Clareified

Where does the good go

Don’t get caught on the wrong side of that line

I’m almost all the way un jet lagged now. So I guess I should write up my trip to Vegas. First off, there needs to be more songs about Las Vegas. 25 trips later, I’m resorting to titling my Vegas posts with lines from songs about Atlantic City.

Unacceptable!

Anyhoo, I got to Vegas at like 9. Owing to my poverty, I decided to take one of those shared vans to the strip, so I didn’t get to my hotel until 11.

Boo.

I was supposed to meet Vinnay at a hooker bar. Don’t ask me why, but all the action, according to the Las Vegas twitterfeed, happens at the Hooker Bar. For some reason, Vinnay leads me to believe the Hooker Bar is at the Venetian. Now, my hotel is right next door to the Venetian, so I decide to walk. This is one of those “bad ideas” I get from time to time.

First, I ended up running across a four lane highway with no crosswalks. This was followed by a tightrope walking act on these narrow metal bridges that connect the hotel steam tunnels and finally, there was running through the hotel basements and hoping I didn’t get murdered. Because honestly, the entire scene was the opening of a Law & Order episode. Of course, when I finally get to the Venetian, Vinnay is not at all grateful that I am unmurdered, he’s all “Sheesh, what took you SO LONG?! We have to get to the Hooker Bar!”
I apologize that staying alive and unrunover by taxicabs was so time consuming! Dayyyummm.
So, we drive all the way to the Rio, with @Seemitch, who I didn’t really get to talk to all that much and lo and behold NO ONE is at the Hooker Bar!
I was tricked! Lied to! Bamboozeled. I didn’t land on the Hooker Bar, the Hooker bar landed on me!
Or something.

So we went to find F-train. I then discovered that my superpower is spotting 115-pale-pounds of fury across a room the size of a footballfield and a half!
“Is that him in the orange shirt?”
“No, that guy is regular size, F-train is the preteen girlish figure on the other side.”
Vinnay doubted me until we got about halfway there.
“Oh yeah.”
I shoulda bet him a dollar.
I talked to Captain bringdown for about twenty minutes before he shooed me away because he was “working.”
I do not understand these people who do not drop everything to entertain me. The hell?! Do they not know who I am?!
Lucko was deep in a tournament on the other side of the room, so Vinnay and I railed him for a bit and chatted with the lovely Lana.
Then I decided I was hungry.
“Whatever you do, don’t go to the Poker Bar. People have been getting sick!” She advised us.
Okay. No Poker Bar. Check.
Vinnay says he’ll come with. We walk around the casino, Vinnay throwing out restaurant suggestions in the following manner:
We could go to the burger place, but it’s probably closed.
We could go to the Irish place, but it’s probably closed.
We could do Indian, but I’m not sure if they’re open.
DUUUUUDE.
And so you KNOW what he says next, right?
“Look, the Poker Bar is right here…just don’t order anything with mayonnaise.”
This is when it occurs to me, he is actually trying to kill me. First directing me to the Venetian deathtrap, NOW this!
It’s not my fault I am AWESOME and crushed the football quiz he wrote! Geeez!
Caitycaity, who was also out in Vegas, texted me and we finally settled on this American bar on the casino floor. I used my Diamond card status to shorten our wait by a good four or five minutes. They’re welcome.

After dinner, we hit the poker table. They were playing the big stake game, so I wanted to play it too.
They bought in for $500, I bought in for 100. Vinnay laughed and pointed.
The first hand I played, I threw $37 into the pot over three streets with middle pair tens, nine kicker, but Vinnay won the hand with middle pair tens, queen kicker.
So I knocked over his stack.
Caity called this a “party foul.”
OH! Also, the Rio has these people called “chip runners.” I give them my hundred dollar bill and they bring me chips. So the guy brought me and Vinnay our chips, and I kinda saw Vinnay tip him, but by the time I did the “oh, I guess I should tip him too,” thing, he was gone. The next time I saw him, he made a random joke and I remembered, oh, I owe him a tip, so I gave it to him and he thought I was tipping him for the joke cause I was an awesome person. Which, really, I am. Anyway, this causes him to keep sending the drink guy over to our table and since I didn’t want to be rude, I then started doing rapid fire double shots of Glenlivet.

