Sad-faced I sit down in the back of the taxi that will take me from the Golden Nugget to the airport for my flight home. Due to the only-to-be-found-in-vegas-service where a guy asks you your destination and then passes that information (for a tip) to the cab driver, there is no need for me to say more than "hello" while the car gets on its way. But while I'm in the mood for a ride in silence, the uselessness of the aforementioned service shows itself as the driver has to ask me which airline I'm on. He's a friendly looking guy with a beard that will shortly be all grey. After telling him my airline and time of departure, he lets me know that there is plenty of time and he will save me some bucks by using local roads. I reply that I'm gonna pay him 50 no matter how we get there. His smile informs me of his disbelieve. But I'm serious about that, since with my very last purchase in Vegas I got a 50$ bill… giving in to superstition, I had decided on the spot that paying the taxi with this bill – the first 50 I have touched on this vacation – is the only way to secure that the poker rungood I had experienced the last two weeks will not be ruined.

Back in the cab the conversation covers the usual topics, one being how we both prefer downtown to the strip and that I should really visit the mob museum. While talking downtown I mention a poker forum on the internet that does not only discuss poker, but also Vegas and that people post trip reports there in which really good food tips are given. On the subject of the mob museum I reply that on this forum there are quite a lot of people how think that Vegas was better while the mob was running it. "SXXX, THE FXXXXXX HELL IT WAS!!" he goes with a big smile "But now corporate America has taken over and wants to squeeze every last dime outta ya!" Now this is my kind of man. He goes on and tells me a hilarious story of a craps table outside the Binions restaurant in 1978 where a 1.99$ steak attracted a long line every day. All this happens while we are stuck in a traffic jam. He informs me that he when he decided to go local roads, he didn't expect them to be this busy. But still he's going to save me 15 bucks. I tell him I really appreciate that and that actually on the mentioned poker forum the first tip for arriving at Vegas is to tell the taxi driver "Not tunnels!". He laughs "Right, tell them to use local roads" and then looks into his back mirror for eye contact "What is that forum called?" "Two plus Two" He smiles at me in the mirror "Two plus two, huh? Now they got some real good advice for you!"

Thinking back at this on my plane home, I decide that my sixth trip provided so many good stories, that I would write them down for 2p2. Hell, my business card claims that I'm an editor, so this is about time, having enjoyed trip reports for several years now. On me: 48yo, based in Munich, Germany, online MTT rec for 8+ pretty profitable (but not life changing) years. My travel companion and poker buddy – let's call him the SocialWorker – lives near Cologne, is 43 and more of a cash game player online. Friends of 20years+ we got asked quite often this trip how this friendship got about. Our honest answer made me feel that "tape trading" must be some very bizarre gay sexual practice to some, while those of you how remember those days are blessed.

We arrived in Vegas April 16, so I'm writing this being back home with a few more free days at hand. Still we will honor trip-report-traditions:

Shoes



Roll (dramatization)




This trip report is probably not going to be in chronological order, I'll just write down the stories I remember – containing poker, food, lively characters, a bit of ganja and at least two remarkable women.

Hope you enjoyed the start to this, but you might be left behind wondering about the title to this TR. I'll get to that in a minute, but something really odd happened before. So I got a direct flight from Munich to Vegas nowadays, which is a true blessing. But for some reason, security measures are way up on my departure day. After checking in, one has to go through airport security with a scan of your bag and you intestines. Now we pass border control and get into the duty free zone. Now usually you can just walk to the gate. But today as I approach the gate, there is another passport and boarding card control, followed by yet another security scan. Having passed that, you need to show your passport and boarding card once more to actually get to your gate. Boy, do I feel safe! Until… Having just met the SocialWorker who has flown in from Cologne to share this flight to Vegas, we sit waiting in short distance of that last control point, when an elderly couple approaches. They are at least mid-70s, she can't walk very well and now they are asked for passport & boarding pass. The next thing I hear is "They are not checked in!" and all hell breaks loose! Some security guys quickly guide them away and I am puzzled at how this is possible.

Having landed save in Vegas despite this obvious security leak, the captain informs us that since this is the first direct flight from Munich, the airports firefighters are here to spray the plane. Having had the pleasure of a direct connection to Sin City less than ten months ago, I feel that this is a bit of a lie. But whatever, being sprayed by a water gun is actually fun and last year might have been another airline. After a really quick immigration and bag collection, the celebrations continue: We are given a McCarren Cookie and lightly dressed show girls are dancing. And while the SocialWorker has accelerated to get outside for a smoke, I tell him that there even is a TV station present, honoring the arrival of german high stakes poker players. Which gets the TV guy laughing and seconds later I find myself holding a mike, answering questions to the camera. I lie blatantly about how much I enjoyed this "first" flight. When the reality was this:



I met one woman who saw that footage on TV, but couldn't tell if I was in it. So, if you have seen a grey haired guy blabbering with accent about his flight to Vegas – that's me! Next posting will contain poker.

Subbed, love how this ends/starts.

