Fishy makes another TR - Feb 20-22
02-25-2023
, 08:36 PM
I just got back from a three-day Vegas bender with a buddy. My last trip report was a solo adventure - click here - , which you may remember from last year. (Looks like I was there the same time as Muck, sorry to have missed you!)
In this thread: poker, food porn, watches, and a “WTF was I thinking” experience of pure insanity.
Day 1
I scored two free nights at the Horseshoe, formerly known as Bally’s, via Caesar’s Diamond Rewards. It’s not terribly difficult to obtain Diamond status (there’s a 2+2 thread about it), and I highly recommend looking into it. No resort fees, low room rates, and no waiting at the poker room with priority seating.
My buddy, we’ll call him “Ricky”, has opted to travel on his motorcycle, while I will take the 1-hour flight on Southwest and skip the Dumb & Dumber photo opportunity. We walk out our front doors at the same time and I manage to arrive at the hotel a good 2 hours before him, and he likes to cruise at 100mph.
The new Horseshoe poker room is nice. If you remember the old Bally’s poker room, well, it sucked. The tables were crap, the chairs were crap, the chips were covered in crap, but the action was amazing.
It’s been completely remodeled. The felt, chips, chairs, electronics, it’s all brand-new. There’s a tournament series going on and the cash games are full of recreational players having a good time.
Hard to believe this used to be Bally’s
I sit down at the $2/3 NLHE game and buy in full for $500 at a newly opened table while I’m waiting for Ricky to arrive. I’m a very intermediate player, and there is a mix of OMCs and young players, and we’re all having a good time. They’re mostly buying in for $300, less than the max, which is a good sign for me.
I pick up TT and lose $100 on the river when KQ hits. I played it bad. I have this habit of checking most turns for pot control when all I have is a one-pair hand, and I think I need to reconsider how often I check turns. I pick up some small pots and am back to even. Then AA vs AK short-stack all-in preflop holds, followed by a set of 888, and I’m up $200! For a nit like me, I’m having an absolutely fantastic time!
Ricky finally arrives and sits down to my right. He buys in $300 and loses it in less than an hour. Rinse, lather, repeat and he’s in for $900 now. “I probably shouldn’t play poker after riding a motorcycle for five hours,” he admits.
Part of the Vegas fun is chatting with people from all over the country and all over the world. OMC sits down at the table and is a Florida caricature. There are certain unspoken rules at the poker table, one of them being, “Don’t talk about politics or religion.” This guy can’t shut up about either topic. I can’t imagine why, see for yourself:
The necklace ties it all together
Florida Man opens to $25, we all fold, and he shows KK, shocking.
Ricky starts chatting with a young guy across the table and it turns out they’re both from the same hometown. Homeboy and Ricky take a smoke break together, and when they come back it’s evident that it wasn’t tobacco.
Ricky loses his third buy-in. “I probably shouldn’t play poker after smoking a joint,” he admits. “Let’s get out of here!”
I leave the table up $239, and we walk over to New York New York. The weather is perfect, and the sunset sky is humming. You know that feeling when you’ve just started the trip and the anticipation of good food and poker is all right in front of you? The walk down the strip enhances the whole feeling. Having a stoned buddy with you adds to the experience.
Sunset on the strip
“Homeboy gave me another joint,” Ricky says, and shows me a perfectly rolled party in a wrapper. He raises his eyebrows at me as an invitation. “It’s super smooth, just a light buzz.”
I’m not into the pot scene, and I take poker way too seriously to even have a light beer at the table. Mind you, I’m not opposed to it, but it’s been years since I last partook of the herb. I give it some thought. What the heck: “I still want to play poker after dinner,” I say. “But we have that fancy dinner reservation for tomorrow night? Let’s save it? Maybe indulging a *tiny* bit before gourmet food will enhance the meal?” Ricky agrees and pockets the joint.
Our next stop is the Swatch store at New York New York. Why? Because of the MoonSwatch, an homage to the Omega Speedmaster Professional that has caused us douchebag watch-collecting nerds to lose our minds. This watch has been sold out everywhere for almost a year and supply is finally starting to catch up to demand. We manage to score the “Jupiter” and “Earth” models.
Mission Accomplished! On the wrist: Mission to Pluto from a previous adventure
Dinner is at the NYNY Chin Chin Café. Sorry, no food photos, totally forgot. We had lo mein noodles, kung pao chicken, sushi tacos, won-ton soup, and it was quite good.
Smoky Old Fashioned at Chin Chin
My after-dinner session is back at Horseshoe, and I win another $266! It’s mostly from KK vs QQ all in preflop, so not much in the way of interesting hands to share. I rack up and head to the room around midnight.
Day 1 total: +$505
Next up: Day 2, where our hero ****s around and finds out, and we’re not talking about the cards.
In this thread: poker, food porn, watches, and a “WTF was I thinking” experience of pure insanity.
Day 1
I scored two free nights at the Horseshoe, formerly known as Bally’s, via Caesar’s Diamond Rewards. It’s not terribly difficult to obtain Diamond status (there’s a 2+2 thread about it), and I highly recommend looking into it. No resort fees, low room rates, and no waiting at the poker room with priority seating.
