One
of the things I love about Vegas is that although I go solo, I
generally meetup with people there. This trip my son had a birthday
party, so it was in part a family reunion. And I met up with nieces
and nephews who live in Vegas, but I don't always see on my visits.
My
son turned 40 and invited folks to come and celebrate. His wife
hosted a party at Aria in a Spanish tapas restaurant.
All
five of my boys came and assorted other family and friends. I was
able to meet up with many of Keith's friends and his wife's family
and friends who I often hear about but have never met.
http://vegasbirthdaybash.blogspot.com/2015/10/tr-snippet-julian-serano-at-aria.html?zx=bc875d37e05a9358
My
meeting with nieces and nephews included a fine buffet at Palace
Station, a home cooked meal of grilled steak and salmon, a visit to
the Clark County Museum, and a nice lunch. Instrumental in making
this happen was my new (first) smart phone and texting for the first
time.
I
met with Steve Bourie who creates the American Casino Guide, his son
Matt, and John Grochowski, a very famous gambling writer from the
Chicago area who I have been reading for years. He writes often in
various periodicals and newspapers and he has published some books.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Grochowski
http://grochowski.casinocitytimes.com/
All these fellows are smart and informed on the latest in gambling issues and innovations. There was plenty of discussion of the new skill based slot movement and speculation as to how the game makers would arrange the paybacks so as to keep unskilled players but not give away too much to the skilled.
But
strangers too offer an endless supply of stories and perspectives.
In Vegas folks may come from any part of the world.
This
trip the stories were not as unique or unusual, but for a fellow who
generally isolates himself in his house and related primarily on
social media, they were a treat.
There
was a fellow at the Plaza poker tournament in a motorized scooter who
had driven truck for a living. He was living in Niagara Falls NY and
just decided to go to Hawaii. He sold his house for a dollar to a
homeless friend and started out driving to the West Coast. When he
got to Vegas, he liked it so much that he just stayed. Odd to set
out for beaches and settle on desert.
There
was a very pretty and personable young Latina mother with her husband
and very young baby in the Gold Coast pool. She had such a charming
way about her that it was enough for me to watch her face, regardless
of what she was saying. She came from California.
At
the Gold Coast pool were some older women talking and eventually I
got into conversation with each of them. One was a serious shuffle
board player and had been in major competitions. I did not know it
was such an organized sport. I've been fascinated with shuffle board
since I was a kid, but although I am in Florida for much of the
winter, I don't have a spot to play there.
The
same woman played a good bit of bridge on the computer and suggested
some sites to my wife.
In
that group was a woman who might have been annoying if she were not
so amusing. She played a good bit of video poker and ranted against
Bob Dancer, although she never really explained why. She played in
many of the local casinos, mostly playing a Triple Bonus game. She
did not seem to pay much attention to pay tables and she paid no
attention to learning the nuances of strategy. She talked of being
invited to tournaments, but my question as to how she changed her
strategy for tournament play fell on deaf ears.
At
the Onyx Theater there was a high school boy dressed as a pirate who
had made the rounds of the doughnut places that offered a free dozen
for folks who dressed the part of a pirate. It was an interesting
promotion. He knew a friend who had picked up six dozen that day.
He
was waiting for a girl in the play and I thought it was an actress,
but he was shocked that I would think these older women could be with
him. She worked as a stage hand. I am so old now I can't tell a
high school student from a 20 something actress.
At
the Golden Nugget poker table I met quite a few of folks I've played
with before. Emilio and Jeffrey used to play at the El Cortez.
Jeffrey
is a young Black man who is generally easy going. He told us his
friends call him “little George” because he looks like George
Foreman.
I
got into one bit of tension with him when he complained and moaned
about one particular dealer, a fine young woman, and blamed her for
his bad luck. She was tolerant. He comes every day. I was annoyed
with it and called the idea that the dealer controls the cards,
“Superstitious crap” and he got ticked off.
Somehow
he decided I was “rich” and that was his rebuttal. I don't quite
follow the logic nor do I understand how he could imagine an actual
“rich” person playing 2-4 at the Golden Nugget rather than a
higher stakes limit game, at least 4-8 at the Venetian.
But
we did fine in the games after that and his irritation as well as my
distain were short lived.
