An Ex-Pat Aussie's Poker Odyssey. Alcohol Added. Hilarity Ensues.
Friday, December 15, 2006
2006 WPBT Winter Classic Trip Report Part 3: Seven Out!
Monday 7am: I wake up, sort of, in my bed at the IP. I note that I have taken my shirt off, but I am still wearing my pants. I have no idea what time I collapsed the night before, so I am unsure as to how long I have slept. One thing I am sure of: I feel like I have been hit by a train. Of course, now I am awake (sort of), the question is: get up? Or go back to sleep.
Monday 7:30am: Dumb question. I discover in my pants pocket that I have some checks in there. Some of them are even black. Apparently Drunkie Garth can play craps OK. I decide that I will grab something to eat and see how I feel. If I feel good I will check out, then play for a couple of hours before heading to the airport. I decide that if I am going to be playing more games than I need to bust out the "AUSTRALIA" shirt again, despite the fact I have just worn it during a 24 hour alcoholic bender. Ewwwww.
In the elevator down I am joined by two older gentleman in business pants and shirts, heading to the convention or whatever they are here. One of them looks at me and says: "I remember you, you were playing craps last night." I nod, a little surprised. The man continues with a knowing smile, "Lose all your money?" I shake my head, with a grin. "Actually, I just found some black checks in my pocket." Face.
Monday 7:45am: I am served breakfast at the IP's Teahouse. By my calculations it is approximately 45 hours since my last meal. I am unable to finish the omelette and corned beef hash, though I enjoy a couple of cups of coffee.
Monday 8:15am: I put on the Disco glasses, and approach the same craps table I played at when I was last upright. The same craps crew is running the table, including the Pit Boss who immediately shouts at me "Just throw me your damn card, Garth!" Always one to obey in such matters, I toss my IP player's card onto the felt, quickly followed by a Benjamin.
I note from the stacks on the felt around me that the shooter must be having a monster roll. I put some chips down, but shortly after that the roll is done. The shooter takes his winnings and moves off, and I settle in his place next to a guy playing a monster roll of $25 chips. I notice him playing the Don't Come line repeatedly.
I realise that my palms are sweating. And are not stopping.
I overhear one of the guys on the other side of the table pointing me out to his friend. "See that guy in the 'Australia' shirt? He was playing last night. I'm not sure what happened to him, I guess they cut him off." I consider informing him that though I am wearing the Disco glasses they do not impede my ability to hear.
I settle into a rhythm, using the same betting patterns I can recall using from the night before. My life is made easier as the next shooter also rolls for a really long time. A short older Asian woman squeezes in on my right, and asks me how the table is. "Good," is my only response.
The table waitress, Angela, arrives to take orders. She is gorgeous. I am a little gobsmacked that the prettiest waitress I can remember seeing at the IP is working on a Monday morning. She asks me if I want anything. I briefly consider getting something with alcohol in it, but decide that discretion is the better part of valour. "A coffee of and a water, please." "Nothing in the coffee?" Dialled into alcohol, I think of Bailey's or whiskey. "No, just cream and sugar," I reply. At her amused smile I realise that I am a moron, but decide to instead hope she thinks I am a comedic genius. "I'll get that for you sir," Angela says as she scribbles on her pad, "a coffee with nothing but cream and sugar, plus a water."
The table continues to be good, and the Asian lady starts betting a little. I hit a few numbers, press my numbers, and hit again. The Asian lady congratulates me on my craps skillz.
The Asian lady and I are joined by a woman decked out in ESPN gear and wearing a fanny pack. She seems nice enough, but I begin wondering if this woman has a hotel room. Something tells me she lives out of the pack. On the other hand, I can't judge. My hands are still sweating.
I am mowing through these "coffees with nothing but cream and sugar", which I insist on ordering from Angela in the same fashion. I also tell her that she is the wind beneath my wings. She takes this news in stride.
Monday 9:30am: I am watching the dice closely, and hear a "Garth!" from behind me. I turn around and find Spaceman and Mrs Spaceman, both with bags in tow, clearly heading out. I am clearly wearing the same clothes as the last time we met, but they seem to take it in stride. We shake hands (Mrs Spaceman thankfully not recoiling in fear), and Spaceman points to my chips and says "Have fun!". "I always do," I reply. They wave and are on their way.
Monday 9:40am: I have been on this table for almost an hour, and still haven't had a roll. The dice are coming our way, however, and the little Asian woman asks if I could just move over a bit, to give her some room. I agree, though I am a little interested why she needs the room.
All things are made clear, as the Asian woman has one of the strangest dice throwing motions I have ever seen. She picks up the dice in her right hand and then sort of launches herself at the table, both arms outstretched, as if she was jumping through a window.
Monday 9:50am: I finally get a roll, though it is nondescript. With that roll one orbit of the table has been completed in the hour and a half since I have been at the table.
Monday 9:55am: The small Asian lady informs me that if I were running for public office, I would have her vote. I thank her for her support.
Monday 10:00am: The next roll ends, and I decide it would be prudent to leave the table, find my bags, and head to the airport. I place my nice stack of green chips on the table, and get coloured up. I thank my table mates for the time and the fun (and the money), and head for the cashier.
Monday 12:05pm: I am in the air, and leaving Vegas behind. My palms are still sweating.
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