My buddy, we’ll call him “Ricky”, has opted to travel on his motorcycle, while I will take the 1-hour flight on Southwest and skip the Dumb & Dumber photo opportunity. We walk out our front doors at the same time and I manage to arrive at the hotel a good 2 hours before him, and he likes to cruise at 100mph.
The new Horseshoe poker room is nice. If you remember the old Bally’s poker room, well, it sucked. The tables were crap, the chairs were crap, the chips were covered in crap, but the action was amazing.
It’s been completely remodeled. The felt, chips, chairs, electronics, it’s all brand-new. There’s a tournament series going on and the cash games are full of recreational players having a good time.
Hard to believe this used to be Bally’s
I sit down at the $2/3 NLHE game and buy in full for $500 at a newly opened table while I’m waiting for Ricky to arrive. I’m a very intermediate player, and there is a mix of OMCs and young players, and we’re all having a good time. They’re mostly buying in for $300, less than the max, which is a good sign for me.
I pick up TT and lose $100 on the river when KQ hits. I played it bad. I have this habit of checking most turns for pot control when all I have is a one-pair hand, and I think I need to reconsider how often I check turns. I pick up some small pots and am back to even. Then AA vs AK short-stack all-in preflop holds, followed by a set of 888, and I’m up $200! For a nit like me, I’m having an absolutely fantastic time!
Ricky finally arrives and sits down to my right. He buys in $300 and loses it in less than an hour. Rinse, lather, repeat and he’s in for $900 now. “I probably shouldn’t play poker after riding a motorcycle for five hours,” he admits.
Part of the Vegas fun is chatting with people from all over the country and all over the world. OMC sits down at the table and is a Florida caricature. There are certain unspoken rules at the poker table, one of them being, “Don’t talk about politics or religion.” This guy can’t shut up about either topic. I can’t imagine why, see for yourself:
The necklace ties it all together
Florida Man opens to $25, we all fold, and he shows KK, shocking.
Ricky starts chatting with a young guy across the table and it turns out they’re both from the same hometown. Homeboy and Ricky take a smoke break together, and when they come back it’s evident that it wasn’t tobacco.
Ricky loses his third buy-in. “I probably shouldn’t play poker after smoking a joint,” he admits. “Let’s get out of here!”
I leave the table up $239, and we walk over to New York New York. The weather is perfect, and the sunset sky is humming. You know that feeling when you’ve just started the trip and the anticipation of good food and poker is all right in front of you? The walk down the strip enhances the whole feeling. Having a stoned buddy with you adds to the experience.
Sunset on the strip
“Homeboy gave me another joint,” Ricky says, and shows me a perfectly rolled party in a wrapper. He raises his eyebrows at me as an invitation. “It’s super smooth, just a light buzz.”
I’m not into the pot scene, and I take poker way too seriously to even have a light beer at the table. Mind you, I’m not opposed to it, but it’s been years since I last partook of the herb. I give it some thought. What the heck: “I still want to play poker after dinner,” I say. “But we have that fancy dinner reservation for tomorrow night? Let’s save it? Maybe indulging a *tiny* bit before gourmet food will enhance the meal?” Ricky agrees and pockets the joint.
Our next stop is the Swatch store at New York New York. Why? Because of the MoonSwatch, an homage to the Omega Speedmaster Professional that has caused us douchebag watch-collecting nerds to lose our minds. This watch has been sold out everywhere for almost a year and supply is finally starting to catch up to demand. We manage to score the “Jupiter” and “Earth” models.
Mission Accomplished! On the wrist: Mission to Pluto from a previous adventure
Dinner is at the NYNY Chin Chin Café. Sorry, no food photos, totally forgot. We had lo mein noodles, kung pao chicken, sushi tacos, won-ton soup, and it was quite good.
Smoky Old Fashioned at Chin Chin
My after-dinner session is back at Horseshoe, and I win another $266! It’s mostly from KK vs QQ all in preflop, so not much in the way of interesting hands to share. I rack up and head to the room around midnight.
Day 1 total: +$505
Next up: Day 2, where our hero ****s around and finds out, and we’re not talking about the cards.
02-26-2023
, 05:22 AM
02-26-2023
, 07:08 AM
02-26-2023
, 03:34 PM
Day 2 – part 1
We start the day by walking across the street to Caesar’s Palace to grab some coffee and browse the forum shops. Ricky and I are watch nerds, so we have to make the rounds. Please feel free to skip the next couple paragraphs if you’re not a fellow watch dbag.
The Panerai store is open for business, but the door is locked. The security guard barely looks at us and makes no movement to open the door. Yes, we are dressed in a jeans and ratty hoodies, but if he looked at our wrists, he might have made an exception. Ricky is sporting a special edition Omega Seamaster that should be considered an entry ticket into any jewelry store. Me, I’m wearing my MoonSwatch, which demotes me to sidekick status. “F*** them,” says Ricky. “Panerai and their ETA movements.” “Don’t you have a Panerai?” I ask. “Yeah. I love them.”
Just a slight difference in MSRP
Mont Blanc staff are very nice but don’t have the World Timer Ricky wants to look at. We skip Hublot and Tag and go into the Tourneau shop, which sells several brands. The staff there are awesome and we browse and try on several watches. They even compliment my MoonSwatch and know all about it! Ricky spends a long time with a Tudor Pelagos and I can tell he’s thinking about pulling the trigger. Me, I’m in pure browsing mode. I own a couple luxury watches but do not have the budget to impulse buy jewelry. The pre-owned Panerai section whispers to me, "someday!"