Emilio
is an old fellow who can be an irritating grump. He takes offense
easily. He is a good player and hard to beat. He successfully check
raised me on his quad 5's. However, he loves to tell stories of his
past, most of them to illustrate how smart of fluent in German he is.
Sometimes he loses his audience as the stories are long and
interfere with the game.
He
can also offer insult.
As
I left my last session, Jeffrey was joking that I was taking all his
money. This was true. I had doubled up in an hour. It seemed I
could not lose except to Emilio's check raised quads.
I
joked back that I would be using his money the next day in New York
for my home game.
Emilio
glanced at me and then said to the players around him.
“Do
you know the best thing about living in New York?”
pause
“Being
able to get on a bus and go to Boston.”
He
did not chuckle. It was insult, not tease.
I
told the table that I did not live in New York City, but near Albany,
the Capitol of the state and that in fact I lived in the country on a
little lake.
Emilio
did not reply.
Jeffrey
did however, announcing to the table that I was “rich.”
I
laughed and said that Jeffrey seemed to have gotten that impression.
Cute
little Bridge (short of Bridgette I assume) said,
“He
must have access to your bank records”
I
also played with a very attractive woman in her 40's from Hawaii. She
was a good player. She was fairly quiet, but on some occasions when
there was teasing, she slapped me on the shoulder and laughed. I
liked her.
At
that table too were some obnoxious players. A drunken kid sat next
to me and insisted on asking me questions about the game. I kept
directing him to the dealer. He took some offense.
Cranking
him up was another youngster who talked constantly. I think he was a
drug dealer. He took the drunk kid out one time and I suspect they
added something more potent to the alcohol.
He
kept talking about the hands and telling the kid when to bet and when
to raise. I asked for that to stop. For a while I thought it all my
be an act to cover collusion, but it turned out it wasn't.
The
dealer finally had enough and had the guy sent out of the poker room,
but a while later they let him back in. I left then. I'd had enough
of him.
There
was another loud mouth from Ontario who at first I liked and then
found annoying. He would pretend he was playing his card blind, but
actually would have sneaked a peek and knew what he had. He would
seem to be a loose drunk, but he played a good game, a rare
aggressive style that dominated the table by betting and raising into
perceived weakness. I stayed away from his table the next night.
I
liked some of his earlier talk about Seneca Niagara and their games,
but after a while he was just annoying.
I
liked all the dealers but Tim seemed the easiest. He remembered me
from game to game.
I
very much liked Donald from Texas. He was a very good, tight player
and walked away from the table with money every session. I did not
like to be in a hand with him, except that I could generally put him
on what he was playing and that usually meant I folded.
He
missed a few teeth in the front and wore a great old straw hat that
he said he had worn for many years. He was quiet mostly, and we
talked about poker when we talked at all, but he had a fine, gentle
personality and I thought if he lived in my neighborhood, we would be
friends.
I
seemed to meet lots of folks from Texas, but none knew about Kat
Edmondson, the singer from Austin who I just love and will see here in
town this month.
At
the Orleans poker table I met a fellow who ran boxing gyms. He had
fought too and his nose showed it. He would start to tell me a story
and then lose the thread of it. He apologized. “Occupational
hazard” he said. He had done some sort of training in the Albany
Armory. I liked him.
At
that table were two Asian regulars I did not like. I check raised
the woman with a full house when she had the Ace high flush and she
raised me back. It was a good sized pot. She could not believe that
she had lost. She got angry, picked up the rest of her chips and
went to sit behind her husband who proceeded to get testy.
I flopped trip sevens in early position with two in my hand and two diamonds on the board.
I checked.
The turn came another diamond and Asian guy's wife caught the Ace high flush and bet. I called. The river paired the board with a second 10.
I check raised my opponent and she reraised me my last $5.
It was such a surprise to her that she could lose that hand. She was mad. She quit and went over to sit behind her husband.
I engaged an older good natured fellow who looked Cuban to me and we talked about a few things, none of them poker.
Three hands went by that I folded.
The Asians were still steaming mad and Asian guy could not let it rest. He stared at me and said, “You Win!” I was confused and asked, “What?”
“Are you deaf,” he barbed. “I said, “You win!”
“I have not played the last three hands,” I said, “ And while I may be a little deaf, at least I am not rude.”
And so the exchanges started until the dealer said, “Enough,” and the Cuban fellow lectured the table on taking good care of the tourists because they fund the city.
