Like a miracle Air Canada gets us to Frankfurt alive and well. We all get a discount voucher because the inflight entrainment didn’t work properly. Since I’m not interested even if the discount is 200% I don’t even accept the voucher. We have 50 minutes to make our Amsterdam flight which is quite a challenge since Frankfurt International is humongous and I’m dragging world traveller Baars along with me. I don’t particularly like Germans. Not the people themselves but the language always gets me on tilt. I live 500 meters from the German border so I hear more than my fair share of German and it’s impossible to be friendly in that language. If they apologize for like bumping into you they say “Verzeihung”. Except they say “VERZEIHUNG!!!!” which makes the hairs in neck stand up straight.
One thing you have to give the Germans though; they’re effective as f*ck. They should send the entire personnel from Houston International on a field trip to Frankfurt and see how things are done properly. In less than 20 minutes we went through passport control, customs and about five miles of airport. Impressive. They also manage to get our suitcases on board the Amsterdam flight on time.
Lufthansa brings us to Amsterdam and during this 50 minute flight I’m offered more and better free food & drink options than Air Canada managed in 10+ hours. This c*unt of a trip is about to come to an end. After touchdown we see the boys have found their way home safely. Baars and I have a two hour train ride ahead of us after we’re done waiting for our suitcases. I didn’t buy train tickets at baggage claim since I had a feeling my girlfriend might be waiting on the other side. She wanted to know our arrival time yesterday but I told her not to bother and just go have a nice day. Needless to say she didn’t listen and Baars get to chill in the back of our car instead of dragging suitcases around trains for two+ hours. Nice. We drop off Baars around 17:00 hours and about 48 hours after getting in the Taxi at Excalibur I’m finally home. I don’t even have the energy to bring my suitcase to the attic and just grab my sheets from the bed and throw myself on the couch.
On the couch I start looking back on yet another fantastic Las Vegas trip. Financially is was good trip. I won a bit of money in the tourneys and the cash games didn’t go too bad either. I got set over setted more than I care for but you can’t really complain when a three outer nets you a decent score on the second day. I hardly gamble except for some low stakes roulette and I’m pretty sure I at least broke even on that as well. I spend < 25% off what I had budgeted so that is always good. I managed to get a few things - Hakkasan, Orleans & Naked Fish - off my Vegas Bucket List as well.
Few changes are going to be made for the 2018 trip though. For starters; no more US lay-overs. Next trip is going to be Dusseldorf / Amsterdam to London and a direct flight to Vegas. We got shafted on both ways this time. That isn’t happing again. Second; no more budget hotels, Mirage and upwards from here on. Third; I like that I stayed on this part of the Strip but it’s back to the other side in 2018 for sure. Fourth; we added an extra day to this year’s trip but since I can’t handle Vegas more than five days anyway there is no point in doing that again. This trip took eight vacation days and that is too much. Fifth; sleeping pills that have full grow rhino on the ground in less than 30 seconds.
So, that’s it once again. Another “VPC Went Vegas” series in the books. It was great fun typing it all up and I hope y’all enjoyed reading it. A special thanks to the lads for being perfect Vegas companions as always. Shout out to VPC first timers Wum en Jelzo who needed about five seconds to adjust to the ‘live and let live’ VPC mentality. Next VPC Vegas trip; most likely Jan / Feb 2018.
woensdag 11 januari 2017
VPC Went Vegas Day 11; Toronto Trouble
Since Vegas is the only city in the world I can’t sleep in I don’t wake up until 10:45 as Baars ignored my alarm again like a boss. We head down for breakfast to see what seven Canadian bucks get you these days.
F this ****. We skip breakfast and go for lunch downtown. After a quick shower it’s goodbye and save travels to the lads that travel ahead of us before we hop on the airport shuttle looking for Toronto trouble. The Airport Bullet takes us to Kipling station where we try to buy subway tickets but apparently this is a ‘Paid station’ and tickets are valid for the subway as well. Finding Toronto trouble is more easy than expected as we are greeted with the famous Canadian friendliness by some mother ****er that comes walking up to Baars and starts looking for trouble. Pretty sure we could have handled this mental patient but the plan is to stay in Canada as short as possible and not add a few days in prison.
We make our way to the Bundas station because of its indoor shopping mall. The mall is huge and warm. Since I’m running low on coats I’m wearing three T-shirts and a Hoodie. After some window shopping we cross the street towards the Hard Rock Café for lunch. Toronto is incredibly cheap as two Classic Club Sandwiches, drinks and tip leave us with a ~ € 30,- Credit Card dent.
There are two gay guys at the table next to us and by table next to us I mean the same table since you can’t stick your finger in the space between the tables here at Hard Rock. One of the two clearly poked the wrong hole as he was very much suffering from AIDS. Few times in my life have I seen anyone alive look this bad. Like Binions dealer Bruce. Or Fratie on a Monday. The dude walked straight out of a Walking Dead scene. I feel for the guy but have serious trouble eating with the guy present and I have a pretty strong stomach for stuff like that normally. We ask these guys for Toronto No Coat Sightseeing options but they come up with China Town which sounds like three train and five bus rides away. Thanks, but no thanks.
After lunch we check-out the mall some more before walking in the direction of the CN Tower. I wanted to take the ‘Hop On, Hop off’ bus but online research shows they only sell three day passes at like $ 50,-. Now, if a one day pass would have cost $ 50,- I would have happily paid that. However, not selling day-passes tilts me so the ‘Hop On, Hop off’ bus can go and **** itself. After about 200 feet Baars and I conclude walking outside without a coat is no option. We head back to the Hard Rock and start grinding beers that hit us like freight truck.
As Hugo checks in for his 16:00 flight towards Zurich he asked if there was a possibility to get transferred to the 17:00 Frankfurt flight. Answer; "Sure, plenty of seats on that one". Jelzo and Wum make their way over to the airport ASAP and change their redeye flight to the 17:00 hours one. No way Baars and I can make that flight since we’re grinding beers downtown. We order another one to ease the tilt. Around 18:00 we leave the bar and head back to the hotel.
The Air Canada check-in machine makes us go thought it’s ten minute instruction procedure only to say it cannot check us in. The arrogant c*nt at the info desk is about as helpful as a chocolate teapot as well. Also, Baars carries around his Jack Daniels Bottle as if it is his first born. I accidently ran into the bottle with my suitcase yesterday and we had resuscitate Baars twice. We can’t fly with the bottle since it’s an open cabinet. We stuff the bottle into our hand baggage after security told us we were allowed to check-in two bags each. I thought that was weird and of course Air Canada wants $ 100,- for the extra bag. The question if they can find it in their hearts to make an acceptation after delaying us about 30 hours is answered with a friendly smile and “No”. So, there we sit stuffing Baars’s dirty boxers in my hand luggage to make room for a $ 450,- bottle of Jack…
The boys send pictures of Airport Sushi that looked pretty good earlier so I grab me some of that as a pre-flight dinner. The 15 restaurants don’t offer anything that Baars likes. He spends the 45 minutes in the shopping area until he made up his mind and gets in a huge line for a burger with less than five minutes of boarding time left...
The inflight entertainment set is about as fast as 1998 internet. I get a movie going after five tries but have to give up soon after since so many screens froze up that the entire system has to be shut down for 30 minutes. Nap time.
F this ****. We skip breakfast and go for lunch downtown. After a quick shower it’s goodbye and save travels to the lads that travel ahead of us before we hop on the airport shuttle looking for Toronto trouble. The Airport Bullet takes us to Kipling station where we try to buy subway tickets but apparently this is a ‘Paid station’ and tickets are valid for the subway as well. Finding Toronto trouble is more easy than expected as we are greeted with the famous Canadian friendliness by some mother ****er that comes walking up to Baars and starts looking for trouble. Pretty sure we could have handled this mental patient but the plan is to stay in Canada as short as possible and not add a few days in prison.