We meander back to the Caesar’s poker room and take seats at different tables. Caesar’s is usually one of my favorite poker rooms on the strip: good energy right by the sports book, and plenty of mediocre poker players. The felt is new, but the seats are surprisingly uncomfortable compared to the brand-new chairs at Horseshoe. One of the dealers does an angle-shoot, if that’s even possible. Remember this trick for your next home game: Guy across the table from me 3-bets me preflop and everyone folds. He flashes QQ and I joke, “You shouldn’t have raised.” As if on cue, the dealer rabbit hunts the flop: QQ8! We all go nuts and I’m totally confused because I thought I had folded KQ.
Turns out, the dealer had scooped up the hole cards and just pretended to deal the flop by re-using the folded pair. It was flawless execution. Good times!
A little blue-haired old lady (yes, literally blue) is on a sun run. She’s picking up premium hands, hitting flops, and even wins with TT getting it in bad, then rivers the two-outer. Me, I’m card dead. The session lasts almost five hours and I lose $227. About half of that loss is a bad hero call with just Ace high that *maybe* is a reasonable call in my home game or local casino where the villains are capable of bluffing a whiffed flush draw for a hundred bucks, but not at Caesar’s 1/3 by a tourist from Indiana. I should know better. I think my dearth of pots and frustration of Little Old Lady never folding and always winning clouded my judgement.
Day 2: -$227. Trip subtotal: +$278
Dinner tonight is at Partage, an off-strip French restaurant that I’ve been to once before. They serve a different tasting menu every month and the cuisine is exceptional. Michelin no longer rates Las Vegas restaurants. This place would have one star easily, likely two. It’s squished in a busy strip mall next to a children’s shoe store. It looks like a Motel 6 on the outside, but as soon as you step inside it’s like being transported to the Ritz. I’ve pre-paid a non-refundable $200 deposit just to make the 8pm reservation.
5pm
We rack up and walk back to our hotel room to dress for dinner.
5:30pm
We head down to the lobby, grab a matchbook from the bar, and head outside to get our buzz on.
5:35pm
We light up like a couple of hooligans. “Relax, man, it’s totally legal,” Ricky says and nods at the valet driver walking by. We get a smirk and a nod back. He draws on the joint and hands it to me. I’m a total beginner at this, and sure enough, I have a coughing fit. Still, it does the trick and I feel a light buzz coming on. I try a couple more times, but the coughing is embarrassing, and I don’t want to screw up dinner. I tell Ricky, “I’m done.” He takes a couple more drags, snuffs it out, and tosses the remainder into the trash.
5:45pm
“I need water,” I say to Ricky. I’m ridiculously thirsty. We go back inside Horseshoe/Bally’s to get water.
6:15pm
Somehow, and it feels like only 90 seconds have gone by, we are now inside the Paris hotel next door at a bar asking for two cups of water. “How the hell did we get here?” I ask Ricky. He shrugs. We take our waters and head to an exit.
6:45pm
We’re still in Paris. Walking to the exit has taken another half-hour. I pull up the Uber app on my phone and start ordering a ride to the restaurant. There’s a huge sign above a slot machine near the exit that says, “UBER PICKUP”. My brain goes haywire, and I can’t complete the order. “Um, I need to sit down,” I say to Ricky. I’m swimming. “Just for a few minutes.”
7pm
I have tunnel vision. I can’t read the sign right above Ricky’s head. I start to sweat. “Still going up?” Ricky asks. I’m out of my gourd. The walls are moving. If you told me the car was in front of me and all I had to do was stand up and walk three feet to the door, I couldn’t do it. “How you doing?” I ask him. “I’m ok,” he lies.
7:13pm
I can’t move. My phone beeps that it’s two minutes until I need to check into my flight for tomorrow – gotta get that A boarding group! I open the Southwest app to wait the 120 seconds. And I wait. And wait. And wait. I think I’ve developed a superpower to stop time. 120 seconds takes about an hour.
7:14pm
I’m still sweating. I look at Ricky and he’s glazed over in the chair beside me. The slot machine beside me is pretty. I hit the buttons and watch the sparkling patterns and wonder how I’m playing without putting any money in?
7:15pm
My phone beeps and I click the button to check into my flight. It may have worked, but I can no longer read my screen. We’re going to have to skip dinner, I start to realize. The Rideshare sign above our heads is written in ancient Egyptian Hieroglyphics, which I can now read fluently. “I’m Rosetta Stoned!” I giggle out loud. Ricky doesn’t laugh at my awesome joke.
7:30pm
I start to come down. In the space of just a couple minutes, my head clears, the tunnel vision stops, and I just have a light buzz remaining. Wow.
“I think I’m ok!” I say to Ricky. I stand up and take a deep breath. I’m good to go! I look at Ricky and he’s not acknowledging me. “Ricky, I’m good now. How are you? Do we need to skip dinner?”
“I delegate all decisions to you,” he says, completely monotone.
“Can you walk?” I ask, and he nods. “We’re going to dinner,” I announce. I order the Uber, which comes immediately, and we’re at the restaurant a few minutes early! We’re standing outside the door and Ricky starts to rejoin the world. He’s talkative and alert. I get a genuine smile, and I know it’s going to be ok. At 8pm on the dot, we walk in, heads high, and tell the hostess we’re here for our reservation.