The other players are nursing Rolling Rock beers.

Now, the rest of this story may be disputed by other eye witnesses, but I assure you, they are haters.

And probably racists.

So, I’m playing and drinking, but alcohol doesn’t affect me, so I’m doing okay until Caity stacks me when she hits a set of Kings against my set of sevens.
She then goes “I wish you had more money.”
See??? Raayyyyciiisssttts!
I rebuy, and this happens.

I have about $86 and this guy raises to $25, one guy calls and I look down at AKoff. This is a strong starting hand, so I go all-in.
The original raiser calls. We don’t turn over till the 8 high flop. He shows pocket eights.
I’m drawing dead. Ish.
Caity goes “you got runner runner spades…”
Sure enough…turn spade…river? SPADE!
I’m aallliiivveeeee!
Eights guy? Unhappy and he starts drinking!
Yeeeaaahhhh!
Then THIS happens.
I raise with Le Dawn of hearts: KT, everybody calls because they foolishly think I am drunk. HELLO, set! AK! I am playing AMAZEBALLS!
Anyway, flop is AQJ! DUUUDE. It’s checked to me and I go all in for my more than $200!
Hahahahaha!

I put my head down on the rail.

Just because.

Sometimes I do that. It had nothing to do with the shots.
It folds to this guy in the 8 seat. He thinks forever and then he says, “if I fold, will you show”? I sit up, nod and say “yeah, sure. I just want you to fold.”
Five seconds later he snap calls me with Ace rag! LOLZ!
Double up!
So now I have a billion dollars. (#Math #Girl)
Vinnay starts to get up and I’m all “where you going?”
He goes “um…bathroom.”
I say “Okay, wait up. I’ll come with you.”
This will later be recounted as evidence that I could barely walk on my own. However, I totally could have. It’s just that a casino is a dangerous place. ANYTHING could happen to me in the 100 yards between our poker table and the bathroom in the hallway.

I could have been kidnapped! Beaten! Robbed!

Pardon me for thinking the hardscrabble, raised in the Toughalo, Vinnay could fend off the dangerous predators roaming the halls of the Rio. #RUDE

Anyway, after the way upright, non stumbling at all trip to the loo (I’ll give the British that much, they make the bathroom sound classy.) Vinnay told Caity that he thought I should just stay in her room at the Rio for the night instead of going back to Harrah’s. Evidently, Caity thought I was drunk and would yak all over her room, so she abandoned her chips at the table and disappeared! (#Truestory She didn’t turn up again for almost 22 hours!)
Anyway, I was fine, but the table kinda got dead, so I decided to go back to Harrah’s.
I had no trouble finding the front doors. Though, there was an interesting spot on the carpet that I wanted to get a closer look at, so I spent a few minutes doing that.
Then I caught a cab and went to bed. I woke up for the US match in the semis of the World Cup. Vinnay, on the other hand, stayed up all night, stacked the last woman remaining at the poker table, won a grand on the US tie with Slovenia and went to bed at like 11 AM…completely missing my April day!
Stay tuned…for the #nobffday April day post.

6 Responses to “Don’t get caught on the wrong side of that line”

  1. Alceste Says:

    Awful lot of poker for Clareified — and how did you have such a hard time getting to the venetian? (minibar?)

  2. Dawn Summers Says:

    Imma fight you.

  3. April Says:

    EDGE. OF. MY. SEAT.

  4. Drizztdj Says:

    Clearly I need to actually play poker this December to sit with Drunk Dawn because the stories will write themselves.

  5. Dawn Summers Says:

    I was NOT DRUNK!!!

  6. Roseann Says:

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