We make our way to the Bundas station because of its indoor shopping mall. The mall is huge and warm. Since I’m running low on coats I’m wearing three T-shirts and a Hoodie. After some window shopping we cross the street towards the Hard Rock Café for lunch. Toronto is incredibly cheap as two Classic Club Sandwiches, drinks and tip leave us with a ~ € 30,- Credit Card dent.
There are two gay guys at the table next to us and by table next to us I mean the same table since you can’t stick your finger in the space between the tables here at Hard Rock. One of the two clearly poked the wrong hole as he was very much suffering from AIDS. Few times in my life have I seen anyone alive look this bad. Like Binions dealer Bruce. Or Fratie on a Monday. The dude walked straight out of a Walking Dead scene. I feel for the guy but have serious trouble eating with the guy present and I have a pretty strong stomach for stuff like that normally. We ask these guys for Toronto No Coat Sightseeing options but they come up with China Town which sounds like three train and five bus rides away. Thanks, but no thanks.
After lunch we check-out the mall some more before walking in the direction of the CN Tower. I wanted to take the ‘Hop On, Hop off’ bus but online research shows they only sell three day passes at like $ 50,-. Now, if a one day pass would have cost $ 50,- I would have happily paid that. However, not selling day-passes tilts me so the ‘Hop On, Hop off’ bus can go and **** itself. After about 200 feet Baars and I conclude walking outside without a coat is no option. We head back to the Hard Rock and start grinding beers that hit us like freight truck.
As Hugo checks in for his 16:00 flight towards Zurich he asked if there was a possibility to get transferred to the 17:00 Frankfurt flight. Answer; "Sure, plenty of seats on that one". Jelzo and Wum make their way over to the airport ASAP and change their redeye flight to the 17:00 hours one. No way Baars and I can make that flight since we’re grinding beers downtown. We order another one to ease the tilt. Around 18:00 we leave the bar and head back to the hotel.
The Air Canada check-in machine makes us go thought it’s ten minute instruction procedure only to say it cannot check us in. The arrogant c*nt at the info desk is about as helpful as a chocolate teapot as well. Also, Baars carries around his Jack Daniels Bottle as if it is his first born. I accidently ran into the bottle with my suitcase yesterday and we had resuscitate Baars twice. We can’t fly with the bottle since it’s an open cabinet. We stuff the bottle into our hand baggage after security told us we were allowed to check-in two bags each. I thought that was weird and of course Air Canada wants $ 100,- for the extra bag. The question if they can find it in their hearts to make an acceptation after delaying us about 30 hours is answered with a friendly smile and “No”. So, there we sit stuffing Baars’s dirty boxers in my hand luggage to make room for a $ 450,- bottle of Jack…
The boys send pictures of Airport Sushi that looked pretty good earlier so I grab me some of that as a pre-flight dinner. The 15 restaurants don’t offer anything that Baars likes. He spends the 45 minutes in the shopping area until he made up his mind and gets in a huge line for a burger with less than five minutes of boarding time left...
The inflight entertainment set is about as fast as 1998 internet. I get a movie going after five tries but have to give up soon after since so many screens froze up that the entire system has to be shut down for 30 minutes. Nap time.
VPC Went Vegas Day 10; Eh?
I didn’t put in my earplugs in this night because of Baars ignoring the alarm capabilities. We have an 12:25 flight towards Toronto so a 10:30 taxi seems in order. I check my email before I want to hit the shower and see an email from Expedia that says there is a change in my travel plan.
Wait whut? The Toronto – Amsterdam flight is cancelled and there is a flight booked for Baars and me from Germany’s Frankfurt to Amsterdam. ON SUNDAY!!! I call Bozzie and inform about this trouble in paradise situation. We all booked separately since Expedia only allows groups up to six people.
A call to Expedia – who ever so friendly put me on hold for ~ 15 minutes while using a mobile phone – results in a ‘there is nothing to see here people’ response telling us to just go to the airport. Having checked McCarran departures there is zero change our flight leaves at 12:25 since it’s already on a three hour + delay. Hoping Air Canada somehow found a solution we make our way to the airport only to be told what we already knew; WE ARE F*CKED!
We’ll miss our connecting flight in Toronto and will have to spend the night there. Awesome. This causes several problems. Bozzie is missing his daughter’s birthday. Damvic misses a free dinner party. Wum has to change his Tinder settings to Toronto. Baars has to arrange employees to run the pub an extra day. Jezlo’s leghenne are about to explode. Al that and we have to start this terror off with a 200 minute wait.
Since we’re going to be seeing airplanes and airports for the next ~ 48 hours we grab the nearest cab to get away from this one asap. Wum, Jelzo, Bozzie & Iebus go Outlet Shopping. Baars, Hugo, Damvic and me make our way to the South Point Hotel & Casino. I look at the Delly menu for a while before making the worst possible choice by ordering two slices of salami Pizza that taste like feet. Some 2/4 limit gambling and roulette pass the time before we should be heading back. To Baars this delay feels like a scene from the movie classic ‘Casino’ when the high roller wants to leave Vegas with money in his pocket.
While waiting at the gate in Vegas Baars comes running at us with the biggest smile of the trip. He claims he just won back the money he lost at South Point and then some. I thought these airport slot machines had the worst pay-out in town. Well, it’s not the slot machines that made hour hero a rich man.
Baars: “I bought a limited edition bottle of Frank Sinatra Jack Daniels”
We: “How much was the bottle?”
Baars “Only $ 450,-“
We “So, were is the profit in this – so far, very lovely - story?”
Baars “They are selling these bottles empty for 1K on Ebay”
We “Nice. So, your selling this bottle then?”
Baars “HELLS NO!!!”
We: *ROFL*
The Toronto Flight is pure torture. We’re flying with Air Canada’s El Cheapo Division; Rouge. No in-flight entertainment, a middle seat, 100 degrees and about a million IBM employees talking shop have me on the verge of murder. In Toronto Air Canada handles thing about as smoothly as Steve Harvey handled the Miss Universe competition. With a business as usual look we are told we’re on a mild 22,5 hour layover here. No biggie. Hugo gets sent to Switzerland’s Zurich first the next day on a 16:00 hour flight. Iebus, Damvic and Bozzie are on the 17:00 flight towards Frankfurt and the other four of us will be on the redeye to Frankfurt at 21:30 hours. Absolutely marvellous.
We are send on our way with an address for a hotel and a breakfast voucher worth no less than seven Canadian dollars. It’s balls freezing cold in Toronto and due the lovely weather in Vegas I packed about zero coats. There are some people that run worse however as I see them waiting for the shuttle bus at 15 degrees and gushing winds in flip flops, shorts and sleeveless shirts.
It’s 12:30 AM here in Canada and we’re hungry. We call the hotel to see if we can eat there but the bar closes in 30 minutes. The shuttle arrives every 15 minutes but about 50 people need to make their way to the Crown Plaza so Baars and I miss the first shuttle. We wait inside the airport, grab a bite to eat and charge our phones while using the delly’s pie server trying to break into Baars’s suitcase that somehow refuses to open. The next shuttle drop us off and the boys have ordered us burgers and beers. Well played, guys.
The bar closes at 2AM so it’s bedtime. Baars ****s something up with our TV set which leaves us with just the sound. Jelzo texted soft porn was to be seen on channel 34 so we miss out on that. Bummer. At first I wanted to sleep in but I’m not spending the day hanging in a hotel lobby so I set the alarm for 10 AM. Let go and see what balls freezing Toronto looks like with no coat.
Wait whut? The Toronto – Amsterdam flight is cancelled and there is a flight booked for Baars and me from Germany’s Frankfurt to Amsterdam. ON SUNDAY!!! I call Bozzie and inform about this trouble in paradise situation. We all booked separately since Expedia only allows groups up to six people.
