Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Fun and Games

After cashing out of the $2/$5 game, I took a very short cab ride from The Palms to The Bellagio to meet up with the great Dr. Pauly.  He was busy covering the WPT event there, but said he would have some free time tonight to donk around with yours truly.  It was still relatively early, so if Pauly couldn’t escape his coverage obligations, I would have been content to play some more poker at the Bellagio poker room.

Pauly met me outside the poker room and got me inside the Fontana Room where they were holding the WPT event.  It was still day 2 and there were about 60-70 players left.  Pauly pointed out all the pros to me and introduced me to BJ from CardPlayer and to Curtis from SpecialKsPlace.  We excused ourselves for a bit and developed a plan of action outside while watching the fountains erupt.  Sadly, this was the first time I’d seen them in action.  Obviously, I’m not the ideal Vegas tourist.

Our itinerary came together rather quickly.  We would meet Grubby over at the Excalibur poker room and play some $2/$6 spread limit, get appropriately lubricated, then hit up some of Vegas’ finer adult entertainment establishments.  General Patton could not have come up with a better battle plan.

I’ve played at the Ex three times now.  I’ve NEVER come up a winner at the $2/$6 game.  I’ve never even been dealt AA there, hoping to get it cracked so I can spin the wheel.  Grubby did bring up an excellent point on playing AA at these tables, however.  Don’t raise.  Limp.  You WANT them cracked.  They are worth more cracked since you get double value for your wheel spins.  The minimum you can win is $40 and the max is $600.  Screw the pot, take the spin.

I believe I won more at the game on prop bets, picking the correct color of the wheel spins two times in a row.  Ha!  Take that Pauly and Grubby.

Once the three of us had our fill of the donks and donking in general, we were off to Sin.  It was a Wednesday night, and apparently Sin is not the best that Vegas has to offer.  But big deal, I was about to see nekkid boobies for the first time out of my three trips to Vegas.  That shit’s important.  Pauly drove, so we got in for free.  Bonus.  I bought the first round of drinks; but when I realized that the $20 bill I pulled from my wad wasn’t enough to cover it, I was glad I drank a plenty at the Ex.

I couldn’t help compare the talent level to some of the places that G-Vegas has to offer.  Not to sound all snooty, but G-Vegas clubs have more talent.  But that was OK, I was having a rollicking good time with my Vegas hosts, even if drinks were $10 a pop.

We did a bunch of BS’ing with the local talent.  I told one local that Grubby was a former Mr. Southern Xiang-quan-do champion bodybuilder who retired because he was tired of all the posing.  My cover story was that I was a hot-air balloon pilot named Stone Cold Steve.  Yes, I was wearing my Austin jersey that April got me.

At about 4am, I was losing my steam.  I’d been up for over 24 straight hours since I was still on Eastern time.  I’d spent enough cash at Sin and figured there’d be more to do tomorrow.  I told Grubby we’d meet at Aladdin for the 12pm tourney and then we were out.  Pauly drove me back to the Palms and I made my way up to the room.  On the way up, the elevator stopped and two totally amazing chicks hopped in wearing very revealing pajamas.  Apparently, they were on their way to a pajama party.  I said nothing; I could only steal a glance here and there wondering what a 10-year younger me would have done in this situation.  Probably what my current self did, exit on my floor, walk to my room and fall fast asleep.

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