Our hotel of choice is the Golden Nugget. I must give public praise to the SocialWorker who found us 14 nights here for a meager 600 Euros. As part of that praise I get us the first two beers of this vacation as we sit down in my room to plan the rest of the day. The only actual discussion point being the order of todays To-Dos: Binions Café and Thrive Dispensary. Binions Café is a ritual from our first visit when we would arrive around midnight and food choices were very limited downtown. Now it's only 4 pm and we have plenty of food options, but Binions Café is not debatable. But since the SocialWorker claims the dispensary is only a mile away and we could walk there, we agree to better do this while the sun is still up. Wise choice as it turns out, since our 40 (!!!) minute walk there got us into places I wouldn't like to be in at night. And as the budtender informs us that they have reduced prices between 12 and 4 am, I feel that 25% cheaper weed is not worth a 50% up likelihood of being shot at. So we finish our very pleasant first time experience of a legal weed transaction in bright daylight.



After some thorough quality control, we're off for Binions Café. Suddenly I can't wait to have my regular Philly-Cheesesteak-Sandwich with fries. Only to be punched hard in the gut when I find out it's no longer part of their menue! This and my first, short glance of what remains of the Binions Pokerroom these days gets me off to quite a sad start in Vegas. We eat in silence and never return…


Somehow it is 10 pm before we finish this sad dinner and head over to the Golden Nugget Pokerroom. My spirits instantly go up again as I see a (short) PLO interest list. No table running yet, but last June PLO here had been an absolute blast! On the downside, there is quite a long list for 1/2. And while the SocialWorker decides to jump into the cash game, I feel 28 hours with no sleep kicking in. So for me it's Lady Indica, who guides me to sleep as expected.

Another of our traditions is visiting the outlets on our first day. Mainly so, cause this nine hour jetlag is a ***** (much worse to me than 12 hours) and while in no condition for serious poker, shopping in the sun is just fine. Had to get this



I support Borussia Mönchengladbach and a few years ago the magical Juan Arango left my Club for Tijuana.

Sitting down at the weekly 80$ PLO tourney at the Orleans that night (forget what I said about poker & jetlag) I'm proudly wearing my new shirt. Handing over my start chips, the dealer smiles and tells the table that he just recently been to a Xolos game and how much he liked the atmosphere at football there, compared to the U.S. The SocialWorker who much to my surprise didn't need any convincing to play this tournament, has a seat directly behind my dealer and instantly joins in, being a big football (No Sir, I'm not gonna use the S-word) supporter himself, a lively discussions on support, ultras and pyros is on the way.

Cut short only by the start of the tournament. Which sees about 30 players in this very nice pokerroom. We both do pretty decent, the SocialWorker busts one seat from the final table while I'm still at it and four getting paid. In one hand while seven-handed I get ATQJds and UTG to my right makes it 7K at 1/2K. Although I got the feeling of playing way to tight during this tournament, where big river bets got called with bottom two e.g., I decide to flat since a 3bet would commit me (avg stack at table must have been 15BBs, as is mine) with 5 players still to act. It folds to the small blind. I will find out later that the lady now 3betting has made a WSOP circuit event final table in a 365$ PLO. UTG quickly folds and I have a decision. Although I take my time, I find a pretty easy fold since stack sizes just don't allow a bluff by her. I believe her when she tells me later that she had AAKQds. And it's with her I play a decisive hand when we are down to the bubble with five players. I open pot UTG with double suited Aces. Stacks are now so shallow, if I get one call I have a pot size bet left on the flop. WSOP-Lady, who is very nice and funny btw, calls in the BB. Flop is 389 with two hearts but none of my suites at all. Now she leads pot. Since it is obvious this tourney is going to be a four way chop as soon as the bubble boy busts, I play this hand for 400 bucks. My call would be allin, finally I tank fold. I play quite a lot of PLO tourneys online but still was very unsure about what her leading range consists here. Maybe sets, top two? Thing is that I feel if she was really strong here, this has to be a check so that I get my Aces in on the flop. Anyhow, this easily scared I finish as the bubble boy in one of the next hands. Having enoyed a couple of Heinekens I claim a non existing street for my hand on the river, but this does not get me the chips. Still a great night, Orleans highly recommended.

Nice the Nit is in!

Subbed euro here! Go Munich!

"Ich schreib deinem Gott 'ne kleine SMS, drin steht kein Wort, sondern einfach 666" This line from a newly released track by Swiss & Die Anderen which I listen to quite a lot in the first days in Vegas, turns out to be somewhat of a prophecy to me since it only takes two days of cashgame and a tourney at the GN for a pair of sixes that flop a set to become my nightmare hand. No less than three times in 48 hours I loose with this holding (or have to give up). Being a tournament player I knew before starting this trip that nothing but dailies would be available this time of the year. This turns out to be even worse as the Binions noon tourney has a whopping three registrations two minutes to starting time. So we skip this and sit down at 1/2 in the GN. I manage to turn my 200 into 410 in about four hours with one big hand I will get back to after the sad story of sets of sixes. With this nice profit I decide to play the 70 bucks GN evening tournament. It's quite the turbo and the jump in blinds from level 5 to 6 and 6 to 7 will crush your stack if you can't manage to accumulate. So turbo in fact that I will play this only on this single occasion. Still I meet my sixes for the first time when I limp them behind three limpers at 50/100. Button makes it 600 to go and four players including me make the call. Flop is K96 with two clubs. With the pot at 3K and about 8K chips behind I want to get in in here real bad. UTG is first to act and leads 500 into five people including the original raiser. Now UTG is quite the character: the SocialWorker marks him as a character from a graphical novel and I have to agree. This guy must have a job in the meat factory in "Preacher". He is mid 50ties, rather short, always (we see him quite a bit this first week) wears shorts with suspenders/braces (whichever word is correct here). His Body is a mountain of muscles and his head as close to square as I've seen. I had also seen him open to 20x with AKo this tournament and shoving 144$ over a 7$ open with JJ the night before in a cashgame. He leads and gets a call, while I make it 3,5K to go. Original raisers folds, Meatman calls and one more fold makes it heads up. With the 4 of clubs on the turn he instantly puts me allin. And I honestly can't read this guy and fold. Which I really don't advise with this structure, since my 5K chips left didn't get me anywhere afterwards. But I didn't pay attention to that, probably should just have pushed on the flop.