Next up: food porn
Partage, Las Vegas
We start the day by walking across the street to Caesar’s Palace to grab some coffee and browse the forum shops. Ricky and I are watch nerds, so we have to make the rounds. Please feel free to skip the next couple paragraphs if you’re not a fellow watch dbag.
The Panerai store is open for business, but the door is locked. The security guard barely looks at us and makes no movement to open the door. Yes, we are dressed in a jeans and ratty hoodies, but if he looked at our wrists, he might have made an exception. Ricky is sporting a special edition Omega Seamaster that should be considered an entry ticket into any jewelry store. Me, I’m wearing my MoonSwatch, which demotes me to sidekick status. “F*** them,” says Ricky. “Panerai and their ETA movements.” “Don’t you have a Panerai?” I ask. “Yeah. I love them.”
Just a slight difference in MSRP
Mont Blanc staff are very nice but don’t have the World Timer Ricky wants to look at. We skip Hublot and Tag and go into the Tourneau shop, which sells several brands. The staff there are awesome and we browse and try on several watches. They even compliment my MoonSwatch and know all about it! Ricky spends a long time with a Tudor Pelagos and I can tell he’s thinking about pulling the trigger. Me, I’m in pure browsing mode. I own a couple luxury watches but do not have the budget to impulse buy jewelry. The pre-owned Panerai section whispers to me, "someday!"
We meander back to the Caesar’s poker room and take seats at different tables. Caesar’s is usually one of my favorite poker rooms on the strip: good energy right by the sports book, and plenty of mediocre poker players. The felt is new, but the seats are surprisingly uncomfortable compared to the brand-new chairs at Horseshoe. One of the dealers does an angle-shoot, if that’s even possible. Remember this trick for your next home game: Guy across the table from me 3-bets me preflop and everyone folds. He flashes QQ and I joke, “You shouldn’t have raised.” As if on cue, the dealer rabbit hunts the flop: QQ8! We all go nuts and I’m totally confused because I thought I had folded KQ.
Turns out, the dealer had scooped up the hole cards and just pretended to deal the flop by re-using the folded pair. It was flawless execution. Good times!
A little blue-haired old lady (yes, literally blue) is on a sun run. She’s picking up premium hands, hitting flops, and even wins with TT getting it in bad, then rivers the two-outer. Me, I’m card dead. The session lasts almost five hours and I lose $227. About half of that loss is a bad hero call with just Ace high that *maybe* is a reasonable call in my home game or local casino where the villains are capable of bluffing a whiffed flush draw for a hundred bucks, but not at Caesar’s 1/3 by a tourist from Indiana. I should know better. I think my dearth of pots and frustration of Little Old Lady never folding and always winning clouded my judgement.
Day 2: -$227. Trip subtotal: +$278
Dinner tonight is at Partage, an off-strip French restaurant that I’ve been to once before. They serve a different tasting menu every month and the cuisine is exceptional. Michelin no longer rates Las Vegas restaurants. This place would have one star easily, likely two. It’s squished in a busy strip mall next to a children’s shoe store. It looks like a Motel 6 on the outside, but as soon as you step inside it’s like being transported to the Ritz. I’ve pre-paid a non-refundable $200 deposit just to make the 8pm reservation.
5pm
We rack up and walk back to our hotel room to dress for dinner.
5:30pm
We head down to the lobby, grab a matchbook from the bar, and head outside to get our buzz on.
5:35pm
We light up like a couple of hooligans. “Relax, man, it’s totally legal,” Ricky says and nods at the valet driver walking by. We get a smirk and a nod back. He draws on the joint and hands it to me. I’m a total beginner at this, and sure enough, I have a coughing fit. Still, it does the trick and I feel a light buzz coming on. I try a couple more times, but the coughing is embarrassing, and I don’t want to screw up dinner. I tell Ricky, “I’m done.” He takes a couple more drags, snuffs it out, and tosses the remainder into the trash.
5:45pm
“I need water,” I say to Ricky. I’m ridiculously thirsty. We go back inside Horseshoe/Bally’s to get water.
6:15pm
Somehow, and it feels like only 90 seconds have gone by, we are now inside the Paris hotel next door at a bar asking for two cups of water. “How the hell did we get here?” I ask Ricky. He shrugs. We take our waters and head to an exit.
6:45pm
We’re still in Paris. Walking to the exit has taken another half-hour. I pull up the Uber app on my phone and start ordering a ride to the restaurant. There’s a huge sign above a slot machine near the exit that says, “UBER PICKUP”. My brain goes haywire, and I can’t complete the order. “Um, I need to sit down,” I say to Ricky. I’m swimming. “Just for a few minutes.”
7pm
I have tunnel vision. I can’t read the sign right above Ricky’s head. I start to sweat. “Still going up?” Ricky asks. I’m out of my gourd. The walls are moving. If you told me the car was in front of me and all I had to do was stand up and walk three feet to the door, I couldn’t do it. “How you doing?” I ask him. “I’m ok,” he lies.