A call to Expedia – who ever so friendly put me on hold for ~ 15 minutes while using a mobile phone – results in a ‘there is nothing to see here people’ response telling us to just go to the airport. Having checked McCarran departures there is zero change our flight leaves at 12:25 since it’s already on a three hour + delay. Hoping Air Canada somehow found a solution we make our way to the airport only to be told what we already knew; WE ARE F*CKED!
We’ll miss our connecting flight in Toronto and will have to spend the night there. Awesome. This causes several problems. Bozzie is missing his daughter’s birthday. Damvic misses a free dinner party. Wum has to change his Tinder settings to Toronto. Baars has to arrange employees to run the pub an extra day. Jezlo’s leghenne are about to explode. Al that and we have to start this terror off with a 200 minute wait.
Since we’re going to be seeing airplanes and airports for the next ~ 48 hours we grab the nearest cab to get away from this one asap. Wum, Jelzo, Bozzie & Iebus go Outlet Shopping. Baars, Hugo, Damvic and me make our way to the South Point Hotel & Casino. I look at the Delly menu for a while before making the worst possible choice by ordering two slices of salami Pizza that taste like feet. Some 2/4 limit gambling and roulette pass the time before we should be heading back. To Baars this delay feels like a scene from the movie classic ‘Casino’ when the high roller wants to leave Vegas with money in his pocket.
While waiting at the gate in Vegas Baars comes running at us with the biggest smile of the trip. He claims he just won back the money he lost at South Point and then some. I thought these airport slot machines had the worst pay-out in town. Well, it’s not the slot machines that made hour hero a rich man.
Baars: “I bought a limited edition bottle of Frank Sinatra Jack Daniels”
We: “How much was the bottle?”
Baars “Only $ 450,-“
We “So, were is the profit in this – so far, very lovely - story?”
Baars “They are selling these bottles empty for 1K on Ebay”
We “Nice. So, your selling this bottle then?”
Baars “HELLS NO!!!”
We: *ROFL*
The Toronto Flight is pure torture. We’re flying with Air Canada’s El Cheapo Division; Rouge. No in-flight entertainment, a middle seat, 100 degrees and about a million IBM employees talking shop have me on the verge of murder. In Toronto Air Canada handles thing about as smoothly as Steve Harvey handled the Miss Universe competition. With a business as usual look we are told we’re on a mild 22,5 hour layover here. No biggie. Hugo gets sent to Switzerland’s Zurich first the next day on a 16:00 hour flight. Iebus, Damvic and Bozzie are on the 17:00 flight towards Frankfurt and the other four of us will be on the redeye to Frankfurt at 21:30 hours. Absolutely marvellous.
We are send on our way with an address for a hotel and a breakfast voucher worth no less than seven Canadian dollars. It’s balls freezing cold in Toronto and due the lovely weather in Vegas I packed about zero coats. There are some people that run worse however as I see them waiting for the shuttle bus at 15 degrees and gushing winds in flip flops, shorts and sleeveless shirts.
It’s 12:30 AM here in Canada and we’re hungry. We call the hotel to see if we can eat there but the bar closes in 30 minutes. The shuttle arrives every 15 minutes but about 50 people need to make their way to the Crown Plaza so Baars and I miss the first shuttle. We wait inside the airport, grab a bite to eat and charge our phones while using the delly’s pie server trying to break into Baars’s suitcase that somehow refuses to open. The next shuttle drop us off and the boys have ordered us burgers and beers. Well played, guys.
The bar closes at 2AM so it’s bedtime. Baars ****s something up with our TV set which leaves us with just the sound. Jelzo texted soft porn was to be seen on channel 34 so we miss out on that. Bummer. At first I wanted to sleep in but I’m not spending the day hanging in a hotel lobby so I set the alarm for 10 AM. Let go and see what balls freezing Toronto looks like with no coat.
VPC Went Vegas Day 9; A bridge too far
When I wake up Baars sits on the side of the bed. He looks around the room as if he just had about fifteen epiphanies in a row. That can only mean one thing; our boy won!!!
Me: “Dude, good night?”
Baars: “Unreal. Was up X K at Craps”
Me: “NICE!. You know how to play craps?”
Baars: “…No…”
Me: “Right. So you shipped the X K?”
Baars: “…Noooo…”
Baars still ended up pretty big and is muchos excited about the stack of dollars he can light on fire today. Whereas I had a mellow night the boys are all hungover as f*ck. Damvic for instance joins us on the walk to Earl of Sandwich only to order an overpriced bottle of water and walk straight back to Excalibur for more sleep. Iebus changes his plans to join Hugo, Jelzo and me for the Aria daily about five times before he registers.
Hugo – who’s at my table - has a massive start but requires his usual re-entry within the hour. The problem with Loose / Terrible is when you don’t have any momentum it’s mostly just very expensive. I don’t start to good either. I get stubborn with AK when I get check-raised on a super dry 36J board. I peel the turn and we c/c the river only to get shown QJo. I thought villain was capable but I guess I was wrong.
At the table behind me is a dude that won’t stop talking about what hands he would have made if he hadn’t folded J3o UTG +1 after a raise. You know the type. Imagine the horror when I realise I left my headphones in the hotel room. Luckily the dude bust quickly…re-enters…and gets the seat to my direct right. For. F*ck. Sake. I can’t get anything going and re-ship A6d on the button for ~ 20 bigs over an open from my annoying neighbour. He calls with what we can best describe as the top of his range. I bink three diamonds to crack them aces and the dude nearly collapses with tilt. He actually gets angry at the dealer. I honestly think we as a community should neuter these people or better; involuntary euthanize them.
Few hours and a headache later I’m playing my regular 20 bigs when the dude open ships 10BB from the SB. I look down at 45o and….call. I see so much tilt potential here and it’s basically and any two vs. any two spot anyway. Also, see next paragraph for more calling reasons. We whiff against A8. D’oh. I bust not long after on a standard flip and go for a ‘good bye’ walk through Vegas on my own. I had a Red Bull during the grind and that did not go down well. I make my way in the direction of the Venetian but have to give up halfway into the walk. I feel worse than ever before and grab the nearest taxi to Excalibur.
I talked to Bozzie this morning about how we normally would be heading home today. We were both excited about the extra day but that has changed quickly. You know that feeling when you’re driving your car on an empty freeway and you’re dead tired. Everybody’s been there. You slap your face and crack a window. Your body know it should be alert but you still doze off for a micro second. Your body immediately creates an adrenaline boost and you feel like your heart skips a beat. Image that feeling happening every 300 feet while walking the Strip. That’s how I feel and I decide there and then to go back into the world of doctors and hospitals when I get back home.
Now - two weeks after the trip – the body has calmed down a bit and things are back to being normal. However - after almost three years - normal still isn’t what used to be 100%. I’m on the fence about the whole doctors and hospitals thing. I guess you read in two years what happened ;-). Let’s continue…
Hugo, Wum, Iebus and me agreed to go eat at The Naked Fish again tonight. The food was so good drunk I need to know what it tastes like sober. I lie in bed watching Dumpert movies for the better part of the evening before making my way to the Poker Room meet-up at 22:00 hours. Iebus stone bubbled the Aria daily and is too tired to join us for epic Sushi this evening.
Our taxi driver pulls up at an 0.02 MPH speed. I get into the cab but the smell of the driver is unbearable making me want to get out ASAP. However, a very friendly face greets me so I decide not to be a dick here and just crack a window. Or all windows.
Me; ‘’How you doing, Buddy”
Him; “Good. Second day taxi!”
Me; “Alright... Any accidents on day one?”
Him; “…No?….”
Our man is a political refugee from Ethiopia and after doing the dishes at Monte Carlo for a year he now has a taxi licence. Or bought one. Our man smells like he’s been hunting down endangered species on the savanna this afternoon but has a very friendly demeanour. It takes him a good five minutes to make his way onto the Strip and him checking his Google Maps every 20 seconds kills us about four times but we eventually make our way to The Naked Fish.
