Scary Woman #2

I woke up early for my idiotically early flight, then headed to the Harrahs coffee shop for breakfast. I was seated directly next to a pair of late 20s women who had obviously just come to the breakfast end of an all night session in the casino. One dear child was chattering on a little monologue that went something like this:

“Well, like, it really doesn’t, like’ it’s not that kind of thing. Like, really, like he’s nice, but, like, I’m not, like sure I want to get, like, involved, with like, another guy, like right now. Like Tom, you know Tom, right? Like, he was great, like I met him, like when he was living with Lisa, like, but he was, like finished, like they lived, like, together, like but there wasn’t like, anything, like, there, anymore. I, like hooked up with him, like three or four times, like, when he was still living with her. Like, well, like we had sex, and like it was, like a really good thing, like, but it wasn’t like, vulgar or anything, like, because they were only, like living together, and I wasn’t like some, like brainless babe, like I was 21….”

Vegas can leave you with sometimes with some lasting memories. I fear the memory of that monologue will stay with me like the feeling of a root canal for far too long.

In the end I was of, a couple thousand richer and my luggage well stocked with items to keep us all going in Ecuador. My wife and I will probably come together at the start of July for another stay, although sadly the poker will probably take a back seat next time. But I’m sure Seymour will still find some way to make the adventures memorable.

What to do with a lot of 100 bills?

With evening far advanced I decided to creep out of my room and give the Harrahs poker room one more chance. Bad idea. Seymour’s mojo was gone, I continued to play like an idiot and saw my stack flow away. I finally cashed out what chips remained and decided to get ready for my trip home.

Problem: I was carrying a largish stack of 100s from my winnings and I had to get rid of them. One of the great things about living in Ecuador is it uses the American dollar as its currency, so I didn’t have to worry about exchange, but it is impossible to find places that will take a $100. In fact, even $20 can be hard to use. $1 and $5 is best. So what to do? I decide to give the bill breaker machines down in the Harrahs lobby a try. Mistake. Fat gringo trying to break 100s takes forever, especially when you have almost $3000 of them. Plus the cash in$1s and $5s and $10s and $20s became an inconvenient brick. I felt like I needed two security guards to escort me to my room. Heh, heh.

Scary Lady Number One

My final full day in Las Vegas started with transferring from Excalibur to Harrahs. I had depleted my comps for the MGM properties and had some at Harrahs to use, plus I always like to split my stays and play between the two systems to keep my future options open.

Seymour is out again and we started by heading downstairs to the Harrahs poker room. This was a big difference from our nighttime adventures of Report #3 as this was a complete rock garden. Didn’t get many cards but when we did our opening raises won only the blinds. Three hours later we were down $60 and decided to try new pastures.
Next stop was the Venetian and our negative mojo there continued. The worst part was that I simply played horrible. Played too loose, stayed in with draws when the odds didn’t make sense. Made a couple of ill-timed plays at pots. No real hands stick out; I was just playing like a clueless tourist. I cashed out after two hours down about $200.

Scary Woman

Middle-aged fat guy alone in Vegas is apt to get attention, sometimes from the weird and desperate. For dinner I went to the Buffet at Harrah’s and use up some comps. As I was waiting in line to be seated a middle-aged woman standing next to me started chatting with me and mentioned it was her birthday. At that point the seater came up and asked if we were “two?” To my astonishment the woman said yes. Seeing my surprise she asked if I didn’t mind sitting with her, so I sheepishly said of course not.

Big mistake.

Dinner conversation arranged around how she is trying to get back to Ohio because she had been working at Walmart but was now only part time and her utilities were cutoff and she was going to be evicted in a couple of days and she didn’t know how she would pay for the babysitter for her kid because she was out having her birthday dinner all alone.

At this point I asked where the nearest bathroom was. She pointed it out and asked “Are you coming back?” I say of course. I got up and walked out of the Buffett and hid in my room for two hours.

Seymour Attacks Harrahs

After my Sunday afternoon victory at Mirage I did some mental coin flips and decided to head to Harrah’s for a short session. Two reasons for this: I will be staying at Harrah’s for the last night of my stay and I wanted to check out the room with the new management, as well as all of my play so far had been at MGM properties and I always like to spread out my play.

At 9pm I sat down at a dream 1-2NL table, mostly loose-weak tourists and locals with one Young Drunk Guy (YDG) as table captain. One advisement, Seymour has been getting lots of threats to be kidnapped, barbequed and Haitian Voodoo Hexed so he decided he needed to go incognito until some of the danger subsides, so he went in as Bobby the Booby Bird. As soon as I introduced Seymour/Bobby, YDG yelled to the room “There’s a guy here with good looking Boobies!” My king of table, right from the start. YDG was to my right, perfect situation. He was borderline maniac, making lots of post-flop raise to take down pots with weak holdings.

One thing about this session, I very, very rarely use a straddle of any kind. However Harrah’s allows a button straddle which gives the button even more control in position. Plus with the drunken carnage about me I wanted as much play as possible, so I quickly started straddling every chance I could get, UTG and button.

Within 30 minutes the hand of the night happened:
YDG straddles and I look down at Ad8d so I call just to see what happens. Four callers and YDG raises to $20, I call and one guy in MP calls. Flop is K83 rainbow. YDG bets $40. From what I’d seen before, I doubted YDG had a big hand. The best I could see was either the 3 or 8, or possibly a small PP. This looked like a good time for Seymour/Bobby to get into it, so after discussing the situation in broad terms with “Bobby” we went AI. MP insta-mucked, while YDG went into theatrics.

YDG couldn’t believe I went AI with a hand and I must be on a cold-stone bluff. I replied that I didn’t make these decisions, only “Bobby” did such things. Lengthy discussion went on about “Bobby’s” poker face. YDG had stood up and was almost dancing in agitation. He finally reached down and flipped over his cards to show…

36 offsuit…bottom pair bad kicker.

To guage my reaction, he asked me if I could beat that. I said I couldn’t comment. Only “Da Bird” could comment and he wasn’t talking. “Bobby” then did offer to show top card if YDG paid $10. After some yammering he did, and the A was revealed. YDG was quasi cheered by this, saying that he thought he had five outs, even if we had the K. After several minutes of this, YDG asked the table to call the clock on him, because he couldn’t make a decision. No one at the table would call the clock, because they were having too much fun watching the spectacle of a drunk guy playing against “Da Bird”.

YDG finally called the clock on himself, and as time wound down he folded.

After that, “Da Bird” ruled the table, while YDG watched his stack slip away. The final indignity came when his 75off made 2pr on the river but lost to my KT turned 2 pr. YDG slunk away and the table lost some of its fun. Seymour and I cashed out shortly after and went back to the hotel room for some well-deserved sleep.