7:13pm
I can’t move. My phone beeps that it’s two minutes until I need to check into my flight for tomorrow – gotta get that A boarding group! I open the Southwest app to wait the 120 seconds. And I wait. And wait. And wait. I think I’ve developed a superpower to stop time. 120 seconds takes about an hour.
7:14pm
I’m still sweating. I look at Ricky and he’s glazed over in the chair beside me. The slot machine beside me is pretty. I hit the buttons and watch the sparkling patterns and wonder how I’m playing without putting any money in?
7:15pm
My phone beeps and I click the button to check into my flight. It may have worked, but I can no longer read my screen. We’re going to have to skip dinner, I start to realize. The Rideshare sign above our heads is written in ancient Egyptian Hieroglyphics, which I can now read fluently. “I’m Rosetta Stoned!” I giggle out loud. Ricky doesn’t laugh at my awesome joke.
7:30pm
I start to come down. In the space of just a couple minutes, my head clears, the tunnel vision stops, and I just have a light buzz remaining. Wow.
“I think I’m ok!” I say to Ricky. I stand up and take a deep breath. I’m good to go! I look at Ricky and he’s not acknowledging me. “Ricky, I’m good now. How are you? Do we need to skip dinner?”
“I delegate all decisions to you,” he says, completely monotone.
“Can you walk?” I ask, and he nods. “We’re going to dinner,” I announce. I order the Uber, which comes immediately, and we’re at the restaurant a few minutes early! We’re standing outside the door and Ricky starts to rejoin the world. He’s talkative and alert. I get a genuine smile, and I know it’s going to be ok. At 8pm on the dot, we walk in, heads high, and tell the hostess we’re here for our reservation.
Next up: food porn
Partage, Las Vegas
02-26-2023
, 04:34 PM
02-26-2023
, 11:55 PM
Day 2: The Dinner
We’re still high as ****, but it’s totally manageable at this point. “What the hell was that?” I ask Ricky. “You said it was smooth!”
“I watched him take out two identical joints from a little package,” he swears. “He bought it at a dispensary. It had a logo! I don’t know how they could have been so different.”
Our server arrives and welcomes us. Partage doesn’t really have a menu. You just pick how many courses you want, which level of wine parings, and the menu is otherwise fixed. We go for the full nine-course experience, $160pp, and I add on a $100 wine pairing. Ricky opts for a $70 caviar addition instead of wine.
Partage interior – yes, it’s a stock photo
She grins as she leaves the table and I realize at that moment that we must absolutely reek of marijuana. I’m embarrassed as hell, but that ship has sailed. We’re just going to have to live with the shame.
The first course arrives: a mushroom soup with truffles, cream, and a breadstick that we are instructed to use to mix it all together. It’s heavenly. I’m given a glass of Tattinger Champagne, and Ricky has his selection of caviar.
Soup’s on!
Next up is a foie gras dish. This one was unfortunately my least favorite of the meal. I love foie, but this presentation was a bit too silly even for a pretentious dinner like this one. The course comes in a little jar, diced and mixed with some sort of compote and a cute little spoon. It goes well with the Champagne, but I think I’d have preferred a more traditional foie and brioche.
Foie in a jar
The sommelier pours my next glass, a white Chateauneuf-du-Pape, which I’ve never had before – most wine from this region is red. It’s sublime: honey and caramel notes and a hint of citrus. It’s served with a tiger shrimp that is plated perfectly with fried peanuts and several different sauces. From the photo, you would think careful surgery will be needed to remove the tail meat, but it’s already been shelled. The peanuts are somehow fluffy. It’s one of my favorites of the evening:
Tiger Shrimp
The next course is inspired by a French classic, chicken cordon bleu. I’ve never seen it prepared this way before. It’s almost like a Hot Pocket, only delicious. The dark flakes surrounding it are black truffle. This was Ricky’s favorite, and I can’t disagree with his assessment. It pairs quite well with the white wine, and the inside of the fritter is a complex combination of chicken, cheese, and ham, but like nothing I’ve ever had before.
Chicken Cordon Blue
Next up is halibut, wrapped in bacon, served with three types of broccoli: tempura, puree, and foamy. It’s amazing. The bacon overpowers the fish a little bit, so the trick is just a bit of bacon at a time. The tempura broccoli flakes apart in my mouth without feeling greasy or salty. It’s just right.
Halibut and broccolis
My next glass of wine is a red Burgundy. It’s served with a duck dish that smells so good I start to eat it before snapping a photo. By the time I remember, I’ve ruined the presentation. It was fantastic, and served with a brioche bun that was still warm from the oven. Here’s a photo of the half-eaten course:
“You think with a financial statement like this you can have ze duck?!"
The next course is the main dish, served with a glass of left bank Bordeaux. Steak with potatoes. The steak is a perfect specimen of American beef, cooked rare, and the potatoes are layered with Reblochon cheese.
I’m in my happy place
The meal finishes with a cheese dish, a Basque sheep’s milk, followed by a chocolatey dessert that comes with a glass of rose bubbly.
Chocolate with chocolate and chocolate
With that, our meal concludes after two and a half hours of indulgence. All-in with tax and tip for two people was just over $600. Yes, that is absurd. On the other hand, it’s about one buy-in per person at $1/3, and I can’t wait to do it again!
We’re back in an Uber after dinner heading to the Horseshoe.
“Hey, Ricky?”
“Yeah?”
“What kind of mouse walks on two feet?”
