Here's a little post-game wrap-up, although I think my live photos did a good job. I actually think I want to switch my thread to an ongoing TR, it's more fun.

TR DAY 1:

As is quickly becoming tradition, I spent the early part of the day running around like a madman. Took the kids to swim lessons, mowed the lawn for the first time all year, re-seeded the gigantic bare patches from the Winter of Death, you know, all good things to do with 45 minutes before I need to be on a flight to LV. To make matters worse, my douchey vape-bro e-cig, the only line of defense I have against smoking and lung cancer, broke, so I had to run and get a new one.

Thankfully the airline I was using this trip flies out of the less crowded terminal so getting through security was no problem. Because this was a total solo grinder trip, I packed like a total nit—single carry-on with all my stuff + my laptop bag.

Flight was mostly uneventful, the previously accounted sighting of Louie Anderson aside. I sat next to a woman who lives in LV and was picking up her 2 year old from her ex. They were nice and sitting next to well behaved kids means that I got to sprawl a little bit.

A short nap later we arrived. No checked bags meant I was at the rental car place within 15 minutes of landing. Once there I headed to the Firefly rental counter, no line, no muss, no fuss, $97 total for the week.

***I have mentioned elsewhere that I booked 3 cars for super-cheap via Orbitz so I could have a backup in case there were any problems. This ended up be more of a hassle than it was worth, because I couldn't cancel the other two cars via the orbitz website on my phone and had to call them. Mind you, I have a saved customer service chat that says that I can cancel the extra cars any time with no fee, but it was still a sweat.

Airport to Von's for groceries, do not pass Go. This was a great budget life-nit recommendation from 2+2. Prepackaged $1.99 cobb salads, apples, smart water, 2 liter of PepsiMAX (because I am very masculine). I almost bought a bottle of Jameson but decided drinking whiskey by myself in my hotel room was EV-. I asked to get a Von's card for the mega discount at the cashier and the guy just rang up the discount and skipped having me apply for a card.

At PH, I platinum-skipped a huge line and checked in, to discover that my TR card VISA, which I'd used to book the trip, was “locked” due to unusual activity. So apparently, having the Caesar's branded credit card, booking a Caesar's hotel with the credit card, and then using it while at a Caesar's property without calling them to tell them I'm going to Vegas is considered “unusual activity.” I appreciate credit security. Who wants to bet that it's because I went to a grocery store first?

After getting settled in and some Earl of Sandwich (thanks for the rec, Natamus), I quickly got on a 1-2 table in the PH poker room, where I found myself seated next to Jockbay and an older pro lurker whose name started with R. After watching Jockbay get paid off on flopped quads I figured I'd give him Poppa's Vegas poker quiz:

1)Where you from?
2)You live here now?
3)What else do you do besides play poker?
4)You read 2+2?

Jockbay's answers: not here, yes, not much, yes! He was a good player and it was fun playing with him. Much respect, his game was solid. R, who was older, was also a solid grinder.

***Before I go any further, I want to say that is very rare for people who claim to be grinding out a living. In my relatively few trips to LV I have played a lot of people who said they were grinding out a living. Some of them were older and many of them were younger. I am considering putting together a bigger piece of writing on this topic, but in general, the younger dudes grinding out a living I encountered need an intervention. If a 39 year old, two kids and a mortgage having, Dan Harrington-reading amateur is outplaying you, you have a problem and should not be playing poker for a living in Las Vegas or anywhere else in the world. Points to dudes like R, Jockbay, this kid Ryan I played at the Bellagio, a couple guys named Steve, and a few others who got some solid game and can sit and grind.

Both Jockbay and R were both excellent neighbors. R offered to get us in to watch a private game (“to see real poker”) which sounded cool but I wanted to play, not watch. I got stuck early while getting settled in but started to hit a groove about the time Jockbay decided that he should take off. It had been a long day for him and I think R (and I) made it a pretty tough table.

After Jockbay left things got pretty easy. Raise with JJ, flop top set, bet flop, get a call, check when A comes on the turn, get it all in on the river, ship it, repeat. Literally happened 3 times out of the 4 I got JJ, and I never saw better than JJ my whole session. Even R commented how good I was running. Meanwhile the kid who took over Jockbay's seat was another grinder, much more volitile/high-variance style, and kind of a needler, but he most stayed out of my pots after I lost one small one to him and took down a big one.

At some point I was so over-tired that I knew it was time to cash, but I was also super wired. So I cashed, went outside, and more or less wandered around for an hour people watching. At one point a hooker yelled from the escalator by the Cromwell, “I love you!” and I yelled back, “that's because I'm very loveable!”

Time to go to bed, Poppa.

Day 2:

Sunday, such an uneventful day, really. If I learned one thing on Sunday it's how easily I get trapped in my own tiny-bubble comfort zone. Ironically enough, I probably play way better poker when I'm not in my comfort zone.