The second instance of losing with my set of sixes slips my mind right now, but the third one is very present. I call a raise to 7 in the 1/2 game with my newly befriended sixes, as does the BB, villain in this hand. He had sat down a couple hands earlier and made a quick doubleup with premium holdings. Flop is a rainbow 457 and now the BB leads. I have about 200$ and he covers. His lead is 15 and original raiser folds, while I… call. Big mistake I think, this needs to be a raise. Turn is a 6, yeah right, a set. He now leads small like 20 and now in no position to raise, I call with the boat odds. River is a K and he checks to me. Now I am thinking if I can bet for value here – two pair is surely in his range, as might be worse sets. But since I feel I can't call a raise, I check behind to be shown 93o for the straight. Didn't lose much in that hand and probably played it bad, but now I am annoyed, cause this runbad with sets is a continuation from last summer. Then I played lots of tourneys and recorded only making six sets in three weeks, three of those big hands, where villains flopped better sets. With this in mind I sigh-leave the table for dinner. But this runbad is about to go down in blaze of glory that very same evening! We both get seats at the same 1/2-table and the empty seat to my right is soon filled with a friendly old guy. I don't see any cards for a while and get to talk to him, but when we scratch the high hand jackpots, he seems absolutely obsessed for them. For like 45 minutes has he talked to me about this when I get my sixes again, calling an UTG raise to 8. A rainbow AK6 flop is checked to me. For anybody else, this is now a dream scenario, for me it feels like my stack about to change ownership. Anyway, I bet 15, the SocialWorker in the BB and OR both call. And of course the turn comes flying in with a T, making broadway possible. Again checked to me I bet s smallish 25, with the plan of checking behind on the river. Now SocialWorker folds, but OR makes the call again. Darn. But the river brings in another 6! OR checks to me, I bet 45, he calls. Before tabling I show my jackpot hand to friendly guy next to me, whose face just explodes with joy! I table my quads and OR mucks with an annoyed face. Now SocialWorker and I high five and I wait for the mighty 50$ Jackpot – but my seat neighbor is of course all fired up and seems more excited about this than me. I haven't lost a hand with a set since.

To finish this off, a short look at the big hand I mentioned earlier. This is 1/2 again, I sit down with 200 and get nothing for like two or three orbits. First real hand is KK I get in MP, making it 14 to go after one guy limps. Kid directly to my left calls, as does the limper. On a rainbow J86 flop I make it 20, kid calls, limper folds. He has a set of sixes, right? Now the turn brings a handsome K. I contemplate a checkraise but decide to bet again. That’s because this kid looks to me like a young pro, trying to outplay tourists. The few hands I witnessed on this table, he had made calls in position an than win pots without showdown by not being afraid of big bets and checkraises. So I feel kid is not going to fold to my bet. I make it a big 60, he quickly calls. While thinking about his range here with me having only 130 behind, an 8 on the river gives me top boat. With what I said about Kid, I now feel I should have checked this, cause a bet is very probable. Instead I shove, and to my big surprise he instacalls. Then mucks. A8? 66 on my side now? I scoop a fine doubleup and will never know.

I love this. Cant wait for next post

Deciding that this posting is going to be on food, I cannot help but remember how lucky we are to discuss food options and quality while fellow humans run on a bowl of rice a day or less. Chris Cornells' timeless lyrics from "Hunger Strike"

I don't mind stealin' bread from the mouths of decadence,
but I can't feed on the powerless when my cup's already overfilled.

always come to my mind when the unspoken law of "no religion and politics" is broken at the poker table, and someone asks my about the "refugee situation" in Germany. While scumbags like Alex Jones never stop at portraying Germany as a failed state where hordes of arab men roam the streets pillaging and raping, I tell my fellow poker players quite a different story. It includes a scene when the first refugee trains arrived in Munich and so many locals turned up with food, clothing and toys for the kids, that the police had actually to turn most of them away – that many people showed up. I tell them that our new government just decided that there is no need for new public debts till 2022. That for every Nazi-Aufmarsch there are at least twice the number – often quadruple and growing – of opposing protestors. I can only wonder silently at how easily my generation is willing to give up workers rights that our grandparents fought for on the barricades, but on this subject I will always raise my voice. Human rights are not defined based on what strip of land you are born on! Or, as Suicidal Tendencies told me on their epic album "Lights, Camera, Revolution" The greatest weapon of the fascist is the tolerance of the pacifist!