After 22:00 hours there’s a happy hour which gets you one special roll, two standard rolls and a beverage for like 20 bucks. They are just giving away the food here. All rolls are pure gold. If anyone thinks Hugo can butcher poker hands you should see the man eat sushi. I don’t think he manged to grab one piece correctly. 24% stays on the plate. 18% ends up somewhere between the plate and the soya cup. 39% remains in the soya cup and about 19% ends up on his shirt. You wouldn’t believe it. I have to ask him if he’s even sure he’s left-handed, at some point.
While waiting for a cab we enjoy an after dinner cigarette when I step to close to a pick-up truck and the alarm sets off. I wasn’t within a three feet area of the damn thing but all hell breaks loose. Our cab pull up and we get the hell out of dodge before some shotgun carrying redneck blows our brains all over the parking lot.
Back in Excalibur Wum explains he knows how to play Craps. Well. Let’s go then. Our $ 200,- buy-in decreases about 10% every minute. Baars is on the other side of the spectrum. He’s singing ‘Keep on smiling’ after every roll while high-fiving everyone and their mothers. I’m starting to doubt Wum’s Craps capabilities but I have no clue about what’s going on so I go and watch Damvic lit his last dollars on fire at the roulette tables.
After about ten minutes I see Wum looking at Hugo while shrugging his shoulders. As expected all Craps dollars are now owned by The Excalibur Hotel & Casino. Baars stopped his ‘Keep on smiling’ routine and is back to his 93% of the time Vegas look; sad and misunderstood. I know things are really bad when the pit boss makes his way over to Baars and says; “The key to this game, sir, is knowing when to walk away from the table”.
The only seat available in the 1-2 game at Excalibur is at the table where Jelzo, Wum and Hugo are playing. I make my way over to MGM and grab a seat at their 1-2 game while enjoying The Slut Parade making their way to Hakkasan. It will be a short session. Playing short-handed there is a life straddle to $ 5,- when someone opens to $ 16,-. My left neighbour has a $ 60,- dollar stack and open shipped that the hand before. I call with JJ hoping my neighbour will shove and potentially giving OR a real headache spot when he calls and I ship. A high variance line but we’ll see. All that doesn’t happen and we see a AJ7 flop. I’ll take it. All the money goes in on a brick turn but I’m drawing to one single out. Come on, Vegas. You’ve been kind to me all week. Why does it have to end like this, hey? No miracles and I quit the game.
A quick stop at The Hard Rock Café to see if I can get my girl an item she wanted before joining the lads at Excalibur. No seats at 1-2 but there is a seat in the 2-6 spread game. Not interested. Wait. Hot chick in seat 8 and seat 9 is open? Alright. I get to witness Hugo dust off his last $ in the 1-2 game in style. He shoves it all-in with a look the that says: “There is not a change in HELL I have the best hand here”. Classic Hugo.
I play in the 2-6 game till about four in the morning ignoring all Wums text messages to score the hot chicks number completely. On my way to the room I put my entire 2-6 profit of $ 20,- on the number 14. It’s time to go big or go home. 17. I guess we’re going home.
Me: “Dude, good night?”
Baars: “Unreal. Was up X K at Craps”
Me: “NICE!. You know how to play craps?”
Baars: “…No…”
Me: “Right. So you shipped the X K?”
Baars: “…Noooo…”
Baars still ended up pretty big and is muchos excited about the stack of dollars he can light on fire today. Whereas I had a mellow night the boys are all hungover as f*ck. Damvic for instance joins us on the walk to Earl of Sandwich only to order an overpriced bottle of water and walk straight back to Excalibur for more sleep. Iebus changes his plans to join Hugo, Jelzo and me for the Aria daily about five times before he registers.
Hugo – who’s at my table - has a massive start but requires his usual re-entry within the hour. The problem with Loose / Terrible is when you don’t have any momentum it’s mostly just very expensive. I don’t start to good either. I get stubborn with AK when I get check-raised on a super dry 36J board. I peel the turn and we c/c the river only to get shown QJo. I thought villain was capable but I guess I was wrong.
At the table behind me is a dude that won’t stop talking about what hands he would have made if he hadn’t folded J3o UTG +1 after a raise. You know the type. Imagine the horror when I realise I left my headphones in the hotel room. Luckily the dude bust quickly…re-enters…and gets the seat to my direct right. For. F*ck. Sake. I can’t get anything going and re-ship A6d on the button for ~ 20 bigs over an open from my annoying neighbour. He calls with what we can best describe as the top of his range. I bink three diamonds to crack them aces and the dude nearly collapses with tilt. He actually gets angry at the dealer. I honestly think we as a community should neuter these people or better; involuntary euthanize them.
Few hours and a headache later I’m playing my regular 20 bigs when the dude open ships 10BB from the SB. I look down at 45o and….call. I see so much tilt potential here and it’s basically and any two vs. any two spot anyway. Also, see next paragraph for more calling reasons. We whiff against A8. D’oh. I bust not long after on a standard flip and go for a ‘good bye’ walk through Vegas on my own. I had a Red Bull during the grind and that did not go down well. I make my way in the direction of the Venetian but have to give up halfway into the walk. I feel worse than ever before and grab the nearest taxi to Excalibur.
I talked to Bozzie this morning about how we normally would be heading home today. We were both excited about the extra day but that has changed quickly. You know that feeling when you’re driving your car on an empty freeway and you’re dead tired. Everybody’s been there. You slap your face and crack a window. Your body know it should be alert but you still doze off for a micro second. Your body immediately creates an adrenaline boost and you feel like your heart skips a beat. Image that feeling happening every 300 feet while walking the Strip. That’s how I feel and I decide there and then to go back into the world of doctors and hospitals when I get back home.
Now - two weeks after the trip – the body has calmed down a bit and things are back to being normal. However - after almost three years - normal still isn’t what used to be 100%. I’m on the fence about the whole doctors and hospitals thing. I guess you read in two years what happened ;-). Let’s continue…
Hugo, Wum, Iebus and me agreed to go eat at The Naked Fish again tonight. The food was so good drunk I need to know what it tastes like sober. I lie in bed watching Dumpert movies for the better part of the evening before making my way to the Poker Room meet-up at 22:00 hours. Iebus stone bubbled the Aria daily and is too tired to join us for epic Sushi this evening.
Our taxi driver pulls up at an 0.02 MPH speed. I get into the cab but the smell of the driver is unbearable making me want to get out ASAP. However, a very friendly face greets me so I decide not to be a dick here and just crack a window. Or all windows.
Me; ‘’How you doing, Buddy”
Him; “Good. Second day taxi!”
Me; “Alright... Any accidents on day one?”
Him; “…No?….”
Our man is a political refugee from Ethiopia and after doing the dishes at Monte Carlo for a year he now has a taxi licence. Or bought one. Our man smells like he’s been hunting down endangered species on the savanna this afternoon but has a very friendly demeanour. It takes him a good five minutes to make his way onto the Strip and him checking his Google Maps every 20 seconds kills us about four times but we eventually make our way to The Naked Fish.
After 22:00 hours there’s a happy hour which gets you one special roll, two standard rolls and a beverage for like 20 bucks. They are just giving away the food here. All rolls are pure gold. If anyone thinks Hugo can butcher poker hands you should see the man eat sushi. I don’t think he manged to grab one piece correctly. 24% stays on the plate. 18% ends up somewhere between the plate and the soya cup. 39% remains in the soya cup and about 19% ends up on his shirt. You wouldn’t believe it. I have to ask him if he’s even sure he’s left-handed, at some point.
While waiting for a cab we enjoy an after dinner cigarette when I step to close to a pick-up truck and the alarm sets off. I wasn’t within a three feet area of the damn thing but all hell breaks loose. Our cab pull up and we get the hell out of dodge before some shotgun carrying redneck blows our brains all over the parking lot.