This might seem like the opposite of the adage “don't play scared money,” but it's not. Instead, what I'm talking about is challenging myself and not settling into a place of complacency. In my boring old TAG game, Zen is a good thing. Complacency is not. Complacency leads to mistakes, bad seat, table, game, and room selection. I tell myself, “well, you played that guy last night.” There's an argument to be made for knowing the players you're playing with, but I sometimes find that my immediate observations of a new player is more reliable than presumptions made when I have a solid history tracked in my head.

A big error in my March trip was not carving out time to play good rooms, instead sticking close to my bed at Flamingo. And I knew it, yet I still ended up spending my first full day almost entirely at PH.

Woke up unable to walk (stupid aging body, stupid plantar fascitis) and dawdled around the room eating a salad and rolling my foot on a frozen golf ball until I could finally motivate myself downstairs for the PH 1pm tournament.

For the guarantee alone these tournaments look appealing but as someone who isn't much of a practiced tournament player any more with a definite preference for cash games, the extended luckbox period and bad players just to get to a final table that skews dramatically towards the top two (because they aren't going to pay more places with such a huge guarantee).

At any rate, I played two tournaments at PH that day. Final tabled the first but got crippled when I took an all-in call from a guy preflop AT vs. QJ and of course lost. Busto the next hand. Second tournament took a couple coolers and was done.

In between I played a solid, fun, but not hugely profitable table of 1-2, made about $68. So one of the tourneys was effectively a free roll. Was actually going to leave when a kid I was playing with earlier encouraged me to sit back down. Proceeded to have a crappy session, a combination of coolers and play bad, all from damn complacency. It's telling that I can't recount many notable hands. I did spend a while next to some local named Jeff who was drunk, claimed to be slumming from some high stakes game at the Bell, lost a bunch of money, and spent a fair amount of time giving out free poker lessons to anyone who listened. Gave up stuck about $350 and wandered over to Flamingo.

None of this was part of the plan. I had figured I might hit the MGM to see if there was any spillover crazyness from the Billboard music awards, or go check out a nicer room like Bellagio or Aria. But instead, I spent way too many hours at PH and then wandered back into familiar territory. I wasn't even planning on playing poker, but there was an open seat, and I took it.

Started solid at Flamingo, classic weak table, ran up about $100 when a manic joined us two to my right. Immediately (and drunkenly) started trying to run over the table. Lots of yelling at his buddy who I'd already made as trash talking but ultimately weak/passive, which meant they played a lot of poker together and he was used to flooding to this nutjob.

As noted earlier in this thread, the spewtard made it $70 on the button PF and I shoved my entire $400+ with QQ. Spewtard calls, rolls over Q7 and makes trips on the turn. Boo.

Best player at the table was some kid from Hawaii named Ken. Most were classic no-fold-'em drunks, tons of bad play everywhere.

I didn't tilt when I lost the crazy hand, nor when Spewy continued to suck out on people while nonsensically gangsta rambling and then announcing that he just wanted to be friends and how we were all going to party later. I did lose my cool when he tried to level the table announcing that he thought it was a tournament and he'd never play that way with actual money and then packed up and cashed out about $1700. This broke our table, so we grabbed seats at the remaining tables, and lo and behold a few minutes later Spewy tried to short buy for $200. Much arguing again, he sat and waited an hour.

Although I should have quit playing long before, I managed to grind back up to even, then lost a big pot to a flopped pair + flush draw vs. set to the only other guy who deserved a win at the table, took a decent pot off Spewy that he almost called (flopped trips for me), and then, to cap the night, the very nice drunk Canadian to my right told me how he likes to bluff a lot right as I look down at AA.

I believe in a certain transitive psychology, that people will assume that you are playing how they would play in a particular spot, so I knew in this moment that I could lead this hand the whole way and get called. Sure enough, he called my all-in turn shove with K4 for bottom pair. I faded the cooler and called it a day shortly after. Thank God I still had my sunglasses, it was 8:30 AM. Called the desk for late check out, couldn't get anything past noon (the ultimate cooler!). Counted my money up and discovered $180 completely unaccounted for, which makes no sense AT ALL. So I just credited myself an extra $100 for the bad PH night and $80 for the Flamingo and gave up and went to sleep, still up $230ish with the magic money fairy.

I hope these aren't ridiculously long, I am growing to hate the overly detailed TR wrap-ups.

Day 3: Me vs. Downtown, Part One

I woke up at 12:29. Whoops.

I was packed, showered, and at the PH checkout desk in 16 minutes. No problem, no late charge. Asked the desk person if they thought I could get into Bally's early. He guessed yes, so I threw my stuff in the car and managed a parlor suite upgrade in the Indigo Tower.

My plan was to hit downtown for the Binion's 2PM tournament, then hang out and degen through the Plaza $12 Omaha tournament. Having a day where I didn't plan to have anything resembling serious money on the line playing poker was freeing. Binion's doesn't like to do alternates so they start a few tables very short, so I began the tourney playing 5 handed. Ate my Von's Cobb salad breakfast at the table. Table was full of nice loose/passive regs who must play this thing daily. Had to fire a second bullet when I raised preflop with AJ, got two callers, flopped top pair on a 2 spade board, check check bet call c/r shove I call shover has 2 spades flush comes home screw this these guys are weak here's another $80. Binion's is also happy to give you the exact same seat if possible.