With this I mind (if you havn't put me on your ignore list by now) it's no surprise that this



gets our mouths salivating while crossing North Las Vegas Boulevard for some great food. I am really surprised at how many downtown regular vacationers I meet that never do this. Today we drag Oscar from San Diego across this border. Oscar attends a convention in the GN and at some point starts talking Blutwurst on the poker table once he knows I'm from Germany. We talk "Bizarre Foods Germany" for a while (half the table seems shocked at how popular horse is in the traditional german kitchens). But in the end Oscar is surprised to learn that Indian food is nowadays way more popular that horse and that we are going to have some tonight. He asks to come along and we sit down here



Oscar, who is my new best friend since he estimated my being 42 and thinking my hair being dyed, has actually never eaten indian food and lets the waiter explain to him, what a curry is. But Oscar is a great guy, very open minded he asks us a lot of questions about life in Germany. Although some of the question really fit the negative clichés we have in Germany about US-citizens and their knowledge of our country, the conversation is great fun. Also he is a big techno dude, and despite not really liking this scene, minds that have a passion for music will always be a great talk. Finally Oscar decides on his curry and goes quite spicey on a scale the restaurant offers from 1 to 5 for each dish. I like this method a lot since I don't like my food so spicey that I will kill all other tastes. But Oscar is soon to learn that indian spiciness operates on a whole different level than mexican food! He his soaked in sweat as he finishes this (pic 2 & 3 are SocialWorkers and my choice):







Indian food is not for the cameras, but having eaten in dozens of similar joints in Germany, I must give the highest praise to this – excellent taste and quality.

The SocialWorker and I return to East Freemont District quite a lot for eating. On one occasion we hit Le Thai where we couldn't get a seat on our last visit. SocialWorker is not that happy with his food but admits it's still a solid 7 of 10, while I get some grounded beef with a delicious sauce and a fried egg on top which is awesome. Whatever you think to thai food, if you sit down in a restaurant where it seems there are more people working in the kitchen than guest sitting at the tables, that can't be a bad sign. Another occasion leads us to "Therapy". That evening we are undecided on what to eat and as we pass by, the SocialWorker mentions he could do with a burger, we hop right in. SocialWorker gets a regular burger, which is just fine, but my choice is the "Bonemarrow Burger". Welcome to a new world of taste and juiciness in a burger! Highly recommended.

The last place I'd like to include here is not even beyond N LV Boulevard: Nacho Daddy. One evening we are craving for Mexican food and google "Tacos + Downtown". Half a dozen places show up, but the one with the really silly name has a straight 5-star rating on Yelp – Nacho Daddy. After two visits this vacation, I'm with the five star gang:







SocialWorker eats vegan whenever possible and is very, very happy with the broad choices he gets here. While me gets hard shell tacos. All food is top notch. With one exception: on our first visit we order guacamole with chips for starters. Now this really lacks everything, starting with salt. On receiving the bill, I mention this to the waiter. He misunderstands me at first and thinks it was too spicy for us and goes into detail about what different seasonings are in there. Well, now the SocialWorker points out that someone must have forgotten all these. In the end it's taken of the bill, which really wasn't my objective. Furthermore I fear that the information that someone made a small mistake never reached the kitchen. But don't let that turn you away from the place, sitting outside with a margarita while the sun sets is a great way to start your evening. And just to close this posting how we started, it's back to music when we visit Nacho Daddy for the second time: today our waiters right arm is covered with the logos of punk rock bands. As I point out to him recognizing The Descendants and Misfits, he starts to explain the rest with a light in his eyes. And after the SocialWorker shows off his "Sick of it all" tattoo, service is beyond excellent.

I struggle to find good Mexican. Seems the “nice” places are trying too hard and the fast casual joints are usually a mess. Need to check out nacho daddy

I forgot a fun detail from the Oscar story worth mentioning: Oscar has two little kids and since he is in Vegas not by his own choice, keeps in close contact with his wife. As we leave the indian restaurant, Freemont Street is in full party mode with the giant screen and its sound system blasting away. Now Oscar decides to skype his wife once more. And at one point during this call decides to show his wife his new german friends. So images of the SocialWorker and me half drunk and mildly stoned dancing on Freemont are transmitted to Texas. My bet is that his wife now wonders why her man can't do hookers & blow in Vegas like a regular guy. Afterwards Oscar goes to great lengths to get us three seats at the same 1/2-table in the GN. Only to lose his stack to the SocialWorker with a set of 8s on a Q98 flop with my friend holding JT. Another lesson on Germany for Oscar.