Back in Excalibur Wum explains he knows how to play Craps. Well. Let’s go then. Our $ 200,- buy-in decreases about 10% every minute. Baars is on the other side of the spectrum. He’s singing ‘Keep on smiling’ after every roll while high-fiving everyone and their mothers. I’m starting to doubt Wum’s Craps capabilities but I have no clue about what’s going on so I go and watch Damvic lit his last dollars on fire at the roulette tables.
After about ten minutes I see Wum looking at Hugo while shrugging his shoulders. As expected all Craps dollars are now owned by The Excalibur Hotel & Casino. Baars stopped his ‘Keep on smiling’ routine and is back to his 93% of the time Vegas look; sad and misunderstood. I know things are really bad when the pit boss makes his way over to Baars and says; “The key to this game, sir, is knowing when to walk away from the table”.
The only seat available in the 1-2 game at Excalibur is at the table where Jelzo, Wum and Hugo are playing. I make my way over to MGM and grab a seat at their 1-2 game while enjoying The Slut Parade making their way to Hakkasan. It will be a short session. Playing short-handed there is a life straddle to $ 5,- when someone opens to $ 16,-. My left neighbour has a $ 60,- dollar stack and open shipped that the hand before. I call with JJ hoping my neighbour will shove and potentially giving OR a real headache spot when he calls and I ship. A high variance line but we’ll see. All that doesn’t happen and we see a AJ7 flop. I’ll take it. All the money goes in on a brick turn but I’m drawing to one single out. Come on, Vegas. You’ve been kind to me all week. Why does it have to end like this, hey? No miracles and I quit the game.
A quick stop at The Hard Rock Café to see if I can get my girl an item she wanted before joining the lads at Excalibur. No seats at 1-2 but there is a seat in the 2-6 spread game. Not interested. Wait. Hot chick in seat 8 and seat 9 is open? Alright. I get to witness Hugo dust off his last $ in the 1-2 game in style. He shoves it all-in with a look the that says: “There is not a change in HELL I have the best hand here”. Classic Hugo.
I play in the 2-6 game till about four in the morning ignoring all Wums text messages to score the hot chicks number completely. On my way to the room I put my entire 2-6 profit of $ 20,- on the number 14. It’s time to go big or go home. 17. I guess we’re going home.
VPC Went Vegas Day 8; Will I’m not.
I don’t particularly like beer hangovers but I definitely prefer them over strong liquor hangovers. After a night of mix drink boozing you always feel like u got into a fight. Against 40 people. And lost. Horribly. An Earl of Sandwich Caesar Salad Wrap gets the day going before I make my way to MGM Sportsbook to watch PSV Eindhoven – Atletico Madrid with the lads.
Obviously this is going to be a draw so I wager a little bit of cash. The game is decent for a 0-0 draw. I had The Gun Store in mind for this afternoon’s entertainment but most are already boozing and I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed to shoot a gun just yet alcohol level wise. We agree on a group dinner at The Outback Steak House before seeing Britney tonight. Everyone is off to the Venetian by taxi but I go for a little stroll. I love walking on the Strip and I can definitely use some fresh air. Also, I need to make the reservation at Casino Royale.
I want to sing up for some 1/2NL before I see 4/8 Omaha Eight is on the menu here at The Venetian. I’ll have me some of that! The game isn’t as good as at Orleans last Sunday but decent overall. About two minutes after I sit down Wum storms by with a ‘WTF was that?’ kind of face. In a SB vs BTN battle Wum flopped a set of aces that got cracked by almighty 57o on the turn. Wum is more than capable but running very poorly so far in Vegas poker wise. I offer to take 50% in his next buy-in but Wum is done with poker. When he returns from the toilet minutes later to find out his $ 16,- are stolen from the slot machine he’s pretty much done with Vegas for the day as well. Wum taps out and returns to Excalibur telling us to burn his Britney ticket.
I skipped drinking today but give one beer a go at Casino Royale during pre-dinner roulette. One sip and I’m out. The problem is that I now need to go and watch Britney Spears sober. The dinner at The Outback Steak House is excellent and enjoyable. Blooming Unions, a Caesar salad and a Prime Centre Cut Fillet leave me stuffed beyond believe.
Despite having stayed pretty much above the Volcano show at Mirage last trip I’ve never seen the thing in action until today. A typical ‘Baars moment’ occurs when he watches the Volcano show for five minutes before taking out his phone to snap a picture 0.7 seconds after the show ended. We make a quick stop at Planet Hollywood Sportsbook to see how the Clippers are doing. Iebus and Bozzie bet a hundo on the game that the Clippers need to win by elven. As we sit down the Clippers are down by two. When we leave five minutes later the Clippers are down by ~ 25 sending Bozzie right back into his Vegas Tilt Coma. I should have bet the other team.
So, Britney Spears then. What seemed like a good idea weeks ago now feels like a terrible one. I’m sober with a 20 oz. steak in my stomach looking for trouble. No opinion on the show really. The singing is as fake as a Turkish LaCoste shirt but the graphic’s where pretty good. Not that Hugo could be bothered since he was sleeping while standing up straight. Impressive stuff. I last about five songs before I reach the conclusion life is too short for this bull**** and head for the nearest exit.
I cross the street towards Bellagio mostly because I lack inspiration to come up with a better plan. A short stop at the conservatory before I realise the bouncer in my stomach is fed up with the steak and pushes him to the nearest exit. Running into the Bellagio restrooms I’m still unsure about what the nearest exit is going to be. I haven’t played at Bellagio last trip and regretted that. So, I hop into a 1/3 game. I get off to a good start calling down JJ on a Q high board after three donk leads.
The dealer in my game is Fred. Never in my life have I seen anyone more annoyed with his job than Fred. Fred sighs at every single move he has to make. It’s absolutely hilarious. If someone has the nerve to ask for a count Fred looks at them with a ‘are you serious right now?’ look. No one dares to put a word in accept check, bet, raise or call. Epic Fred. After the dealer change everyone looks at each other with a “what the heck was that?” look and burst into laughter.
The game at Bellagio is good. Two drunks at the table one of which just agreed to meet a girl trough Tinder at the rail. We all agree to make fun of her if she turn out to be a working lady. Unfortunately, she doesn’t show. I quit a small winner after about three hours before making my way back to Excalibur for some more grinding. I know low limit games in Vegas are a bit crazy but this game is so far of any reasonable chart you wouldn’t believe. The next hand is no joke. A 50 years old German limps UTG +1. Folds around to the SB who makes it $ 20,-. German tank calls after a good two minutes. Flop comes down 246 rainbow. SB leads $ 50,-. German tank calls. Turn 8. SB ships ~ € 150,-. German – who covers - tank calls and tables… ATo. The SB stand up and looks like he just saw a ghost while turning over KJo. The German mumble’s ‘you can’t lose every hand’ in German to his buddy who hardly seems in awe about what just happened. I add a c-note to my stack.
Around 03:30 the boys return from the piano bar in New York New York where for some ridiculous reason they never heard of the classic ‘Ron ‘t Kanon – Graashookse Minse’. Apparently Wum was well on his way getting into a fifty year old’s pants until he asked - the not so flattering question - if the woman had survived WWII.
Now. There was supposed to be a good story in this last paragraph but it got vetoed by whom it concerns. I completely disagree but obviously will oblige. If you google our names links to these reports might pop up so I get the point but in this particularly story nothing too exciting happened. At least not in the way I put it on paper. If stories like this can no longer be shared I have to seriously consider if it worth my while typing up these reports in the wee hours. Anyway…
Off to bed around 5AM. Tomorrow is our last full day in Vegas.