Second bullet I suddenly became inspired. Not sure if the was the constant dosing of emergen-C or the red bull or the good conversation with a 2+2 lurker I'll just call “M” since his name is pretty distinctive, but I had one of those path-to-victory-see-the-matrix moments where suddenly the entire rest of the tournament started to make sense. Hilariously, I was falling asleep at the table at the same time. But pot after pot came my way, and I played virtually 100% mistake free poker to the point where I started to regret that I wasn't playing an actual cash game. I never, ever, ever play mistake free poker.

Final table there was an Irish cab driver who was huge stacked, everyone else was slightly above or less than me. Only real crazy hand to note was when I limped UTG with J10 (play variation is my only excuse, if there was a raise and folds around to me I'd open muck it and look dumber than I actually am) and everyone else mucked to the SB, who called. 3 players. I joked, “It's not often that you can limp UTG and still be in position on the flop.” Flop comes AQ blank check check check. Blank check check check. River K ding ding ding. I bet like 1/3 the pot, 3700 into 9600 or so. Irish cab driver Tom (who was awesome to hang out with) raises to 7200. I tank for a while, ask him if he has one pair beat, then make it 18700 total. He calls with an unseen two pair, I show the nuts. After I ask the waitress to bring us each a shot of Jameson and discover that Binion's doesn't comp Irish whiskey to players.

Tournament ends when the woman to my left who had come back from break with 3 BB left and was now in second and obviously underaged but who cares kid in close third. We've been at this for 6 hours and it's about to get crazy with the blinds and antes, so I offer a chop, although I should have asked for more since I was in for 2 bullets. After tip only +190 but my first card room tournament cash. Woo!

After the tournament, I walked to El Cortez and played some decent single deck BJ but got crushed a lot by the deck. Stuck $140 managed a come back to +$75 or so when I realized that it was now 9:40 PM, all I'd eaten that day was a Von's salad, an apple, and a couple power bars, and I wasn't going to have time for dinner before I hit the Plaza for TWELVE DOLLAR OMAHA!!!

Got to the Plaza, registered, took seat #9 at this ridiculous STT. Immediate weird—not in a negative way—vibe at the table where everyone seemed to know each other, six dudes and three women, and it didn't seem like these were casual players who wandered over from the Plaza's (yummy, btw!) pizza counter. And then I realized that I recognized the guy sitting across from me from TV. Like WSOP ESPN broadcast TV.

I don't think I'm allowed to name names here and I don't use phrases like “the poker community” and “the poker world” but it's definitely a life with a number of contentious characters so out of respect to these strangers I partied with who wished my happy birthday about 600 times, I am not going to hint at the identities of some of the better known folks. Either way everyone I met was fun and personable and it turns out that some folks in town who are legitimate poker nerds (that's a positive, in case you're confused) like to party and get free drinks while playing $12 Omaha. I mention 2+2 and get a mixed reaction but one of the guys at the table says, “You should meet that guy NorCalJew, he's hilarious!” At some point somebody orders a round of Adios MotherF***ers (ADF! ADF! ADF!) which may have to replace the greyhound as the official gathering drink of poker players everywhere.

One goth/punk looking kid who has been named here, Drew, buys a second bullet. Being an aging punk dude myself I appreciate a weirdo at the table. I suck out to bust a better Omaha player than me and we get our 10th player, who immediately says, “are any of you the guy from 2+2?” That was Sublyme, and he and Drew remained my post-game party buddies for much of the night. After I bust (5th) I hang out with the other folks drinking until the game wraps and everyone but Drew, Sublyme and I call it a night. We hoof it over to Main Street Station where Sub and I teach Drew to play craps and I mock them for not betting full odds until I realize I've dropped $200 and they've each lost about $20.

After this, Sublyme drops an entire beer on the carpet of the Plaza (where he is staying) and runs away, and Drew and I go play blackjack.

Things you need to know about Drew: he's local, he's a hell of a guy, he has a ton of bats tattoed on him, and he knows his blackjack. We grab comped dinner at Binion's then hit a $10 table at the Nugget where we drunkenly both run up a decent amount of $$$ (enough that I'm still ahead on my gamblor budget even after the losing craps session). Also at our table at 5 AM: the guy who runs the Plaza poker room, and a young married couple who almost got their cell phone stolen on the bus. I didn't get full story because, well, drunk. Also, don't ride the bus in Vegas, you cheapskates. This coming from the guy who ate a $1.99 Von's salad for brunch. Do tip your valet and drive back to the strip as people are on their way to work.

+175 in poker, +50 in gamblor, for a total +450 or so.

Days 4-6 later if anyone cares.

How did Firefly work out? There are tons of bad reviews on them, it sounds like a real horror show.

If you were a REAL life-nit, you woulda bought this stuff from Walmart.

A private game in PHo? Where would they hold it?