Having arrived on a Monday, the first week sees us playing mostly 1/2 at the GN. My original plan to head for the strip several times to play the Aria or Venetian dailies is never set into practice since I feel more and more comfortable with 1/2. Up to Friday we have played eight sessions, most of a the time a daily and a nightly one, with me recording three session up 200, three even and two losing about an hundred. So for my standards I'm pretty happy with the outcome so far. With the GN not being very busing during the week there are sessions when we sit down at the same table. In a shared cigarette break on one of those, the SocialWorker berates me to complete more in the SB after several limpers. While on the topic of pot odds I have no argument against this, I still play a very tight range from the SB. First reason being that I don't really play cash other than in Vegas. So to be involved in pots from the worst position isn't very appealing to me. While I keep that to myself, I still argue with the SocialWorker that one is always OOP with mostly marginal holdings. And furthermore if you make a big hand, it's hard to realize equity. That being said I find myself completing T4 of diamonds in the SB only shortly afterwards. Let's see if the SocialWorker has a point here! Flop comes QJ9 with one diamond. It's checked to the button who makes it 10 to go. Flop bets are one thing in 1/2 I definitely had to get used to as people will often fire 15 bucks at a 9$ pot. In this instance it's only a pot sized bet which for me as tournament player this is still odd. But then you don't get 6way limped pots in a tourney on a regular basis. Or things like five limpers, the button makes it 20 only to get five callers and a bloated pot preflop. Back in the hand I make the call with my open ender as does one guy in MP. Turn brings the K of diamonds, a very pretty card. Checked to the button again, he makes it 20 to go. With the button only playing 45 bucks more I elect to flat this. But then MP surprises us with making it 60! And when the button calls this, I feel the strength of my hand dwindling down. MP has us both covered. You might have noticed the buttons complete ignorance of stack sizes here. Just another thing one has to get used to at this game. I know that I am supposed to think in ranges but MP will have AT here 99% of the time. But I still have to wonder about buttons holding when I call the raise. I do this mainly because none of them can have AT of diamonds for the nuts with nuts redraw. River brings a third diamond for my flush. But with the action I decide to check/call this. MP checks as well and button throws his last 5 bucks in the pot. Since MP has checked he is unlikely to call a raise here, so I just call as does MP. When I scoop this nice pot, the SocialWorker smiles at me with a big "told you so!".

This and similar hands I win leave me wondering if I get enough value out of my winning hands. First off, feeling a noob at this game I choose the cautions path. And, as I tell one villain after another hand where I just call the river with a queen high flush, maybe I play to much PLO where bets and raises on the rivers are very nutty. And then there are hands like this to teach me a lesson: While being pretty tight in the SB, the button is a whole different story. Here I call a raise with 63 of heats from an UTG raise as does the BB. Flop is QJ4 rainbow and gets checks around. Turn brings a 5, giving me an open ender. After another three checks a 7 falls on the river for my straight. BB makes it 10, UTG calls. Now I'm after value here and make it 35. When BB makes it another 35 I puke since I know he has 86 but still cannot fold. 86 it is and I am once more left wondering about value.

Just as in this hand where I will leave our move open for discussion – let's hear it from the cash gamers! In this instance UTG raises to 12, button calls as do I with A7 of hearts. Flop is 852 with two hearts and is checked around. Turn brings the T of hearts, Gin! I check UTG makes it 15 and now button clicks it back to 30. Heroes move??? At this point we have close to 200 behind with both villains covering us. UTG is a loose gambly type who lost a 500$ stack only to replace it with a new one shortly before this hand. He views us a ultra tight due to the fact we had gotten AA twice in the first ten minutes at the table which we both showed down and then not playing for like an hour due to bad cards. His view is so extreme, it's funny: in a hand shortly before this I limp/call his raise OOP with QJs, flop comes QT5, c/c, with a 2 on the turn I fire he calls, but check on the river A. As does he with AJ since he put me on a set of queens. Yeah, right. Back in the hand in question button is a good, tight aggressive player I my view with a big skill advantage on your regular 1/2 tourist. So, what's the best move with our nut holding?

Ok, I get it, boring old men playing poker doesn't get the attention of todays short-focused social media crowd, so let's do it like Slim and go celebrities! Well, sort of. Our first encounter is the Duke of Freemont. Most people kinda frown when he sits down in his tailor-made suite, more gold on his right hand than Parker Schnabel has found in eight seasons of Gold Rush and at least 20000 BBs deep in cash. Of course he is a showoff who is not really playing poker, but I don't mind since he knows that we know and is therefore just a really nice guy at the table. Only when he hits on (as in flirting, right? This is not my first language) the nice Lady on my left only seconds after she cracks my Aces, I sort of join the negative vibe towards him for a minute.

Another occasion sees me getting a seat at GNs 1/2 with The Trooper to my direct right. I don't really follow his videos or the discussion here on them, so for a couple of minutes I'm not quite sure. But in the end his "Go Gamble" cap gives it away. In less than two hours we both run over the table and when there is not enough space left on the poker table for all the chips and bottles of champagne, we decide to hit the strip club where… This story, if reality, would end at this point anyway, cause as I see it, the only strip club on Freemont has been torn down. So I sit with him for like two hours, watch him play a tight aggressive game and basically break even. I only get involved with him once when I fold to a cbet on the flop. But I wonder why he keeps playing the only other guy at the table who might be a pro. Maybe cards dictate this play, maybe he knows the guy. I still find it odd to do so, when there are clearly more soft targets at the table.

Now our first Friday is 4/20 and brings "Las Rageous" to Downtown. I can actually see the Heavy-Metal-Festival from my room. But as the stage is not included in this view, the SocialWorker and I decide around 9pm to leave the Duke and head over to see Clutch. This is one of the really cool things about Vegas, a festival just popping up in some parking space, a hotel that fills with longhaired people in black tshirts for two days – and still business is just as usual. And as we cross the road to watch the show from the entry of the 4Queens parking lot, we are reminded that besides Metal there is also the world's biggest Rockabilly & Hotrod convention in town.