Obviously this is going to be a draw so I wager a little bit of cash. The game is decent for a 0-0 draw. I had The Gun Store in mind for this afternoon’s entertainment but most are already boozing and I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed to shoot a gun just yet alcohol level wise. We agree on a group dinner at The Outback Steak House before seeing Britney tonight. Everyone is off to the Venetian by taxi but I go for a little stroll. I love walking on the Strip and I can definitely use some fresh air. Also, I need to make the reservation at Casino Royale.
I want to sing up for some 1/2NL before I see 4/8 Omaha Eight is on the menu here at The Venetian. I’ll have me some of that! The game isn’t as good as at Orleans last Sunday but decent overall. About two minutes after I sit down Wum storms by with a ‘WTF was that?’ kind of face. In a SB vs BTN battle Wum flopped a set of aces that got cracked by almighty 57o on the turn. Wum is more than capable but running very poorly so far in Vegas poker wise. I offer to take 50% in his next buy-in but Wum is done with poker. When he returns from the toilet minutes later to find out his $ 16,- are stolen from the slot machine he’s pretty much done with Vegas for the day as well. Wum taps out and returns to Excalibur telling us to burn his Britney ticket.
I skipped drinking today but give one beer a go at Casino Royale during pre-dinner roulette. One sip and I’m out. The problem is that I now need to go and watch Britney Spears sober. The dinner at The Outback Steak House is excellent and enjoyable. Blooming Unions, a Caesar salad and a Prime Centre Cut Fillet leave me stuffed beyond believe.
Despite having stayed pretty much above the Volcano show at Mirage last trip I’ve never seen the thing in action until today. A typical ‘Baars moment’ occurs when he watches the Volcano show for five minutes before taking out his phone to snap a picture 0.7 seconds after the show ended. We make a quick stop at Planet Hollywood Sportsbook to see how the Clippers are doing. Iebus and Bozzie bet a hundo on the game that the Clippers need to win by elven. As we sit down the Clippers are down by two. When we leave five minutes later the Clippers are down by ~ 25 sending Bozzie right back into his Vegas Tilt Coma. I should have bet the other team.
So, Britney Spears then. What seemed like a good idea weeks ago now feels like a terrible one. I’m sober with a 20 oz. steak in my stomach looking for trouble. No opinion on the show really. The singing is as fake as a Turkish LaCoste shirt but the graphic’s where pretty good. Not that Hugo could be bothered since he was sleeping while standing up straight. Impressive stuff. I last about five songs before I reach the conclusion life is too short for this bull**** and head for the nearest exit.
I cross the street towards Bellagio mostly because I lack inspiration to come up with a better plan. A short stop at the conservatory before I realise the bouncer in my stomach is fed up with the steak and pushes him to the nearest exit. Running into the Bellagio restrooms I’m still unsure about what the nearest exit is going to be. I haven’t played at Bellagio last trip and regretted that. So, I hop into a 1/3 game. I get off to a good start calling down JJ on a Q high board after three donk leads.
The dealer in my game is Fred. Never in my life have I seen anyone more annoyed with his job than Fred. Fred sighs at every single move he has to make. It’s absolutely hilarious. If someone has the nerve to ask for a count Fred looks at them with a ‘are you serious right now?’ look. No one dares to put a word in accept check, bet, raise or call. Epic Fred. After the dealer change everyone looks at each other with a “what the heck was that?” look and burst into laughter.
The game at Bellagio is good. Two drunks at the table one of which just agreed to meet a girl trough Tinder at the rail. We all agree to make fun of her if she turn out to be a working lady. Unfortunately, she doesn’t show. I quit a small winner after about three hours before making my way back to Excalibur for some more grinding. I know low limit games in Vegas are a bit crazy but this game is so far of any reasonable chart you wouldn’t believe. The next hand is no joke. A 50 years old German limps UTG +1. Folds around to the SB who makes it $ 20,-. German tank calls after a good two minutes. Flop comes down 246 rainbow. SB leads $ 50,-. German tank calls. Turn 8. SB ships ~ € 150,-. German – who covers - tank calls and tables… ATo. The SB stand up and looks like he just saw a ghost while turning over KJo. The German mumble’s ‘you can’t lose every hand’ in German to his buddy who hardly seems in awe about what just happened. I add a c-note to my stack.
Around 03:30 the boys return from the piano bar in New York New York where for some ridiculous reason they never heard of the classic ‘Ron ‘t Kanon – Graashookse Minse’. Apparently Wum was well on his way getting into a fifty year old’s pants until he asked - the not so flattering question - if the woman had survived WWII.
Now. There was supposed to be a good story in this last paragraph but it got vetoed by whom it concerns. I completely disagree but obviously will oblige. If you google our names links to these reports might pop up so I get the point but in this particularly story nothing too exciting happened. At least not in the way I put it on paper. If stories like this can no longer be shared I have to seriously consider if it worth my while typing up these reports in the wee hours. Anyway…
Off to bed around 5AM. Tomorrow is our last full day in Vegas.
VPC Went Vegas Day 7; Downtown.
I wake up every two hours but manage to squeeze in at least 7/8 hours of very very much needed sleep. Today we head to our beloved downtown. Baars, Bozzie and me make our way to Earl of Sandwich before cabbing towards the Downtown Outlet Stores for some bargain hunting.
We all meet up at Binions around 1PM to play the Daily Tournament. After catching up on the Spearmint stories – yes, everyone went broke - the entire group enters the tourney. I have basically two options here; A) Don’t drink. Feel terrible. Feel a little better tomorrow. B) Get drunk. Feel awesome. Feel double terrible tomorrow. I go with option B. Rum and Coke are today’s medicine.
I love Binions. The dealers are all epic. They give each other so much ****. Absolutely hilarious. The tournament couldn’t have gone worse though. The very first hand I open Tens and my C-bet gets check-raised on a Q high flop. I call down all the way and the dude has JJ. Who the f*ck check-raises JJ on a dry Q high board and then ‘barrels’ 1/5th pot two streets? We also have that one dude at the table that every low limit table in Vegas seems to have. Sunglasses? Check. Headphones? Check. Serious look? Check. Not playing a single hand and then opening to 15X? Check.
To make matters worse Barcelona beats Arsenal. Bozzie and Iebus bet on Barcelona and there is a very easy way to make money in Vegas; follow Bozzie and Iebus around and bet the opposite team all day. Not today unfortunately. After successfully 4-betting Iebus with Q2o - #Aevol - things go south again rather quickly. Since it’s a re-entry I play accordingly. Loose and bad. I dust off the first bullet squeezing after an open and a call. Grandpa in de SB overcalls my 20 bigs without much thought. OR and the caller fold. My QJd can’t beat the all mighty 78c.
I re-enter with the plan of playing even worse but running a lot better. First hand after I re-enter I open KTo and flop Gin on JQA rainbow. Here we go. The old fart in the small blind – same table - calls a pot bet and in my mind I’ve already doubled up. I pot again on an off suit deuce turn. River Q. The old man leads pot for like 5k. I consider shipping since the Oldman would for sure lead QT & KQ as well but the way the tournament has been going so far I elect to just call. Old Man Coffee has Q2. Good times.
When my second Rum and Coke arrived earlier the waitress told me she made a mistake and accidently made it a double one. She offered to add coke and where I should have said ‘Yes, please do so’ I went with ‘That’s quite alright, miss’. Things get blurry fast. I last way longer in the tournament than expected after playing a decent shove / fold game. The tourney structure goes from 500/1K to 600/1200 to 1200/2400. Really? Who makes this **** up? I can’t remember how I busted or how the other guys did in the tourney. I don’t think anyone cashed.
No seats available in the 1/3 game so it sit down in 2-6 spread game and increase the intake of the double Rum and Cokes. Hugo is raping the 1/3 game. Hugo has a unique own style that can best be described as; Loose / Terrible. The thing with Loose / Terrible is once it gets some variance wind in its sails you better step aside really quickly.