Hey PL,

You mentioned that Binion's does not comp Irish whiskey. Did they give a reason why? Do they comp Scotch whiskey?

What gives?

In before you spelled whisky wrong.

Yes please. Enjoying the TR

I have found them to be fine for a budget carrier twice now. I think it's because they are Hertz owned so at least there's the implication of recourse. I could have gone $5 cheaper with Payless but their reviews are terrifying.


Never ever ever.

It was apparently a house game somewhere.

Just got home from tonight's session, +550, more later.

Day 4: When sh—I mean, stuff gets REAL. And then REAL WEIRD.

9 hours of blessed sleep. I woke up mid-day, turned on the TV, and proceeded to go back to sleep during a Bones marathon. Sometimes I like sleeping with the TV on, it works my brain out.

Sleep and I have a weird, abusive relationship and I can get pretty fried after a while, so laying around all day was pretty amazing. More foot massaging and squaring money, and it was time to get into some real poker. I have a decent bankroll (separate from all other funds, and until one of you more career-successful types hires me to be your all-purpose genius, it's gonna stay that way) but it took a pretty gross bottom-end variance hit right before the trip, so “real poker” could only mean 2-5 at the Bellagio.

Although I will full buy to 150-200BB, I honestly think that at 2-5 my game is best suited for 100BB play. In that sense, the B's $500 cap is perfect for me. It forces me to be as tight and patient as I should be and eliminates the occasional temptation to LAG it up.

Understand, I am a big dude. And I'm chatty. And friendly, and I don't needle, but for whatever reason, I draw insane amounts of action. Friends have commented on how crazy it is. I can play a 5 hour session and flip the nuts every showdown and the very next time I raise, I still get 5 callers and at least one hanging out until at least the turn. So for me, a conservative style is the only way to go. Call it an inverse property of social expectation—people perceive me to be one way, so I deliver the opposite. This is something I honed years ago working security at bars and night clubs, where I found that throwing people's expectation of a big-ass bouncer completely out of whack by being very friendly and reasonable made my life a lot easier.

So I load up the cargo shorts with essentials—power bars, a couple apples, my iPod, my Kindle, and the ever-present vape-bro, and head out the door. I have literally not even glanced at the casino floor of Bally's yet and I've been checked in for 27 hours.

Outside on the narrow little sidewalk along the Bally's construction on Flamingo, there was a guy screaming at everyone and daring them to fight. I made eye contact and laughed because that's the kind of guy I am, and because I'm fairly certain I was the only English speaker in the entire line of pedestrians. I beelined to the Bell poker room and immediately asked for both 2-5 and 1-3. Short waitlist for both, but the staff was very accommodating. Although I have heard bad things about the B's poker room staff, I had nothing but positive experiences the whole time.

They took my number to send a text when my table was ready. I wandered to find the nearest pai gow table to grab a greyhound and kill some time. In a weak attempt to improve my mLife rating, I bought for my entire day's bankroll and then still proceeded to min bet with a dollar on the bonus. Two hands later (or 10 minutes in pai gow time), I was down two bucks, draining a greyhound and heading back to the poker room.

This was a many, many hour session and I can't track everyone who came and went, but there were some notable people and notable hands. About even mix of older reg-types, real estate conference businessmen, and younger thinking players. The first thing I discovered was that Ed Miller's 5 things to remember at a 2-5 table were dead on—people limped, called IP raises, and folded to flop/turn c-bets like no tomorrow. I started with a fairly solid run of good cards and solid bluffs, slowly built a stack up and then stupidly tanked a small bluff against this Russian kid two to my left on a tripped board. Zeebo's theorem in full effect. Not a huge hit but I hate it when I blow a bluff because I feel totally exposed.

Shortly thereafter, a few key things happened in no particular order: first cards died for a while and I was just hanging on, folding a ton. Second, Katana rolled up and we did introductions and hung out for a few minutes at the penny slots talking about his stuff and a couple projects I'm working on. It was awesome to meet him and I wish we could have done some shots but he was showing a buddy around, and I was locked in to poker. Third, I tried to go head to head with a total LAG, this Hungarian kid named Andrew one to my left, and he picked me off on a bad bluff that cost me $150 on the river. Stupid, stupid, stupid, at least in the moment. For the first time I was below $500 and annoyed with myself, because it felt like the tight image I'd worked hard for had been totally killed.

At this point, the saving grace of this error was that I was getting some solid respect from the younger guys at the table, all of whom were piled at my end. Being stuck between a TAG Londoner named Dan and Andrew the Hungarian LAG could have sucked but as the cards fell, we weren't getting into many pots against each other. At some point the Russian left and a very nice (Indian?) man named R from LA sat in his seat, just in time to witness my bad bluff.