“Um, Mickey Mouse?”
“Yes!” I say, “Mickey Mouse!”
I laugh. Ricky does not laugh.
“Hey, Ricky? What kind of duck walks on two feet?”
Ricky mutters, “Donald Duck.”
“No, ALL DUCKS, you dummy!”
I giggle. Ricky giggles. Our driver even laughs out loud. I think I might have still been a little high.
Next up: Day 3 with some poker run good for me, but also Ricky’s Nut Low of the trip.
We’re still high as ****, but it’s totally manageable at this point. “What the hell was that?” I ask Ricky. “You said it was smooth!”
“I watched him take out two identical joints from a little package,” he swears. “He bought it at a dispensary. It had a logo! I don’t know how they could have been so different.”
Our server arrives and welcomes us. Partage doesn’t really have a menu. You just pick how many courses you want, which level of wine parings, and the menu is otherwise fixed. We go for the full nine-course experience, $160pp, and I add on a $100 wine pairing. Ricky opts for a $70 caviar addition instead of wine.
Partage interior – yes, it’s a stock photo
She grins as she leaves the table and I realize at that moment that we must absolutely reek of marijuana. I’m embarrassed as hell, but that ship has sailed. We’re just going to have to live with the shame.
The first course arrives: a mushroom soup with truffles, cream, and a breadstick that we are instructed to use to mix it all together. It’s heavenly. I’m given a glass of Tattinger Champagne, and Ricky has his selection of caviar.
Soup’s on!
Next up is a foie gras dish. This one was unfortunately my least favorite of the meal. I love foie, but this presentation was a bit too silly even for a pretentious dinner like this one. The course comes in a little jar, diced and mixed with some sort of compote and a cute little spoon. It goes well with the Champagne, but I think I’d have preferred a more traditional foie and brioche.
Foie in a jar
The sommelier pours my next glass, a white Chateauneuf-du-Pape, which I’ve never had before – most wine from this region is red. It’s sublime: honey and caramel notes and a hint of citrus. It’s served with a tiger shrimp that is plated perfectly with fried peanuts and several different sauces. From the photo, you would think careful surgery will be needed to remove the tail meat, but it’s already been shelled. The peanuts are somehow fluffy. It’s one of my favorites of the evening:
Tiger Shrimp
The next course is inspired by a French classic, chicken cordon bleu. I’ve never seen it prepared this way before. It’s almost like a Hot Pocket, only delicious. The dark flakes surrounding it are black truffle. This was Ricky’s favorite, and I can’t disagree with his assessment. It pairs quite well with the white wine, and the inside of the fritter is a complex combination of chicken, cheese, and ham, but like nothing I’ve ever had before.
Chicken Cordon Blue
Next up is halibut, wrapped in bacon, served with three types of broccoli: tempura, puree, and foamy. It’s amazing. The bacon overpowers the fish a little bit, so the trick is just a bit of bacon at a time. The tempura broccoli flakes apart in my mouth without feeling greasy or salty. It’s just right.
Halibut and broccolis
My next glass of wine is a red Burgundy. It’s served with a duck dish that smells so good I start to eat it before snapping a photo. By the time I remember, I’ve ruined the presentation. It was fantastic, and served with a brioche bun that was still warm from the oven. Here’s a photo of the half-eaten course:
“You think with a financial statement like this you can have ze duck?!"
The next course is the main dish, served with a glass of left bank Bordeaux. Steak with potatoes. The steak is a perfect specimen of American beef, cooked rare, and the potatoes are layered with Reblochon cheese.
I’m in my happy place
The meal finishes with a cheese dish, a Basque sheep’s milk, followed by a chocolatey dessert that comes with a glass of rose bubbly.
Chocolate with chocolate and chocolate
With that, our meal concludes after two and a half hours of indulgence. All-in with tax and tip for two people was just over $600. Yes, that is absurd. On the other hand, it’s about one buy-in per person at $1/3, and I can’t wait to do it again!
We’re back in an Uber after dinner heading to the Horseshoe.
“Hey, Ricky?”
“Yeah?”
“What kind of mouse walks on two feet?”
“Um, Mickey Mouse?”
“Yes!” I say, “Mickey Mouse!”
I laugh. Ricky does not laugh.
“Hey, Ricky? What kind of duck walks on two feet?”
Ricky mutters, “Donald Duck.”
“No, ALL DUCKS, you dummy!”
I giggle. Ricky giggles. Our driver even laughs out loud. I think I might have still been a little high.
Next up: Day 3 with some poker run good for me, but also Ricky’s Nut Low of the trip.
02-27-2023
, 12:39 AM
02-27-2023
, 08:51 AM
02-27-2023
, 02:48 PM
02-27-2023
, 03:19 PM
Day 3
I usually don’t sleep so well in hotels, but I pass out immediately. I'm up at 8am after a fantastic night’s sleep. Today is check out day. I travel super light on these short trips, just a backpack.
Ricky packs up his motorcycle and we walk over to Planet Hollywood. I keep meaning to try the Salsa Cantina for breakfast. It’s one of the few places on the strip to get a greasy spoon breakfast at a reasonable price. There’s about a 15-minute wait and it goes by quickly.
Breakfast is fine. I forgot to take a photo, but their standard eggs, potatoes, toast, and bacon is exactly what I expected. I’m not sure I’d rush back there, but it’s a good option for the price.