The 2-6 spread game is great fun. For some reason I end up in a religious discussion. Being a drunk atheist is probably a recipe to get shot rather quickly but things proceed respectfully. I actually started the ‘discussion’ myself when a dude said: “I know I go to a better place when I die”. No you don’t. You think you go to a better place. I think you are wrong. No one f*cking knows. It always comes down to the fact that religious people can’t wrap their head around the fact that life might just end after our last breath;
Dude; “Where do you think you go after you die then?”
Me; “Uhh…nowhere?”
Dude; “What do you think it’s like to be dead then?”
Me; “Do you remember what is was like before you where born?”
Dude; “Uhh…No?”
Me; “So yeah…. Pretty much like that”
I don’t look down or troll religious people – I was raised catholic btw - I just find it rather strange that anyone < ~ 45 can be religious in this modern day and age. I really think we should start a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy when it comes down to religion. This **** is getting out of control and frankly I’m a little fed up with having to strip down to my boxers at airport security because people that believe a guy flew up to the sky on a unicorn can’t get along with people that believe 2k years ago a woman got pregnant without doing the nasty stuff and gave birth to a child that could walk on water. Stop bothering me with that sh*t, alright?
Anyway. Wum joined the game after busting and we come up with the plan to go for Sushi later. Damvic and Iebus entered the 7PM tourney representing 20% of the field while I move steadily from drunk to sh*t-faced.
I find myself in taxi towards The Naked Fish with Wum and Hugo at God knows what time. The Naked Fish – at the Flamingo Road / Durango intersection – is a famous Sushi restaurant among Dutch Poker community. Although I think they ‘moved on’ to new spot The Naked Fish was on my Vegas bucket list. I’m too drunk to have any say in the ordering process and just nod at every suggested roll.
Wum and Hugo order like ten specialty rolls and they are all A+. I’ve only been eating Sushi for like two years but this is definitely a new high. I expected a nose bleed bill but it think the taxi costs were higher than the food costs. Very reasonable prized.
On our way back to The Strip Hugo suggest bowling. If I had to guess we went bowling at Gold Coast but it might as well have been Orleans. Don’t ask me who won either. I do remember Wum and Hugo going for some craps after. I’m completely done at this point. After another ‘five more minutes’ I just stumble towards the exit and grab a cab to Excalibur myself. Drop off at the Resort Tower and off to my room asap.
We all meet up at Binions around 1PM to play the Daily Tournament. After catching up on the Spearmint stories – yes, everyone went broke - the entire group enters the tourney. I have basically two options here; A) Don’t drink. Feel terrible. Feel a little better tomorrow. B) Get drunk. Feel awesome. Feel double terrible tomorrow. I go with option B. Rum and Coke are today’s medicine.
I love Binions. The dealers are all epic. They give each other so much ****. Absolutely hilarious. The tournament couldn’t have gone worse though. The very first hand I open Tens and my C-bet gets check-raised on a Q high flop. I call down all the way and the dude has JJ. Who the f*ck check-raises JJ on a dry Q high board and then ‘barrels’ 1/5th pot two streets? We also have that one dude at the table that every low limit table in Vegas seems to have. Sunglasses? Check. Headphones? Check. Serious look? Check. Not playing a single hand and then opening to 15X? Check.
To make matters worse Barcelona beats Arsenal. Bozzie and Iebus bet on Barcelona and there is a very easy way to make money in Vegas; follow Bozzie and Iebus around and bet the opposite team all day. Not today unfortunately. After successfully 4-betting Iebus with Q2o - #Aevol - things go south again rather quickly. Since it’s a re-entry I play accordingly. Loose and bad. I dust off the first bullet squeezing after an open and a call. Grandpa in de SB overcalls my 20 bigs without much thought. OR and the caller fold. My QJd can’t beat the all mighty 78c.
I re-enter with the plan of playing even worse but running a lot better. First hand after I re-enter I open KTo and flop Gin on JQA rainbow. Here we go. The old fart in the small blind – same table - calls a pot bet and in my mind I’ve already doubled up. I pot again on an off suit deuce turn. River Q. The old man leads pot for like 5k. I consider shipping since the Oldman would for sure lead QT & KQ as well but the way the tournament has been going so far I elect to just call. Old Man Coffee has Q2. Good times.
When my second Rum and Coke arrived earlier the waitress told me she made a mistake and accidently made it a double one. She offered to add coke and where I should have said ‘Yes, please do so’ I went with ‘That’s quite alright, miss’. Things get blurry fast. I last way longer in the tournament than expected after playing a decent shove / fold game. The tourney structure goes from 500/1K to 600/1200 to 1200/2400. Really? Who makes this **** up? I can’t remember how I busted or how the other guys did in the tourney. I don’t think anyone cashed.
No seats available in the 1/3 game so it sit down in 2-6 spread game and increase the intake of the double Rum and Cokes. Hugo is raping the 1/3 game. Hugo has a unique own style that can best be described as; Loose / Terrible. The thing with Loose / Terrible is once it gets some variance wind in its sails you better step aside really quickly.
The 2-6 spread game is great fun. For some reason I end up in a religious discussion. Being a drunk atheist is probably a recipe to get shot rather quickly but things proceed respectfully. I actually started the ‘discussion’ myself when a dude said: “I know I go to a better place when I die”. No you don’t. You think you go to a better place. I think you are wrong. No one f*cking knows. It always comes down to the fact that religious people can’t wrap their head around the fact that life might just end after our last breath;
Dude; “Where do you think you go after you die then?”
Me; “Uhh…nowhere?”
Dude; “What do you think it’s like to be dead then?”
Me; “Do you remember what is was like before you where born?”
Dude; “Uhh…No?”
Me; “So yeah…. Pretty much like that”
I don’t look down or troll religious people – I was raised catholic btw - I just find it rather strange that anyone < ~ 45 can be religious in this modern day and age. I really think we should start a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy when it comes down to religion. This **** is getting out of control and frankly I’m a little fed up with having to strip down to my boxers at airport security because people that believe a guy flew up to the sky on a unicorn can’t get along with people that believe 2k years ago a woman got pregnant without doing the nasty stuff and gave birth to a child that could walk on water. Stop bothering me with that sh*t, alright?
Anyway. Wum joined the game after busting and we come up with the plan to go for Sushi later. Damvic and Iebus entered the 7PM tourney representing 20% of the field while I move steadily from drunk to sh*t-faced.
I find myself in taxi towards The Naked Fish with Wum and Hugo at God knows what time. The Naked Fish – at the Flamingo Road / Durango intersection – is a famous Sushi restaurant among Dutch Poker community. Although I think they ‘moved on’ to new spot The Naked Fish was on my Vegas bucket list. I’m too drunk to have any say in the ordering process and just nod at every suggested roll.
Wum and Hugo order like ten specialty rolls and they are all A+. I’ve only been eating Sushi for like two years but this is definitely a new high. I expected a nose bleed bill but it think the taxi costs were higher than the food costs. Very reasonable prized.
On our way back to The Strip Hugo suggest bowling. If I had to guess we went bowling at Gold Coast but it might as well have been Orleans. Don’t ask me who won either. I do remember Wum and Hugo going for some craps after. I’m completely done at this point. After another ‘five more minutes’ I just stumble towards the exit and grab a cab to Excalibur myself. Drop off at the Resort Tower and off to my room asap.
VPC Went Vegas Day 6; The Casino Crawl
It’s 7:30 AM and I’m in a slight panic. I took sleeping pills at 3 AM. 5 AM. And 7 AM. Minutes of sleep so far? Zero. My pills are obviously not heavy so I’m no immediate danger of dying but this not sleeping has me worried. Insomnia really affected my 2010 trip badly and I don’t want that to happen once again. I’ve been to every continent except Oceania and I sleep perfectly everywhere on this planet except for this godforsaken bitch in the middle of the desert.