Then, comes this weird hand: I had 67 suited in LP in a multihanded flop that gets checks all around. A 7 comes on the turn that also puts 2 diamonds on the board and an older reg-type in EP licks his chops and bets. Given that this situation is almost always betting the flush draw, I raise slightly above minimum to take control of the pot with what I'm rating to be the best hand and get the check on the river unless he hits. He calls, river blanks, he looks like he's going to shove for a second, then checks, and I check behind and roll over the dictionary definition of showdown value and take the pot. Grumpy reg then starts not-too-quietly griping to his end of the table about what a terrible poker player I am and how I was some sort of piece of **** who would have probably called a shove with 4th pair.

I decided to act like I cared a little bit and Hungarian LAG said, “I do not understand why he is so mad, you knew you had the best hand and bet it, he is not good.” This seems like a significant respect from him, which is valuable. I had been joking about what an idiot was for blowing that $150 river bluff with him, and we were friendly enough that he didn't seem to mind my constant chatter.

Soon after R from LA offered to pick up dinner for me with his billions in mLife comps, which was very nice of him. I thanked him by beating him in 3 pots shortly after, including one where I raised pre with AK, c-bet the flop, got a call from R, check check on the turn, fire a bluff on the river and he calls.

“All I have is AK,” I said, he mucked, and the pot was mine.

Who calls with less than AK no pair in that spot? Sorry R, you were super awesome, thanks for the quesadilla.

It was about this time (maybe food helped) that the game essentially simplified into a get fat value vs. fish stay away from good players type game. We did see a steady increase in good players, including a guy who took R's seat, and a pro across the table (2 seat vs. my 8) I pissed off by calling a flush on the board when he thought his two pair vs. AA was good. I apologized for the breach in local etiquette later, but given that my position on the hand was better than his, these is no doubt in my mind that the kid with AA (whose name was Andy, not to be mistaken for Hungarian Andrew) knew he has the winner.

The 6-9 seat situation (me in 8) became a murder's row of intense play as the addition of Andy meant suddenly we weren't staying out of each other's pots. At this point I'm just trying to pick off fish and the later it gets, the less likely that is. We've already seen so many come and go. I'm hovering about 1300 in front of me, selling off stacks of red like nobody's business. Got involved in a hand where I called Andy's raise from the SB with KT dd and flopped KJx, put out a blocker, got raised by Hungarian Andrew, with Andy calling and I mucked because a raise and a call behind a blocker means you're dead. Turn went Hungarian check, Andy bet, Hungarian fold. “At least two pair there,” he says.

“I really enjoy playing with you, you're an excellent player,” I said.

“Not right now, all I've been doing is folding turns,” he responded with some frustration.

“Well,” I said, pointing at my stack, “I guess I don't really have to regret that $150 bluff earlier.”

“At least you know not to bluff me any more,” he said.

Um, hello. GAME ON.

Soon after I look down at A8 hearts and make it 15. Hungarian Andrew makes it 35 or 40. Everyone else mucks. I call because I am suddenly feeling completely crazy and I'm about to play this 3-betting uber-LAG OOP. And I AM A TOTAL MORON. What could go wrong?

Flop comes 6h6d2d. I bet $65. Andrew calls.

Turn comes 10h. I **** around with chips for a bit, stack up 115, and push it in.

Andrew pauses for what feels like an eternity but was probably twelve seconds, and mucks.

And I know I need to leave soon, because I'm going to do something outrageously stupid.

I tighten way the **** up and stick to solid TAG play for a while, and then finally, about 2AM, I decide to pack it in after a solid 7 hours and change. I gave up the speedy stuff so my dreams of a 24+ session will have to wait until a trip where I'm better rested.

On my way out I verified with 6 seat Andy that he had KJ in the hand with he and Andrew where I mucked KT, just for fun, never doubting that I made the right play all day (probably shouldn't have called in the first place). Hungarian Andrew looked at me and I asked him, “wondering about the 662 hand?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Oh, I picked up the flush draw on the turn.”

Weird look. “You mean the flop, there were two diamonds.”

I smiled, and said, “no, I didn't have the draw until the turn.”

He looked like I just took his candy.

***One thing about my game that I don't know how to correct is the protracted period of time between when my decision making ability starts to decline and when I actually start to wind down. At home with a 30 minute drive I sometimes leave at a reasonable time and wind down in the car, and sometimes stay too late, way past the smart time to leave. In Vegas I walk away from the table but inevitably find something outrageously stupid to keep myself from sleeping.

That's exactly what I did here. I had a running joke when playing at PH that I couldn't tell the difference between the hot girls I wasn't going to cheat on my wife with and the hot girls I wasn't going to pay to cheat on my wife with. Now, feeling totally jazzed about my night and super-wired, I did some shots, dropped some money at Bellagio tables, bought a couple girls drinks and then rejected their offers to “get crazy,” and proceeded to dump a healthy chunk of change ****ing around random drunken degening, ADHD wandering through Flamingo/Quad/CR/Harrah's. Boom, -270 from the gamblor/degen budget (deduct the paid drinks from that!)