Clutch deliver like they always do. At one point singer Neill Fallon asks the crowd if they remember what is was like to be afraid with a couple of grams of weed in your pocket. The people respond with a giant roar that is a celebration of this victory over the most stupid of all prohibitions. It is after all the 20th of April! Being german this date has a very ironic twist: see, 4/20 is close to unknown in Germany, even the toughest of stoners have probably never heard of it. But it is also… Hitler's Birthday. While reading on Twitter that those *******s "celebrating" this in some small town in eastern Germany get a real swift kick in the butt as usual, I imagine a Monty Python sketch where the two groups meet.

Later I return on my own to see A Perfect Circle. SocialWorker doesn't like them and sticks to the cash game, while I really, really enjoy the show. The band has just released their first album in 14 years. I didn't keep count on that but am still shocked how fast time has lapsed. Somedays I feel that I shouldn't be dressing like a skate punk at 48 anymore. Well, I might if the kids get their own bands. All those 20yo olds who still listen to the same bands I did. Hell, the next day of the festival will bring Saxon & Judas Priest on stage who were outdated when I saw my first metal show. But then again, old guys rock, and Maynard James Keenan is one of the great voices of my generation who still nails songs like "Outsider" and "Pet". We will meet him again in the most insane story about Vegas I have to tell.

Alright, alright, stop screaming and shouting, I will do that insane story next. Mark the word insane and remember that this story is part of my Magical Friday I will get back to. So I'm at 1/2 again a leave the table for a cigarette break. SocialWorker has just lost his stack with KK and had decided it's sativa time for him. As I lite my American Spirit, a woman sees me do so and asks for one since these are her favorite ones. I offer her one and we talk briefly before I return to the table. By now she knows I'm german and have to agree with her thesis that her name could be german (I will disclose this name as a security measure…). You know, the usual five minute talk you get in these kinds of situations.

I play for an hour more, than cash out at the poker desk. When about to leave for my room, she is still sitting at the video poker bar and now signals me to come over. Being a good boy I comply and she kindly asks me for another one of those American Spirits and I comply once more. Well I think, might as well have one myself and we get to talk again over our second shared cigarette. Now for the complete image on what is about to happen, I have to tell you that she was dressed really nice in cocktail dress and a leather jacket. She is also quite pretty with a really great smile. Also she is in no way intoxicated as far as I can tell. Now I know my Hooker-Hunting-Thread and a single woman who sits alone at a bar without a drink, smiling at an older guy is without reasonable doubt, well, a hooker. But the first thing she tells me that she is 47 and waiting for her phone to fully charge. Don't know about the phone thing, but the first part doesn't seem very hookerish to me. Much more so since she looks way younger. It's all the same to me anyway since I only share a cigarette with her before steaks at Vik & Anthonys for Dinner.

She lets me know she lives in northern California and likes to smoke medical ganja. And laughs when I tell her that the first thing SocialWorker and I did after arriving, was to score some legal weed. As we talk she checks her phones' charging quite often. This seems important to her. As she does so for like the fifth time, she suddenly changes the subject and talks music while opening YouTube. Now I'm close to being bored by simple experience, cause I don't expect anything from her on this topic that would come even close to mildly interest me. I know this sounds arrogant, but with the kind of music I listen to and the level of devotion I put into that, I can't smile at people who "just love Helene Fischer". So I am more that surprised when the first band she mentions is White Zombie – the only band I took a tshirt from with me on this vacation. She goes on with Social D, Godsmack and other really great stuff. On YouTube she open Rammsteins' "Du hast" and I explain to her what that song is all about. It takes a while, but she gets the wordplay in the end.

Did she really just mention being a former exotic dancer? I offer her another cigarette. Now, for any regular guy in Vegas this would have gone something like this: talk five minutes more, offer her some of the nice ganja you have in your hotel room and then some casual sex. At this point we meet Maynard James Keenan again as she starts talking Tool. I don't notice the changes in her face at first, but she starts talking quite a bit faster now – about her close friendship with Keenan. I am baffled. She informs me that a lot of celebrities want contact with her and shows me some contact list very briefly. Then it's Chris Cornell and what a shame his passing was. I really think so, too. But know she lowers her voice to let me know that his wife killed him because the Obamas & Clintons told her to!

You know, she talked very fast in english and up to this point I wasn't sure what was going on. She shows me her phone again and tells me it needs to be charged here, cause her purse was stolen. Don't see the logic in that, but a stolen purse is not very nice anyway. As she mentions not being able to get her hands on money till Tuesday, the feeling that this is about (my) money returns. But I shouldn't have worried about that, as things go really downhill now. She claims to have been on the phone with the FBI on her stolen money & ID. They hung up on her, because she is on a black list at the FBI. Next sentence informs me that the US government stole ten years of her live. For the next ten minutes this conversation goes on, she will repeat this several times without going into detail. But Obamas/Clintons are responsible for that, they are her enemies! While of course, the Trump family is her ally. From imagining casual sex my mind changes the subject to "possible escape routes" while she is firing her stories at me now faster than ever.

She just rented an apartment in Cali which belongs to the Columbian Cartel and they are tight with Obamas/Clintons and now she has to get out. She has many enemies, since she is a good, a white witch. In this function she just recently had a talk with the spirit of Bob Marley ("everything is gonna be alright!"). Also Archangel Michael blessed her right hand. Now that would have come in "handily" on the subject of casual sex. But her main topic really is how the Obamas/Clintons are after her and the Trumps try to protect her. She tells me how nice they are and that she babysitted Barron just four weeks ago. I nod once more and now feel I really need to get away from this.

