VPC Went Vegas Day 2; Vegas Bound!

Mike McDermott: “This is the one time I don't need you to tell me how I f*cked up, I know I f*cked up, what I need from you is water, I need whatever water and Ibuprofen you can give me.”

That’s pretty much how I feel at 7AM in the morning. Hungover less than ten hours after departure and a three and a half hour nap before a long travel day. Perfect. Baars is no mood to get up just yet. Baars woke me around 5AM when he was let into the room by hotel security wearing nothing but his boxers…

I wake Baars up at least five times before I head out. I tell him he has 20 minutes until the shuttle brings us to Schiphol. “Twenty minutes? You act like the room is on fire. Chill.” Oke. See it yourself. When the shuttle pulls up at the front of the hotel I give Baars one last call, clearly waking him up again.

Me: “The Shuttle is here’’.
Baars; “Well… I’m not”
Me: “I know that”
Baars; “Hmmm”

The six of us shuttle into Schiphol Airport side betting on whether or not Baars will make the flight. Baars is my official travel partner but I proceed to check in by myself. After I obtain my boarding passes I call our boy again and find out he somehow made his way into a shuttle bus that is about to leave the hotel. I decide to wait at check-in mostly because I give a drunk toddler a better shot at making it through customs on his own than Baars. I specifically tell Baars to meet me at the automated check-in poles in front of desk 36.

Baars doesn’t show until I spot him at the check-in desk behind me making ‘how the hell I’m I supposed to know that’ gestures at girl behind the counter. I know for sure Baars didn’t check-in manually because there is no way he would have figured out the machine on his own. I try to make my way over to him but I can’t come closer than like 30 feet. I signal the check-in lady to let Baars turn around. Baars finally sees me and screams “Where are we going? Chicago?” Oh boy…

I see the lady asks Baars another question while I walk around the back side of the check-in desk on my way to customs. Baars looks at her for a second and grabs his phone… I make my way over to the desk and take care of the check-in procedures advising Baars to just STFU.

Nothing sums Baars up better than the following; he complains about not having had breakfast about ten times before departure while having passed at least a dozen restaurants and then proceeds to order an iced coffee at Starbucks when he wanted a hot one. When Iebus says he’s going to grab a bite to eat Baars stands beside him with his classical helpless look and shrugs his shoulders. When Iebus returns with a simple slice of pizza about ten minutes later Baars looks at the slice and Iebus as if they were a Maria appearance here at Schiphol Gateway. Hugo tells him there is no time left to get slice now and Baars storms off pissed barely making United Flight 59’s last call.

En route finally. I’m a little shocked by the 10:14 hour flight duration as I thought it was only a ~ 9 hour flight towards Houston. The first hour of the flight I tab Baars shoulder every five minutes and point at the remaining flight length. Baars cracks me up by giving me this look every single time;

The flight towards Houston is decent. I obviously refuse every form of airplane food and The Martian (***) and Black Mass (*****) help me through the first stages of the flight. At the end of the flight we discover the in-flight entertainment poker game offers multiplayer options and not long after the cards are literally in the air at a $ 10,- stake. Variance shows its ugly side as Damvic proceeds to bink three out of the four tourneys.

We were supposed to have short lay-over in Houston but United changed their schedule and we’re now looking at a four hour wait. Not that anyone would be able to make a < 2 hour lay-over in Houston. The custom rituals are just ridicules. It also takes me less than 10 minutes to be fed up with the average American. There are quite a few things I don’t particularly like about the average American but one thing that really bugs me is the fact that a lot of them like to openly criticise their colleagues or show – minimal - seniority. The job market may very well be more cut throat in the States than in Europe but doing that still makes you a d*ck.

A nice burger at Ruby’s Dinner and Damvic blocking his bank account - forgot to activate outer EU usage - has spirits lifted until the screen shows our Vegas flight is delayed by another hour due to an extra security check. The flight itself is uneventful at best. No in-flight entrainment, a middle seat and it’s hot as f*ck. However, as always all travel misery is forgotten quickly once you set foot on Vegas soil.

Our taxi driver doesn’t neglect the ‘No Tunnel’ advice and about $ 15,- later he pulls up to our home for the coming eight nights; Excalibur Hotel & Casino. The $ 20,- trick gives us the option for a bigger room or a room with decent Strip view. We go for the latter;

After a swift shower it’s off to the ATM and poker room to light the first dollars on fire. There are no open seats at the Excalibur 1-2 game so I put my name on the list. However, I didn’t come to Vegas to wait for freaking seats and I’m anxious as f*ck to get into action. After five minutes I want to make my way to MGM to jump into a game when I hear the lovely words ‘Robburd for 1-2 No Limit’.

Fifth trip to Vegas and I’m still blown away by the level of play here at the micro stakes. It’s a classic ‘lock the doors’ kind of game with not a single capable player at the table. I need a little time to adjust to these ranges though. I open black aces for $ 10,- and get 3 callers. There is a $ 25,- donk bet and min raise to $ 50,- when it gets back to me. The flop shows 5h 6h 7h. Hmmm. I give up and see 7Ts scoop the pot.

The waitress is fast and that’s all that really matters on a first night in Vegas anyway. The Corona’s are piling up as my game deteriorates from A to my slobby D game. Around three in the morning I’m losing pots that I actually thought I had won. I check my TT over pair on the river ready to snap call as I’m fairly sure villain has a busted flush draw. Villain checks A4s behind on the two spade board and I ‘berate him’ – it’s a very friendly game – for not bluffing the river. Imagine my surprise when the ~ $ 150,- pot gets shipped to Villain. I didn’t see the 2, 3 and 5 that were out there somewhere… Nice value check, sir.

Around five in the morning I call it a night and fix the ~ $ 50,- poker loss by binking a 14 on the roulette making the first night a small winner. As per usual on the first night only Hugo seems to be up and running at this hour. Bozzie and Iebus went to bed around 1AM and I don’t see Jelzo or Wum in the poker room either. I haven’t seen Baars and Damvic at all this first night. I join Hugo to his room because I enjoy waking Bozzie up in the middle of the night. However, Damvic is in the other bed as the roommate situation got switched back to its original shape apparently. Being in bed doesn’t stop Damvic from joining Hugo and me for a ‘Run Good Shot' of a local drink that Hugo brought with him.

After the shots I make my way to my room. Or so I imagine. I can’t remember the exact room number but I’m pretty sure I can narrow it down to like four rooms. My key card disagrees. No doors open and I’m pretty tilted. I make my way down when I realise I’m probably in the wrong tower. I spend the next 40 minutes going through every f*cking tower basically trying every room on the 15th floor. No luck. I go back to registration when I remember what the correct tower might be. I passed Dicks Last Resort on the way to the tower right after check-in so I head in that direction. I nearly explode when I can’t get a single door to open on the floor once again. Finally Baars answers his phone and opens a door about 60 feet to my left. Home sweet home.