Walked into Bally's still feeling ridiculous and immediately tried to run over the table. Oops. Blowing through budgeted degen money is one thing, playing bad poker is another. I proceeded to hang out and grind up and down a bit for several hours until, playing 3 handed, I flopped a straight and shoved into a rivered better straight. “Take you bet back,” my very kind villain said, and he meant it. Oops. A few hands later I misread a chopped pot to the same guy (both of us had kings with a pair board and a Q, I mucked my weak kicker), which is literally a mistake I haven't made in 10 years. The next two hands my very kindhearted villain called pre-flop raises and then mucked the best hand, essentially giving me the chop. Once my poker game depends on the kindness of strangers, even drunk me knows I'm done. The table breaking due to insane amounts of construction noise didn't hurt either. I am a moron but at least I knew to get out of the 2-5 game with a strong win. -$335.

It's like 8 in the morning at this point and my buddy Dom, who is a dealer at my less frequented local card room and plays a fair amount at my more frequented card room, gets in in an hour. Time to sleep.

Totals for Day 4: -270 degen, +700 poker.

Trip totals so far: - 200 (roughly) degen, + 1100 poker.

Next up, Day 5 and 6—last full day and time to get on the plane.

Most of the complaints were that they had no cars on arrival, or only one employee working the whole desk. I take it you didn't run into this?

At the local Walmart, the food is as good as or better than the grocery chains.

Our March trip we got stuck with this sexy mini van. Part of the reason I had bookings at 3 different carriers.

[IMG][/IMG]

Like I say, you get what you pay for. Firefly feels like fixable suck.

sent from my smarty-phone

Forgot to mention that my mom always gives me $20 to play slots, which I blew at Binion's drunk while waiting for food with Drew on Day 3, and very likely left my card in the machine. #vegasrube

More on the rental car thing: there are numerous stories (including one in the FAQ thread) of Payless desk people telling people that they have to take full insurance according to Nevada law and basically doubling the price on folks. Which is scummy BS.

When I rolled in, Firefly had no line and other than a half-hearted attempt to upsell me into a different car the process was seamless. Rental cars, for me, are like rooms--I'm barely going to use it, just need to get around.

DSBTO once left her players card in a machine downtown per a story last weekend and got like monthly offers for weekend comps + freeplay + F&B credits for like several months. So hopefully that happens to you too.

That would be awesome.

I know this doesn't belong here but I randomly found myself kidless and obligation free this afternoon and decided to go play cards for a couple hours. I was deep on the waitlist for my usual game and don't play much limit HE any more, so I sat down at a UTH table. Never put up more than 15/15/3 bink $1100 profit.

I need to get back to Vegas before this run good ends. There, that made it relevant. Who do I talk to about changing the title of this thread to "Highballing and Lowrolling: an ongoing TR?"

Allow me to do you a favor: Dollar is the absolute nuts for Vegas car rental.

Go to www.dollar.com and join (free) the Dollar Express thing. You then create a profile w. a password to log into the site. You make the reservation on the site, the rates are the best in town (especially if you go back every few days and check for rate changes), and here is the best part:

When you are an Express member, you don't even stop at the rental car counter. You walk straight through the place, down to the lot and up to the little kiosk. Give the guy your name and show ID, and he tells you what parking spot to go to. Keys are in it. The longest I've ever spent at the rental car facility picking up a car is probably 10 minutes when I had a little run bad and the guy ahead of me at the kiosk didn't have the cc her used to reserve the car.

Rates: I'm coming to town on Tuesday and I got a 'premium' car (Maxima or similar) for $101.xx/week + $14 for one extra day. My total with all taxes and fees for 15 days in a Maxima will be about $380.

One other thing that bothered me about Firefly. They don't seem to have a website or contact. The only way I could see to make (or cancel) a reservation was through Orbitz, etc. So if any problems come up I don't have anyone to complain at.

Used Firefly and booked a Toyota Corolla. They gave me a Nissan Versa instead and told me it was equivalent. That's at least 1 grade below if not 2 - total BS

But the nickels you saved on gas, though!

Yea, that's video poker money...

This sounds like the nuts

That Dollar deal does sound amazing.

Swear the last entry of this TR + postgame assessment will be coming soon, just over tired, working on projects, and also posted an annoying bad-play loss last night which makes me not want to write about poker right now.

Day 5 (and 6): Apocalypse Dudes

I met some pretty awesome people on this trip. I'm a pretty friendly guy and learning and knowing people's names at the poker table is just something I do. Also where they're from, their occupation, address, social security number, and mother's maiden name is helpful. :-)

But folks like the gang from the Omaha tournament, 2+2ers like Katana, Sublyme, and Jockbay, like R from the first night at PH and M from the Binion's tourney, it's all been a good time of immediate and somewhat superficial relationships. Between that, the lack of sleep, and the “oh crap I can't remember the last time I ate something I should have another meal of PowerBars, Red Bull, and Jameson OTR” nutrition plan, I get a little nuts. Not like Marlon Brando Colonel Kurtz “I think I swallowed a bug” nuts but definitely a little bit weird. I tried to combat this anticipated going-native isolation in the trip plan by inviting folks to come with, but most poker guys I knew were between hockey playoff trips and gearing up for WSOP, and honestly, taking a non-gambling friend on a (mostly) poker grinding trip isn't exactly an easy sell.

