I've had a few days to recover from last weekend's trip to AC. And a few days of recovery was definitely needed.
MK and I bailed out of the office Friday at 6:00 pm, and began the drive up 95 towards the Jersey shore. The benefit of leaving on the late[r] side is that traffic has usually died down a bit. We ended up making the trek in 4 hours, and were checked in to the Waterfront Tower at Harrah's shortly after 10:00.
First things first - a stop by Bill's Burger for a pair of 32-ounce drafts. We walked over to the poker room, where there were three reg-infested $1/2 games going. Pass. We decided to hit the black jack tables for a few hours before re-evaluating the poker scene. "A few hours," however, turned into 6 hours and, before we knew it, it was 4:00 am . . . we were approximately 10 beers in the hole . . . and had yet to even eat dinner. My session was somewhat frustrating. I was playing a base of $20 a hand, and increasing my bets as I got on a roll, maxing out, generally, at $50 or so. I have no idea whether or not this is an ideal method of bet-sizing. But, it's what I typically do. I was able to build up a sizable stack on a few occasions, but twice got hammered by bad luck. The first time it happened, I had worked my bet up to $40 and was dealt 77 on a dealer 5. I split. A 3 falls on the first spot and I doubled down . . . another 3. Perfect. I pulled a 6 on the second hand. Great. The dealer, of course, pulls some Gary Loveman magic and ends up with 19. Basically a $240 swing. The same basic scenario happened to me an hour or so later while betting $50. I split, doubled, ended up with two hands of shit, and watched as the dealer pulled an insane 4-card 21 out of her tits. Some nights just seem to go that way, and it's hard to make money when it does. In the end, I walked away exactly even. At least I earned some sweet, sweet tier points during the evening.
After leaving the table, we hit Bills Burger for a healthy 5:00 am meal involving grilled red meat, onion rings and (for MK) a milk shake.
A mere 4 hours later, at 9:00 am, I was awake. And, feeling wonderful (I suppose I should be use to it by now). MK was still asleep (it seems that people with small kids are not quick to wake up on those rare days they get a reprieve from parenting). I grabbed coffee and decided to grind some 100-hand VP. I slip a crisp $100 into the machine and fire up some bonus poker at $5 a rip. I immediately get some decent hands and work my $100 up to $150. The entire time, the kid next to me is commenting on his hands . . . on my hands . . . on gambling in general . . . on and on and on. He won't shut the fuck up. Nor does he seem to appreciate how hung-over I am. Nor does he take subtle social cues. After 30 minutes, my buy-in is nearly doubled . . . the machine is hot . . . yet, I need to get the fuck away from this guy. I call it quits and get some fresh air out by the harbor behind the poker room.
Eventually, MK emerges and we decide to donk off a buy-in at the Showboat 2:00 pm tournament. I get dealt quad 4's early on and win some chips. It's the highlight of my tournament. Nothing else worked for me and, I busted out unremarkably, 28th out of 45. MK on the other hand made a deep run. In fact, when the bubble broke with 5 remaining at the final table, he was the big stack. He made it down to the last 3 when variance kicked his ass. First hand, a short stack shoves and mistakenly thinks MK has called. He hasn't. But short stack had already flipped over his Poker Grump: 2(h) 4(h). MK has 89 suited and calls. He doubles up short stack when a 4 hits the turn. A few hands later he gets his money in good again against the same short stack. Again, he loses. Finally, 5 minutes later, the small blind, who has MK covered, open-shoves. MK snap calls from the big blind. Small flips 8 T spades. MK flips big slick. Flop comes 78T . . . good game.
By the way, while MK was making his run, I spent some time tilting off some hundies in some of dem bad machines. I mean, what else do you expect?
It's 8:30 by the time MK busts out. And, we haven't eaten since burgers at 5:00 am. We have, however, already had a sixer, each. Healthy living. Food is a priority; but, not before a celebratory glass of Cabernet at Amada next door at Revel.
We then cab over to The Palm at Tropicana to throw down. We start with seared ahi, calamari, and a bottle of Stags Leap Artemis (2010). By the time my 16 ounce bone-in filet arrives an hour later, I'm goddamned ripped. We eat while watching the Duke-NC game, and then decide to head back over to Harrah's for some more late-night black jack.
Now, to be honest, I have little recollection of Saturday night's session. I remember buying-in for $200 and drinking a bunch of corona lights. I don't remember heading back to the room. I don't remember the various texts I apparently sent at 4:30 am before heading back to the room. I did, however, wake up feeling OK, and found a shiny purple chip in my pants pocket. I guess it turned out to be a solid evening all around.
In the end, it was another great trip to AC. I ended up down $200 gambling (and down $250 at The Palm . . . OUCH!). After a long weekend in Vegas and a trip to AC 5 days later, the cigar box roll took only a mild hit. Hard to complaint!
Now, this weekend, it's time to catch up on some sweet, sweet sleep....