One look at Baars staring at the ceiling tells me all I need to know about the money I left him with last night. Today we’re going on our Casino Crawl. Mission is to drink and gamble at every Strip Casino. Guaranteed good times. After breakfast / lunch at the Showcase Food Court we stuff our bag pack with cold Budweiser’s and start crawling. First stop MGM Grand. The tactics for today are simple; a well thought out combo of Nelis* - Arno** - Duh Mat*** & D’n Beitol**** roulette.
* Nelis = Niels Fleuren (nr. 5). Left Full Back of our local soccer club. Famous for having the worst haircut in the western hemisphere.
** Arno = Arno Arts (nr. ?) very slow midfielder that used to play for our club. Late for every single duel on the pitch. Therefore Arno’s number is the last number that hit before we place our bet.
*** Duh Mat = Sandro Calabro (nr. 14). Former striker of our club. Famous for decreasing Iebus’s net worth by 50% every three months.
**** D’n Beitol = John Feskens (nr. 3). Retired football player that never played for our club. Ugly as f*ck though so popular within the VPC.
We also bet the number eight. No idea why really but who gives a rats ass when we pot that eight ball in the corner pocket on the very first spin? Right on the kisser. We bet $ 20,- per spin - $ 4,- per number - so we are up $ 120,- after the first Casino. Good start.
As per usual Baars did not make it to the start of our Crawl due to….being Baars. We send him to every casino we are about to spin at but never find him. After an hour we just tell him to go sit on a bench at New York New York and wait till we arrive there. We brick at Tropicana, Mandalay, Luxor and Excalibur before meeting up with Baars. Baars can’t use the ATM today until 15:30 so he’s eyeballing his watch every 13 seconds during this Crawl.
No sleep and a can of Budweiser per resort have my memory against the ropes here. I remember reloading Budweisers at the ABC Store across from Monte Carlo. Next clear memory is a group picture that is taken in front of Fraties favourite Vegas restaurant; Beijing Noodles No. 9 aka Kwok at Caesars.
After a short Pizza break at Treasure Island we try to ditch Damvic at the McDonalds in front of Slots – A – Fun. I think we had one more hit till we reach the likes of Circus Circus. This dump has a special place in the heart of the Filty Few as it was our first Vegas residence in 2009. After bricking the pot dollars few us decide to let it ride on the roulette waiting for the cocktail waitress to return with eight Corona’s.
As a Vegas Fanboy it hurts to see the closed doors at a 1955 icon like Riviera. Either blow the place up or open that classic but don’t leave her hanging like this. Anyway, we brick at Encore but bink a 14 at Wynn and get lost inside the casino. After we go outside and move to the next Casino we bink another direct hit when we realise we are actually still at the Wynn about 30 feet from the last roulette table we played at. I’m sure Steve will recover from the hit. On our way over to Palazzo we experience some headwinds which cause the few hairs left on Damvic’s skull to stand up straight. Iebus and I try to film the ordeal but our vain boy runs for the hills.
We brick at Palazzo and Venetian before crashing at the Venetian food court. I’m spinning on my feet from an alcohol / hyperventilation combo. The rest of the group is falling apart as well. Damvic and Wum want to go Spearmint but since it’s 21 hours the afternoon shift might still be working so they wait it out. I want to just not move. Bozzie wants to skype with Moon. Baars has $ burning in his pocket since 15:31 PM. Jelzo agrees, then disagrees, agrees again to finally disagree on the strip club idea. Despite running hot spirits are suddenly broken.
Hugo however doesn’t seem to agree with the waving the white flag strategy all that well as he storms off angry about four times in 15 minutes. We have to hold Hugo upside down to retrieve the group money and divide the loot. Damvic goes in full mediation mode but the angry ship has sailed and Hugo is very much on board. Whatever. Few of us grab a cap to Excalibur where I think I played some poker before crashing. Others make their way to the piano bar in New York New York before heading to the Strip clubs. Good day out that. Now shoot me.
One look at Baars staring at the ceiling tells me all I need to know about the money I left him with last night. Today we’re going on our Casino Crawl. Mission is to drink and gamble at every Strip Casino. Guaranteed good times. After breakfast / lunch at the Showcase Food Court we stuff our bag pack with cold Budweiser’s and start crawling. First stop MGM Grand. The tactics for today are simple; a well thought out combo of Nelis* - Arno** - Duh Mat*** & D’n Beitol**** roulette.
* Nelis = Niels Fleuren (nr. 5). Left Full Back of our local soccer club. Famous for having the worst haircut in the western hemisphere.
** Arno = Arno Arts (nr. ?) very slow midfielder that used to play for our club. Late for every single duel on the pitch. Therefore Arno’s number is the last number that hit before we place our bet.
*** Duh Mat = Sandro Calabro (nr. 14). Former striker of our club. Famous for decreasing Iebus’s net worth by 50% every three months.
**** D’n Beitol = John Feskens (nr. 3). Retired football player that never played for our club. Ugly as f*ck though so popular within the VPC.
We also bet the number eight. No idea why really but who gives a rats ass when we pot that eight ball in the corner pocket on the very first spin? Right on the kisser. We bet $ 20,- per spin - $ 4,- per number - so we are up $ 120,- after the first Casino. Good start.
As per usual Baars did not make it to the start of our Crawl due to….being Baars. We send him to every casino we are about to spin at but never find him. After an hour we just tell him to go sit on a bench at New York New York and wait till we arrive there. We brick at Tropicana, Mandalay, Luxor and Excalibur before meeting up with Baars. Baars can’t use the ATM today until 15:30 so he’s eyeballing his watch every 13 seconds during this Crawl.
No sleep and a can of Budweiser per resort have my memory against the ropes here. I remember reloading Budweisers at the ABC Store across from Monte Carlo. Next clear memory is a group picture that is taken in front of Fraties favourite Vegas restaurant; Beijing Noodles No. 9 aka Kwok at Caesars.
After a short Pizza break at Treasure Island we try to ditch Damvic at the McDonalds in front of Slots – A – Fun. I think we had one more hit till we reach the likes of Circus Circus. This dump has a special place in the heart of the Filty Few as it was our first Vegas residence in 2009. After bricking the pot dollars few us decide to let it ride on the roulette waiting for the cocktail waitress to return with eight Corona’s.
As a Vegas Fanboy it hurts to see the closed doors at a 1955 icon like Riviera. Either blow the place up or open that classic but don’t leave her hanging like this. Anyway, we brick at Encore but bink a 14 at Wynn and get lost inside the casino. After we go outside and move to the next Casino we bink another direct hit when we realise we are actually still at the Wynn about 30 feet from the last roulette table we played at. I’m sure Steve will recover from the hit. On our way over to Palazzo we experience some headwinds which cause the few hairs left on Damvic’s skull to stand up straight. Iebus and I try to film the ordeal but our vain boy runs for the hills.
We brick at Palazzo and Venetian before crashing at the Venetian food court. I’m spinning on my feet from an alcohol / hyperventilation combo. The rest of the group is falling apart as well. Damvic and Wum want to go Spearmint but since it’s 21 hours the afternoon shift might still be working so they wait it out. I want to just not move. Bozzie wants to skype with Moon. Baars has $ burning in his pocket since 15:31 PM. Jelzo agrees, then disagrees, agrees again to finally disagree on the strip club idea. Despite running hot spirits are suddenly broken.
Hugo however doesn’t seem to agree with the waving the white flag strategy all that well as he storms off angry about four times in 15 minutes. We have to hold Hugo upside down to retrieve the group money and divide the loot. Damvic goes in full mediation mode but the angry ship has sailed and Hugo is very much on board. Whatever. Few of us grab a cap to Excalibur where I think I played some poker before crashing. Others make their way to the piano bar in New York New York before heading to the Strip clubs. Good day out that. Now shoot me.
Abonneren op:
Posts (Atom)