“So, here's the deal: if you want to hang out with me in Vegas for a couple days, that would be awesome. For about 12 hours of the day, I'm going to totally ignore you. Then, I'm going to want to stay up all night drinking. We also aren't going to eat except maybe some good Thai food. What could be more fun than that?”

Um, yeah, no. Enter Dom.

I've ended up at tables across from Dom numerous times in the last couple years back home, and we couldn't be more opposite in our table demeanor. As a dealer who's obligated to be polite to even the most painfully high-maintenance players in a room that draws them like flies, when he's playing (not in his room) he is a born needle. But away from the table, he's a hell of a nice guy. So we both got pretty lucky that, as things worked out, his place to stay his first night in town for an extended trip including the WSOP casino employee tournament fell through.

Since I literally feel asleep 15 minutes before his flight landed, Dom cabbed to Bally's and binked their AM tournament. Good start. Meanwhile, I pried myself out of bed about 2 PM and started getting my head together while he wandered back from some fast food joint by MGM. Still not nearly enough sleep.

Once we met up and he got settled in, I decided to take him on a walking tour of the strip. We started by wandering into the Flamingo to play a little Pai Gow and have a few drinks, which I have insisted to everyone I know is the absolute best way to get almost free drinks in all of Vegas. Well, unless you're the King Of Run Bad. The Flamingo can eat a bag this trip. The next thing I know, I've managed two drinks and I'm down $200. Dom has also had two drinks and he's up $25. At that moment, I wondered if I was the only person who had ever considered an action deal with a fellow pai gow player.

After that debacle, both of us a little drunk and deeply sleep deprived, Dom and I wandered the strip. I showed him the Bellagio and Aria poker rooms, and then we managed to get to the Walgreen's at City Center so he could buy cigarettes. We then undertook the biggest challenge in all of Las Vegas: trying to get across the street in that part of the strip. This is only notable because as we were trying to figure out how to get across the road, this stunningly cute woman with a British accent stopped us and said, “pardon, but how on Earth do I get across the street? I'm just looking for a Starbucks.”

This is possibly the first interaction I had with a woman the entire week that wasn't a) at the poker table, b) behind a counter, or c) saying “no thank you” to a hooker. It was like I'd found the Holy Grail, and punchy as I was, looking over her shoulder I could see the Starbucks right there, and I said, “I am going to regret this the rest of the day, because you are lovely and I totally want to hang out with you, but there's a Starbucks right over there.”

She smiled, wished us good luck, and we parted ways. Dom looked at me and said, “yo, how do you have those skills?”

Lack of sleep and missing the wife, clearly.

Grabbed an Earl of Sandwich at PH and after I decided that I needed a nap. Dom hit the Bally's room for some cash gaming while I crushed a quick power nap, and then we headed to the Bellagio so I could attempt a repeat performance at 2-5 while Dom played some 1-3.

Stuck in the 9 seat. Hate sitting next to the dealer. Table appeared mostly solid on first review except they were all disgruntled with a single Asian guy who had literally ALL TEH MONIEZ. I mean, stacks, + bills, + sketchily hiding more bills under his phone on the rail, and all from amazing luckboxing.

Wired and tired, I was a bit of a chatty Cathy and mucked a lot, made a solid “show you if you show me” fold to the Asian woman next to ALL TEH MONIEZ, then reciprocated later by pushing her out of a pot on a somewhat ugly flop with top set of kings and showing. Locking in the ultra-conservative nit rep early.
Most of the early part of this game was sadly dedicated to mucking and power-struggling with sucky old Photobucket, with was not cooperating with posting chip porn. Needless to say things were at a solid slightly up place, staying out of marginal situations, and observing players. Overall a usual mix, except for ALL TEH MONIEZ, who was ridiculously luckboxing all over the place, shoving/calling any draw. He was also frequently showing his cards mid-hand next to the passive Asian woman next to him, which initially led me to believe they were together, although that later appeared to not be the case.

Then this happened: in my BB, a cascade of limping, and I look down at J4cc. With minimal investment in a huge pot, OOP, I am more than happy to give up on such trash if the flop doesn't go my way (as we all should be), so I check.

Flop comes 544 two diamonds. I check. ALL TEH MONIEZ bets. He gets callers. As things come back around to me he shows his pretty neighbor his cards, which isn't irritating, but I don't quite have a sense of what it means yet. However, from watching his play, I assume he's on a draw, and he will call a shove, and fine, hell with it. I shove.

ATM doesn't speak much English but every time he's got somebody all in he's itched to flip his cards, so I say, “You want to turn them over like we're on TV?”

Turn comes a 5. He slams his cards to the felt and yells “FULL HOUSE!” and my heart skips a beat until I see Q4. Bellagio dealers are not one to keep the drama going so I only have a nanosecond to register than not only did I not just get beat but I luckboxed my way into a chop when the river hits a jack.

