TR Snippet - Poker at the Flamingo

Playing at the Flamingo:

Most in party mood at the table were:
• Vanessa from Austin
• a shapely Asian woman visiting her sister and trying not to play too much craps
• Colton who had died his hair blue but for some reason it had drifted into green whose wife had not let him get the beard matching either color
• James in a pony tail who said he had always been prejudiced against folks who dyed their hair but liked Colton. I told him I was always been prejudiced against guys with pony tails, but he perhaps he made the exception. James and I easily hit it off in the humor department.

This was my only real night of poker when I played late with party people, got drunk, and made money. That is the model I want to follow, but to do it I have to play more at the Flamingo and less at places like Sam's Town.

I was my talkative self and folks here to party were ready to spice up the poker with a bit of banter.

For the first time this trip, I bought in for $60 and was never below that number.

My winnings went up and down but never below my buy in.

The Asian woman was a fine player and her winnings just went up. We had great banter about the game and luck and worried if we were in a pot together.

A young fellow from Reno joined the table and told me many of his friends had gone to the my home area to go to college or settle in upstate New York. I have never heard of that migration pattern.

I had a few card protectors in my pocket, brass rings that once enclosed silver strikes, and I had one from Reno, so I just gave it to him.

He treasured that ring and it felt good to gift it.

All the rest of the rings I brought along with me I ended up selling at the El Cortez when other players saw how nicely a Kennedy dollar fit in the ring and what a nice card protector it made.

The original silver strikes made good card protectors, but the plastic cases that protected the collector value put distance between the player and the protector. They were hard to spin for distraction. Also, if left or lost the originals might be an expensive lost item, while these rings were less of an investment.

Anyway this young fellow was pleased with the ring and I was happy I put a few in my pocket to just give away.

A young Asian fellow sat to my right. He did not play particularly well.

He was a useful opponent in my best hand:

My pocket sixes flopped quads. I was in early position. I bet $2 just to insure the $20 was in the pot for the high hand award. I had almost a full table of callers.

Then I just called and slow played until the river.

I had two opponents left after the river card.

The Asian fellow to my right bet and now I raised. Green haired Colton called.

The Asian fellow to my right re-raised.

It was unnerving because he was unsure of how to do that, and I was not certain that he would actually manage it.

The dealer helped him and he made the bet.

I reraised, and both players called.

It was a huge pot and the added $50 Bonus sweetened it more.

The Asian fellow was surprised and a bit disappointed, but he was not angry. No one seemed angry.

I liked it that there was no throwing of cards or underbreath cursing.

I guess some players think that if they get mad enough at randomness, it will give them the better cards to avoid hearing all that temper again.

I don't think that happens.

I also don't think randomness puts them in the corner for a time out either.

And that is a shame.

For me this was my best night, one with good cards, lots of drinking, and plenty of table banter that was not about the cards or poker.

I tried a Caesar's (bloody Mary with Clamato) only I had my second one with tequilla. Great drink!

Then Colton ordered a B52. So I talked "Texas" (Vanessa smiled and said, "I love it when you call me Texas," and I told her that was the best news I had heard all day, and I'd put it in the blog.)

I liked the B-52, but Vanessa did not. So there was more banter. Vanessa loved to banter with a sweet and delicate smile.

She was a a pretty long and long haired woman, with a plain and wholesome look and attitude and she knew how to entertain an old guy.

Around midnight all the joking women were replaced with serious poker playing men, and I called it a night. The fellows ask me where I am going and I told them I wanted to catch the steak special at Ellis Island.

They thought it was some place in NYNY.

"Can you walk there?" they asked.

I explained where it was and wondered if I should be cashing out.

I do walk there.

Wonderful night air, and I have $100 new dollars to offset my losses, enough alcohol to make me smile, good memories.

The steak is fine except they can't seem to leave the gravy off my mashed potatoes and just let me use au jus. The garlic beans are in tip top shape, full of fresh garlic and not overcooked like they were my last visit.

The Karaoke is awful, but remember I have plenty of alcohol in me, and I enjoy watching this quiet, older, African woman mouthing the words at the next table.

I missed the free shuttle back to the Rio, so I caught the 202. The 24 hour pass I bought also served me when I went to rent the car at the airport in the morning for the trip to Red Rock Canyon.