All of a sudden there is a new facebook message for her, highlighted on her phone. I'm not on Facebook myself so I couldn't tell if it was the legit messaging app, but my white witch had just received a "How are you, dear?" from… Melania Trump. She shows me the screen while typing that she is just having a cigarette with a guy from Germany in Vegas and Melania gives a thumbs up.

Only in Vegas!

Very nice write up. Your stories are interesting and it is great to get a German perspective. On the A7hh hand I probably lead the flop and the turn but as played a call the $30 bet and look to lead or check raise the river depending on history with villains.

Also will have to check out Nacho Daddy, thanks for the recommendation.

Enjoyed.

Not being snarky and would let this go ordinarily but, as an editor you might appreciate that the spelling is 'Fremont'. Named after the famed American West explorer John C. Fremont. His name is applied to many places in USA#1.

Several downtown streets bear explorer names.

Nice TR, thanks!

I still would’ve tried to hook up with the crazy chick.

That's some 10/10 crazy. Yikes.

Congrats for writing such a good TR in your second language. I don't think people appreciate how much more time-consuming it is than doing so in your native tongue.

I'm siding with not hooking up with the crazy chick.

Also you did use the term “hitting on” correctly

I probably give psycho chick a hundred to keep the crazy **** coming

I had to read it a few times. Did you actually meet Maynard? Or just talk about him?

Ouch, that one hurts. Once since I love the place so much I should know better and second it's just the thing that will happen with my magazine, when you have a flawless article in which you then find find instances of "Mircosoft".

More tomorrow, today I'm a roadwarrior.

Nah, just talked. Don't know about her, tough

Villain nods in understanding when I show my AK on an allin river after he tables his boat. In fact the whole table seems to agree that I could hardly have gotten away from this. Still, I just managed to bust in my very first hand of the 150$ Binions Saturday tournament. After a week at the 1/2 tables I had been looking forward to return to some tourney action, so the SocialWorker and I sit down in what hardly can be described as a poker room anymore – it's just tables randomly arranged somewhere in the casino. We are up late today, so we cancel the original plan of playing at the Aria. Also there are fond memories of Binions, the place of my only live tournament win to date. Also, when we register half an hour late, there are close to 40 players, which is a big up from our last experience here. As soon as I sit down at my table and receive my stack, I have to post the BB. UTG+1 limps at 100/200, CO makes it 800 to go and I look down at AKo. Since I find much merit in the new trend of 3betting big, I contemplate making it about 3K. But with a starting stack of 15K I decide to be a little trapy and flat, as does the limper. On a A97 board CO cbets, I call, limper folds. Turn A sees another bet from MP and my call. On a 3 on the river I decide to lead to not allow MP to check behind. Instead he pushes, I call and bust. Ah well. Maybe that push (he had 77) should not be called that easily, but having underrepped my hand in a 150$ tourney vs some random guy, I feel this is not a bad call. SocialWorker hangs in there for four hours more but can't make the money. He later complains about the button ante they use at Binions. Sure, it's tough when you are short, but in general it should speed things up.

We revisit the Orleans Tuesday PLO tourney. This time it sees 60 runners, which I find impressive. We both bust somewhere around 20th place and there are really no noteworthy hands this time. Just wanted to put this in for anyone seeking non-NHLE-games. This is your place! Wednesdays sees an 8-Game-tourney, Thursdays it's PLO8 and Sundays HORSE. Next time around I'm gonna play that 8-Game one.

The day before my departure sees me sitting down at the Sunday 125$ at the GN. Due to some weird flight schedule, SocialWorker has left Vegas the day before, but by now I find myself surrounded by known faces from the cash game tables. This really is the ultimate OMC-tourney, the average age easily passing the 60 year mark. And you really know that you can throw all your wisdoms on good tournament play in the trash can when a guy sits down on your left who is literally playing his first tournament ever! At about 75 he knows his poker, allright, but the guy to his left has to explain what to do in every single hand. At some point we both have to help him, but still he manages to chip up a little with two early sets (from which he gets ridiculous low value). So when I raise KJo in the CO and he flats on the button, I vow to play this cautious as he will not let me know when he has a big hand. With an A on the flop I cbet and he calls. With no improvement to my hand I basically give up and it goes c/c, c/c. He then tables KK.

GN uses the same structure for all of their tourneys, just your starting stack varies. Today it's 15K, the daily 70$ sees a 10K stack and the daily 50$ only 5K. The last of those comes with a 34 percent rake, and as much as I like playing here, that is insane. Back at the table I hang in there, but can't make anything big happen. So with 18K at 300/600 I'm not struggling but know I need some chips soon to go deep here. Chance comes when UTG pushes his 10K stack in the middle I find red Aces. After some hollywooding I say "Call" to the dealer, who tosses me an Allin-button. Everybody else folds but I am still annoyed at this dealer error. But she then goes on to deal me a set of aces on the flop vs villains nothing with KQs. Only to witness a runner runner flush. Down to 11 BB.

