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Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Weekend Update

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....

-PPP
     

6 comments:

  1. The kid next to you at VP was MBC? Did he say that he learned to gambool from his dad?

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    1. "Nor does he take subtle social cues..." (Playing in my head - SHUT THE EFF UP!!!) ;)

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  2. You somehow left out writing about being better in life and gambling then the mentally handicapped degen gambler.... way to go!!!

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  3. Dam but the guy who buys him MacDonalds and drives him to shitty casinos couldn't help but take a shot at him, and even threw his son in there. Great friends!!!

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  4. I love living vicariously through you Triple P

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