Salsa Cantina breakfast - web photo but it looked just like this
Ricky and I part ways. He’s got a long ride home while I plan to play poker until it’s time to go to the airport.
The Horseshoe poker room is hopping. The tournament series is still going, and they have this room promotion every day from noon until midnight for cash games where the high hand is awarded $200 every 20 minutes. They take an extra $1 from every pot to fund the promotion, but it keeps the room busy with recreational players. Dare I say it? “More rake is better!”
They seat me at a new $1/3 table and put me on the wait list for $2/3. I know the moment I sit down that I probably won’t want to move tables. It’s rare that I ever consider myself to be the best player at the table, but today may be an exception. They all suck. I’m talking procedural errors, an inability to act without the dealer explicitly listing all options, players all buying in short for $100 or $200. I know small stacks annoy a lot of us regs, but I look at short stack players as an opportunity to profit from their mistakes. They almost all excel at risking too much to win too little.
The player on my right, he’s a perfect example. He’s in for $200, nervous as hell, treats the betting line as some sort of magical barrier, carefully places his chips *just* over the line, and plays every hand. He is destined to lose all his money.
I just play my ABC game. I pick up AA and win a small pot. I hit my straight on the river, but it’s irrelevant because I was going to win that pot whether I hit it or not. I bet small to induce a call, but he folds anyway.
Here’s an interesting hand that I simultaneously played well and bad:
I see a free flop in the big blind holding T
2
. Flop is A 
T 2
. A little bell goes off in my head, “bing!”
No need to be secretive, either someone has an Ace or they don’t. I lead out $12. The player on my left calls. One other player calls. The turn is 3. There’s around $40 in the pot and I lead again for $30.
The player on my left click-raises to $60. Huh. In my experience, the min-raise from an inexperienced, recreational tourist is very nutted. Bottom two pair is certainly vulnerable, and this player has AT, A2, A3, 33 all in his range. I’m blocking TT and 22, but those are still possible.
Still, he might be playing AK or AQ this way, I lie to myself. The third player folds and I make the call.
The river binks another T, giving me a full house. There’s about $160 in the pot and he has another $100 behind.
Here’s my mistake: I just check. I’m convinced he has AT because I suffer from monsters under the bed syndrome. Here’s why I’m wrong – or at least why it doesn’t matter. This is the type of player that would usually raise me with top two pair on the flop. Unless he slow-played AA preflop UTG, I’m way ahead. The turn hit him hard, which means he likely has A3 or 33, giving me the essential nuts vs the majority of his range, and giving him a hand he’ll call a big bet with. And really, am I folding to any bet on the river? No, which means I should bet. But I am FishyMcFishFace, and I stupidly just check.
He checks back and shows 45 for the turned wheel. I scoop the pot but feel like an idiot for not maximizing. Typing it up now, this hand still haunts me. My turn read was spot-on, and I called when I was way behind. Then I binked a four-outer, and I checked?! Sigh.
The dealer calls out, “High Hand!” because any full house qualifies. In this busy room, a low full house will never last the 20 minutes to win the bonus, so I just laugh. “You never know,” the dealer says. The floor comes, verifies the hand, and puts me on the board.
A little while later, I glance up at the high hand board. My TTT22 is still the highest hand with just six minutes remaining! I don’t want to say anything, don’t want to tempt the poker gods, don’t want to jinx it. Another player at our table had 3333 cracked with a minute to go earlier in the day.
A few more hands go by and I’m still the high hand with two minutes to go on the clock. The dealer gets pushed. I decide to buy some karma. “What table are you going to be at in two minutes?” I ask the dealer, implying that I will tip him if I win. “I’m leaving for the day,” he says.
“Stick around for two minutes. If I hold, you get a green chip, ok?”
I can’t believe how nervous I am watching the last two minutes count down. I’ve been more zen with $1000 pots on the line and two cards to come than this freeroll for $200.
The final seconds count down. 3… 2… 1…. My dealer is standing by the front desk and confirms the win and gives me a big thumbs up. I jump up from the table. “Is it done? Did I win?
“You won!” he says. We fist bump. I hand him his green chip. It’s exhilarating!
Always nice to end on some run good!
I go on a small heater, hit a nut flush, get paid, and I’m in the zone. It doesn’t happen often, but there are times in poker where my brain just goes into flow and I’m making good bets, raises, and folds, and the time flies by.
Before I know it, it’s time to rack up and head to the airport.
Mid-week evenings are low traffic and Uber gets me to the terminal quickly. Zero wait at security, and I stop by the Amex lounge for a quick meal and a glass of wine before my Southwest flight home.
Amex Airport Lounge – salad was good, wine was good, pasta was meh
I text Ricky, who’s been on the road for a few hours now.
Is this beat, brag, or variance?
Day 3 total: +$472
Trip total: $+750
I’m already looking forward to the next trip! Thanks for reading!
I usually don’t sleep so well in hotels, but I pass out immediately. I'm up at 8am after a fantastic night’s sleep. Today is check out day. I travel super light on these short trips, just a backpack.
Ricky packs up his motorcycle and we walk over to Planet Hollywood. I keep meaning to try the Salsa Cantina for breakfast. It’s one of the few places on the strip to get a greasy spoon breakfast at a reasonable price. There’s about a 15-minute wait and it goes by quickly.