ATM is still looking like the pot is going to get shipped to him when I do the closest thing to a needle I do at the table and tap my jack-for-better-full-house-look-how-good-I-am with my finger.

Ship it. The OMC next to me says, “You just pulled off a miracle against that guy!” and I don't disagree.

Soon the table hits this solid groove, but ATM is still dictating all the action. I found myself thankful for possibly the first time in my life that back home I'm stuck playing this god awful nutpedalling 2-100 spread game where 3 betting preflop against endless calling stations is suicide, because I go into total lockdown mode and look to pick ATM off with flopped mortal nuts. After a couple departures a kid named Ryan gets into the 4 seat just to the left of ATM. He is clearly quite good and I already know how he's going to answer Poppa's quiz so with the combined threat of an insane calling station and a very solid player in the 3 and 4 I jump to the 5 the first chance I get, because it's possibly the best position at the table.

From here, the rest of the game is autopilot. Some people make bad decisions calling me, some people make good decisions folding to me, Ryan and I have a good old time chatting, I am drinking red bull until my face is falling off, ATM gets beat up a few more times by me, Ryan, and a couple others and eventually leaves with his bills but not his chips, the guy to my left gets in an awkward yelling match with a new Asian lady, couple other players leave, we're down to 6, and the new Asian lady says, “well, no more money to be made at this table, let's break.” And it is suddenly clear to me that none of us are particularly casual players at this point.

Table breaks, me with $1700 in play (+$1200 in 4 hours). It was about 11:30 and I played my new table until my BB hit and then grabbed Dom to go for a walk.

Dom seemed to be having an up time at 1-3 but it was time for the noob to go watch the Bellagio fountains. So we stepped outside and watched the fountains, then talked about the next steps. Both of us exhausted, and me with no inclination to learn a new table, we decided that it was time to maximize degeneracy poker-style, so we cashed out, grabbed my car, and headed downtown to play the 1AM $65 tournament at the Golden Nugget.

After buying in, we walked around a little bit so Dom could see downtown for the first time. Binion's poker room was empty (no surprise) but worth checking out for history's sake. Then, we wandered back to take our seats at what ended up being a single table tournament.

Nothing to really note in the tournament except that the players were all mostly weak, and I felt really bad for the kid who was clearly grinding a $65 tournament in the wee hours as part of his overall “I live in Vegas and play poker” nut. Seriously. Speaking of seriously, since I was not taking this game seriously at all, I figured I'd try out some LAGgy nonsense, so I raised IP with a weaker ace (A3) and got some callers. Flopped A45 rainbow checks to me bet and then the BB shoves on me. After some tank talking I flash my A and he flashes his back, and then I think about the two pair draw and the gutshot draw, and call. Turn 7 river 6 and maybe I should still be luckboxing for real money.

Eventually, wasted, in the chip lead with two other guys and once again ridiculous blinds to stack ratio, I suggested a chop with some bonus cash to me and everybody else agreed. Dom was playing cash at this point and, like me, dumbfounded by people who called themselves “pros.” Soon after I demanded that Dom join me in a pilgrimage to the Peppermill, where we attempted to sober up as the sun rose.

Peppermill question: do they make the waitresses stuff their bras there? It sure looks like it.

Our waitress was great except for forgetting my sobriety tomato juice three times. This problem was more than corrected when she apologized for asking me to hand her my water because “I have very short arms,” to which I said, “You're like a very pretty Tyrannosaurus Rex.”

We ditched my rental in the Peppermill parking lot and wandered over to the Riv, where Dom and argued about splitting Red/Black on roulette and played half a shoe of dollar blackjack before exhaustedly calling it a night.

2PM checkout at Bally's was EV+. With only two hours to go, I wasn't into playing any more poker because I don't like playing on a time line, so I decided to plop down and, despite Dom's criticism, try a little Ultimate Texas Hold'em.

At this point I was up about $2500 in poker and down about $450 in gamblor, so my only goal was to work my CET rating a bit and see what my last $150 of gamblor budget would get me. So I bought in for my full roll and proceeded to have an amazing 20 minutes of optimal strategy UTH. Suddenly, I had $600 in profit in front of me and decided this was a sign to call it a day.

I bought 20% of Dom's employee event at the WSOP, had some lunch with him, gave him some parting advice like “don't drink too much and get some sleep” that I am sure he didn't follow, and headed out for the airport.

I'd love to wrap this overly long TR with some reflection but bottom line is that all of my bad times were playing bad games, and the importance of game and room selection was really hammered home on this trip. When I got home I went through another round of tough adjustment back to how games work here, but sweated through, and am rolling along.

I took one shot at a $250 WSOP ME satellite and fell victim to guys who can't fold a flush draw on a paired board, which was disappointing, but I may still head back out for some pre-ME end of June cash game play. We'll see.

Thanks for reading, dudes. Let's all get together sometime so I don't have to sit here playing Bovada 3ups and being annoyed with your awesome trip reports.

BUMP. I'M (gonna be) BAAAAAAAACK. July 4th-July 10th. BOOM.

Back to grind up stacks and avoid life responsibilities eh?