Now I'm in what we germans call the Scheißegal-Modus. Blinds go up and I'm down to 8BB when an Old Lady Coffee takes the seat to my right. Shortly before the break, she makes a minraise on the button and I shove my A5s. To my surprise, she folds. This is not something you find online a lot: when she raises her button I should have zero percent fold equity in this spot with only 8 bigs. First hand after the break it folds around to her in the SB and sees her limp. I find K7o and shove, she folds and now gets real grumpy about why I always shove on her, that she should limp a monster next. I tell her shoving is the only move I have with my stack, but she is just real ambitious. The very next hand it gets folded to me in the SB and I shove T9s on the guy who doesn't know tournaments. With about a BB less than me, he quickly calls with 22 – as he should. After all five cards are dealt I start to take my remaining stack of a mighty BB back, when the dealer suddenly pushes to whole pot my way. Oh right, that six is diamonds, not hearts, I made the flush. Me and my sixes are best buddies by now. Stack up at about 20 BBs I inform the grumpy lady that I no longer need to shove on her. But she has absolutely no mind for friendly talk. Even after I fold the very next hand (43o) to her raise and tell her "See? I folded". No, all humor and irony is lost on her.

I take out another guy shortly after with a push of JJ vs his T9s in a BvB situation with him on about 8 bigs. Flop is an unfavorable 872 with two of his suite. But I dodge all of his outs and we are now down to 12 players. It might seem I won a lot of chips by now, but with blinds going up to 1/2K I play only about 30K. Then the chipleader opens in the CO to 5K with me in the BB and 55. Now this is the only hand of the day I feel I didn't play my best poker. Of course this is an instapush online. But in this situation I know that the guy knows what he is doing (and will not open a hand in the CO which can't stand a 15BB push) so I elect to flat. Flop of Q82 going c/c. Now with another 8 on the turn I should have lead. Instead after another c/c an Ace shows itself on the river. To my surprise he checks his AK behind. He must have been really afraid of a trap by the small stack.

Final table on the horizon, grumpy old lady shoves a little bit more that I have. But I also have AA again. But alas, again I have to witness a runner runner flush for her A4s and I'm out 11th. For half an hour I fell sick, cause getting your aces cracked twice in a tournament won't help a deep run. But overall I feel I played close to my best that day and really enjoyed this one. After two weeks of very good 1/2 I got a reminder why I like the excitement of tournament poker.

How about you join in my soundtrack for this vacation? Here are some german songs I listen to in Vegas. Hope you like them, and if not, remember that if you ever want to score a cute little german punkrock chick, you will be glad to have read this.

First song has got to be "Steffi Graf" by Zugezogen Maskulin, germanys hottest rap-act. This is a first cause Steffi lives in Vegas now, but the lyrics give no clue why the song is named after her.




Second choice is a fantastic coming-of-age song by Kettcar "Benzin & Kartoffelchips".




Next are BRETT with "Das mit dem Hund tut mir leid". I know close to nothing about these guys, but they show that bluesrock from germany is possible! And boy, that kid has got some voice.




Now ZSK with "Herz für die Sache". If some many remain silent, we gotta scream even louder!




Last song is a cover version from one of germanys most popular rappers Bushido, performed by "Herr Trüstedt & Herr Wiedermann" - "Eine Kugel reicht". Hang on in there till the end of verse two where the singer gives me goose bumps!



Enjoy!

"Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run, but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant."

Hunter S. Thompson never mentions the struggles one has to go through to rent a car. But my attorney advises patience as the guy behind the counter endlessly punches his keyboard to fill a form in a software that was written circa 1963. Of course it's not the first time I witness this, but am still perplexed by the amount of time it takes – if you are third in line here, you better had brought a book. So as the couple fifth in line frowns and gets loud about having to be somewhere in an hour, I wish I could offer them something relaxing out of the well-equipped trunk of a Ford Mustang.



When we finally board that specific car, I feel naked. Several times my attorney has warned me that this is of course bat country. My efforts to purchase a flyswatter were at a high when I found a back scrubber the afternoon before. But the 10 bucks necessary for my defense are scooped by the SocialWorker to get a sixpack, which is just as well. Therefore completely unarmed I take the passenger seat in our very nice convertible. Two minutes into the drive the SocialWorker starts complaining that driving without gear change is boring. Well, my bet is that we have more serious problems (bats!).

We head out of town towards red rock. Drugsaroundtheworld.com had informed me that this scenic drive is the perfect companion to acid. As I inform my attorney about this, we sadly find that none of us had booked the "Party Trunk" option. This is just the thing that happens when you travel with weed-lovers! Left with no chemical alternative, I sit back and enjoy car & nature.





Survival must be our single goal in this hostile environment! So I take charge of the driving, find the "Sports"-gear and put the pedal to the metal. We just get out of there before sundown, when surely the darkness will awaken the most horrible of nightmares and allure them out of their caves. But I give no thought to that since driving this thing is real fun. And bats can't follow 80mph, right?

As we enter the town again and pass the first casino, I am more confident than ever to get out of this alive. But now the SocialWorker demands a visit at Walmart. He needs to supply his customers back in Germany with a powder so rare, we were not able to score it anywhere yet. A big smile on his face indicates me ten minutes later that he had in fact gotten his hands on two pounds of Gatorade! Well done, sir! I choose an even more rare item: Caesar Dressing. One of the best tips I have for you if you ever travel Germany: Don't get a Caesar Salad. Never. Really never. Noone here has any clue on how to do this.

"A little bit of this town goes a very long way. After five days in Vegas you feel like you've been here for five years."

Thanks for breaking up the walls of text in that last post, much more enjoyable to read that way.


nice stories.