Breakfast is fine. I forgot to take a photo, but their standard eggs, potatoes, toast, and bacon is exactly what I expected. I’m not sure I’d rush back there, but it’s a good option for the price.
Salsa Cantina breakfast - web photo but it looked just like this
Ricky and I part ways. He’s got a long ride home while I plan to play poker until it’s time to go to the airport.
The Horseshoe poker room is hopping. The tournament series is still going, and they have this room promotion every day from noon until midnight for cash games where the high hand is awarded $200 every 20 minutes. They take an extra $1 from every pot to fund the promotion, but it keeps the room busy with recreational players. Dare I say it? “More rake is better!”
They seat me at a new $1/3 table and put me on the wait list for $2/3. I know the moment I sit down that I probably won’t want to move tables. It’s rare that I ever consider myself to be the best player at the table, but today may be an exception. They all suck. I’m talking procedural errors, an inability to act without the dealer explicitly listing all options, players all buying in short for $100 or $200. I know small stacks annoy a lot of us regs, but I look at short stack players as an opportunity to profit from their mistakes. They almost all excel at risking too much to win too little.
The player on my right, he’s a perfect example. He’s in for $200, nervous as hell, treats the betting line as some sort of magical barrier, carefully places his chips *just* over the line, and plays every hand. He is destined to lose all his money.
I just play my ABC game. I pick up AA and win a small pot. I hit my straight on the river, but it’s irrelevant because I was going to win that pot whether I hit it or not. I bet small to induce a call, but he folds anyway.
Here’s an interesting hand that I simultaneously played well and bad:
I see a free flop in the big blind holding T
2. Flop is A T 2. A little bell goes off in my head, “bing!”No need to be secretive, either someone has an Ace or they don’t. I lead out $12. The player on my left calls. One other player calls. The turn is 3
. There’s around $40 in the pot and I lead again for $30.The player on my left click-raises to $60. Huh. In my experience, the min-raise from an inexperienced, recreational tourist is very nutted. Bottom two pair is certainly vulnerable, and this player has AT, A2, A3, 33 all in his range. I’m blocking TT and 22, but those are still possible.
Still, he might be playing AK or AQ this way, I lie to myself. The third player folds and I make the call.
The river binks another T, giving me a full house. There’s about $160 in the pot and he has another $100 behind.
Here’s my mistake: I just check. I’m convinced he has AT because I suffer from monsters under the bed syndrome. Here’s why I’m wrong – or at least why it doesn’t matter. This is the type of player that would usually raise me with top two pair on the flop. Unless he slow-played AA preflop UTG, I’m way ahead. The turn hit him hard, which means he likely has A3 or 33, giving me the essential nuts vs the majority of his range, and giving him a hand he’ll call a big bet with. And really, am I folding to any bet on the river? No, which means I should bet. But I am FishyMcFishFace, and I stupidly just check.
He checks back and shows 45 for the turned wheel. I scoop the pot but feel like an idiot for not maximizing. Typing it up now, this hand still haunts me. My turn read was spot-on, and I called when I was way behind. Then I binked a four-outer, and I checked?! Sigh.
The dealer calls out, “High Hand!” because any full house qualifies. In this busy room, a low full house will never last the 20 minutes to win the bonus, so I just laugh. “You never know,” the dealer says. The floor comes, verifies the hand, and puts me on the board.
A little while later, I glance up at the high hand board. My TTT22 is still the highest hand with just six minutes remaining! I don’t want to say anything, don’t want to tempt the poker gods, don’t want to jinx it. Another player at our table had 3333 cracked with a minute to go earlier in the day.
A few more hands go by and I’m still the high hand with two minutes to go on the clock. The dealer gets pushed. I decide to buy some karma. “What table are you going to be at in two minutes?” I ask the dealer, implying that I will tip him if I win. “I’m leaving for the day,” he says.
“Stick around for two minutes. If I hold, you get a green chip, ok?”
I can’t believe how nervous I am watching the last two minutes count down. I’ve been more zen with $1000 pots on the line and two cards to come than this freeroll for $200.
The final seconds count down. 3… 2… 1…. My dealer is standing by the front desk and confirms the win and gives me a big thumbs up. I jump up from the table. “Is it done? Did I win?
“You won!” he says. We fist bump. I hand him his green chip. It’s exhilarating!
Always nice to end on some run good!
I go on a small heater, hit a nut flush, get paid, and I’m in the zone. It doesn’t happen often, but there are times in poker where my brain just goes into flow and I’m making good bets, raises, and folds, and the time flies by.
Before I know it, it’s time to rack up and head to the airport.
Mid-week evenings are low traffic and Uber gets me to the terminal quickly. Zero wait at security, and I stop by the Amex lounge for a quick meal and a glass of wine before my Southwest flight home.
Amex Airport Lounge – salad was good, wine was good, pasta was meh
I text Ricky, who’s been on the road for a few hours now.
Is this beat, brag, or variance?
Day 3 total: +$472
Trip total: $+750
I’m already looking forward to the next trip! Thanks for reading!
Last edited by FishyMcFishFace; 02-27-2023 at 03:33 PM.
02-27-2023
, 05:17 PM
02-27-2023
, 07:05 PM