I assured him that I was not offended.
I might have said, since it was the verb tense of the attack that had confused me, “I also am not inarticulate; I can speak English in more than just the present tense.” or, “You can't really expect success at this game if you reraise on fifth best hand or are surprised that a paired board might give your opponent a boat. “
It had been a large pot and part of a half kill so it was a 3-6 hand.
And still I left that table down money.Perhaps
the most interesting stranger I met was Seigfried, the philosopher at
the Eastside Cannery Claudia Castro show.
Of
course, there were people I would rather not have met. I agree with
much of the board postings on the street people of Fremont that they
are getting increasingly aggressive. The worst were two prostitutes.
They were together at 4 AM and one called to me and ran up to me to
sollicit.
“No,
thanks,” I said.
She
left and the other came up and asked me why I was so unfriendly.
I
told her that I was not unfriendly, that I had said , “No thanks.”
“Well,
suppose we go for a drink somewhere. Or do you say 'no thanks' to
that as well?”
I
just shook my head.
There
were other things I wanted to say.
These
two were both those hard faced women, unattractive and the last women
I would want to be in bed with, or anywhere really.
Finding
the pool inside Binions can be a chore. Generally, I walk around the
building and go in the back door by the place where they now have a
blowout sale on shirts. However, this time I had to pass through
five homeless and one ugly woman with really bad beaded hair
apparently did not like my simple hello. She tossed a plastic water
bottle so that I almost tripped and when I looked back she was doing
a nine year old like mock of my walk.
Guys
called to me from behind, “Excuse me. Excuse me” and followed me
down Fremont.
Walking
just a bit to the Golden Nugget was like walking a gauntlet. It took
the pleasant edge off downtown, and I think that is hard to do to me.
I have great tolerance for people in general, but this was just too
much.
I
don't encounter that in the quiet local casinos, but I also don't get
much of a cosmopolitan draw in places along Boulder, so poker can be
dull with the same regular rock locals and the same talk of sports or
whatever.
Take
the time I was in line for the buffet at the Palace Station with a 2
free buffet voucher and just me to feed. I thought perhaps I'd join
some other solor traveler or even one of the couples and let them
have a free buffet. Nope.
A
day earlier with a 2 for 1 I had been more fortunate
I
met Jim.
The
line was short, but the old fellow paused in front of me and so we
started talking politely as he urged me to go ahead. When I saw he
was going to pay by cash, I asked if he wanted to share my 2 for 1,
warning him that he would suffer the pain of eating with me and
hearing my stories. As it turned out the buffet would have taken my
ACG coupon for a solo 50% but this was much more fun anyway.
Jim
was 84 and in better health than I am, but he was beginning to feel
tired more often. He had been a great outdoors hiker, especially in
Colorado. There he told me he once started a hike against his better
judgement because it was so windy, the car shook in the parking lot.
However, he thinks that added infused oxygen gave him a boost of
energy that lasted for four days.
He
was also a gem collector.
When
I told him where I lived, he asked me how far it was to Herkimer and
I knew he wanted to go in search of the Herkimer “diamonds”
He
knew plenty about rocks. What a great hobby!
He
had built houses for a living in Denver and then in Tucson. He loved
Denver and all of Colorado, but he could not stand the winters
anymore. In fact, the Tucson winters were hard on him. It was sad,
but he did not complain.
We
talked about the Tucson Reid zoo and he told me that they just had a
baby elephant born there.
He
did not share anything about family, even when I did. He did say he
had a fellow who usually came to Vegas with him, but he had gotten
ill.
He
said that in a book he had read that seltzer helps to balance PH.
That was good news because seltzer is my drink.
He
was surprised.
I
really liked this quiet spoken sweet old man.
Had
I come with the free coupon a half hour earlier, I might have treated
him to breakfast. I talked to him in the buffet and wished him well.
On
my last day as I sat on the bench waiting for the WAX a woman turned
to me and said,
“Are
you Dewey?”
It
turned out she reads my blog and although she is a local, she enjoys
the tips. Well, that made my day.
Then
on the WAX I met a fellow from Montreal who was in Vegas for work.
He did not gamble. He did advise me about what to get for my
blisters and I have ordered the aloe cream and will see in November
if it precludes those nasty foot bubbles.
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