picked up a flush draw on the turn but missed. 

Although I guess I understand his little acting job, I was really pissed at him at the time.  It felt like a slow-roll to me.  And we were friends!  I mean, we’d played together at MGM at least 40 times, right?

Now short-stacked, under $6K, I was in bad shape.  Especially since before it got to me Roy would raise almost every time.  I had to wait for some kind of hand to make my one move.  I was never going to get the luxury of opening a pot when it folded to me.

I didn’t play a hand the rest of the level.  The next level the blinds were 50/200/400 and I needed some kind of hand to shove with.  Finally, in late position, Roy open limped.  I was shocked that he just limped.  I looked down at King-9 of hearts.  In my position, it was a monster.  So I shoved.  It folded back to Roy who tanked and asked for a count of my chips and made another speech.  He stared at me, and then said, “Well, since you’re my friend, I’ll give you action.” Gee thanks, “friend.”  When I flipped over my hand he said, “Oh, you got me crushed.”  He tabled King-4 of spades.

No, he didn’t beat me with a flush. The flop was Ace-5-3.  And he caught a 2 on the turn to complete a straight.  And I was out.

I’d played about three hours or so and by the time I was out, they were up to around 100 players.  And my poker evening was over.

You know….I ended up thinking that time we had together wasn’t really very important.

Buck Naked's Excellent Desert Adventure (Guest Post)

When last we left Buck Naked, he and his pals were leaving one of Pahrump’s finest establishments (a brothel).  See here for the details of that.  Buck picks up the story…..

During our trip to Pahrump we did, in fact, experience fireworks, but not the kind Ms. Chang referred to (note: Alysia Chang left a comment that perhaps Buck and his pals only went to Pahrump to buy fireworks, which are illegal in Vegas but available in Pahrump). After sharing laughs and drinks at the sports bar at the brothel, we walked out grinning ear to ear.

The bragging started almost immediately as we pulled out of the parking lot; mostly about services rendered versus $ spent. We all shared our individual experiences, while laughing our asses off.

Once again, we saw several more jack rabbits while making our way to the main highway back to Vegas. It was way past midnight, and as our young driver turned onto the highway headed east, he abused the gas pedal.  We had a tourney to play in about 6 hours.

I do not want to divulge our speed, but we were hauling ass.  After we passed the mountain areas, we came to a long stretch of straight, flat terrain.  We were cruising along nicely, when suddenly out of nowhere, a coyote appeared right in front of our vehicle.   Our young driver slammed on the breaks, but we t-boned the beast.

We were all buckled in and no one was injured, but the coyote was not so lucky.  I really feel that he committed suicide, because he was running full speed across the road, and seemed to freeze right in from of us, only to be bulldozed into oblivion.  We pulled over after the sudden impact, but it was so dark out in the desert we couldn’t see a thing.

As we re-entered the highway, we could hear a definite scraping noise coming from underneath our vehicle. We all thought the worst, that we were dragging a coyote corpse down the road.  After a few miles we saw a light up ahead and pulled into a closed service station that had a well lit gas pump area.

We all jumped out and looked underneath the car, only to find nothing.  We then opened the hood , thinking he may have somehow become lodged in the motor area; nothing again.   So after we made a close inspection walking around the vehicle, we discovered the spoiler under the front bumper had been knocked loose, and was dragging under the front of the car.

We attempted to remove it, with no luck, and limped back to our hotel.  We always valet park, but were too embarrassed by the scraping noise, so we self parked, still laughing on our way to our rooms.

The next morning our young driver went down to the parking garage and kicked the spoiler free, and left it underneath the car.  We didn’t use the vehicle again until we left for the airport 2 days later. I was a bit worried the rental car personnel would discover the part was missing.  I instructed the guys to be silent and let me do the talking when we returned the car.

We filled the gas tank on the way to rental car building and pulled into the return area.  The attendants were checking in other cars as we were getting our luggage out.  We calmly waited and when he came up to our vehicle, he made a quick walk around, checked the gas gauge and mileage, and asked if we had any problems.

I told him we had just filled up, had no problems and everything was fine with the vehicle. As he was checking us out with his hand held machine to print our receipt, an alarm went off.   He looked surprised and made another pass around the vehicle, this time, with a co-worker.  He asked me again if everything was ok, and i assured him that was the case.  When he hit the button to print our receipt, the alarm went off a second time, but the receipt printed out; his co-worker grinned at him, as he looked confused.

I snatched the receipt and off we went without further incident. We laughed again on the shuttle back to the airport, happy with our moment of good luck.  I was still wondering what kind of sensor that machine had to detect something was wrong with the vehicle.  You really wouldn’t have missed the spoiler if you didn’t know it was supposed to be there.  Maybe the machine had a sensor that detected we had slammed on the breaks. I still do not know how it apparently "knew" something was wrong.

After a few days home, i walked out to check my mail, and discovered a letter from the rental car company. I thought " ok here we go,” only to find the official looking letter was a "thank you" note for my recent rental and a survey to fill out regarding my rental experience..  

Naturally, from 1 to 10, i gave them all "10’s" and a glowing review.  LOL.

So now, our group is eagerly awaiting our next trip to Vegas, the adult Disneyland.

Thanks for an incredible story, Buck.  Wonder if they’ll ever figure out there’s a problem with that rental car?