Its All Coming Back to me Now (Vegas Part Deux)

Let’s see, where was I… Las Vegas, bender, play date, older, wiser, work, poker… OH YEAH! Now I remember! I was playing poker at the Venetian - $1/$2 No Limit Hold’em. [If you missed last week’s piece, you’ll need to go back and read it before going any further. Why? Because I can’t remember everything I wrote last week and explain it all over again just for you, that’s why. You think I keep a copy of everything I write? Ha! A lot you know. As soon as I finish my weekly article, with minutes to spare before the deadline, I quickly scan it for typpos and email as fast as I can to my editor/publisher. Then I delete the file, burn all my notes, and pour a shot of whiskey to celebrate my little victory.]

So there I was, sitting at a poker table in the Venetian wondering how I got there… Hours before arriving in the casino I’d made the rounds at the industry parties hosted at the Tao nightclub. I do mean parties, plural. You see, when I arrived at Tao (THE hottest nightclub on the strip… when someone else besides the techno-geeks are in town) I somehow managed to get in line for the Asian-Pacific Sales Team party. Despite not having the proper credentials to get into the party, the bouncer stamped my hand and let me in. Guess my bulging muscles intimidated the 6’6” 300 pound sumo wrestler-looking dude. Or he just didn’t care who got in the party, even if everyone else in line was Japanese, Chinese, Korean, or Taiwanese. When I arrived at the (open) bar I did wonder why I was the only guy over six feet tall and I wondered where the rest of my “crew” was hanging out. After a few shots of whiskey I didn’t care and settled into a nice lounge chair along the side of the pool to wait for my coworkers. My phone rang – it was my boss asking where I was. “I’m at the party” I replied. “Which one? There’s four of them tonight” was his response. Hmmm. Good question. I wandered back toward the stairwell to see I could unravel this mystery. As look would have it, I’d somehow missed the big 6’x8’ banner at the top of the stairs that said “Welcome Asia-Pacific Team Members.” Without skipping I beat I downed the rest of my whiskey and headed down the stairs looking for the right party.

On the third floor of the nightclub (there are four floors, including the rooftop pool) I found my boss and another open bar. After a few Stoli and Redbulls I was in my happy place, which is to say I was feeling no pain and didn’t care if I was at the right party or the wrong party. James Belushi, brother of the late, great Jim Belushi, was the entertainment for the night. He and his band played great renditions of all the blues classics… none of which I know by name, I just know they sound good. Other folks were in their happy places too, as evidenced by the number of ladies James convinced to dance on stage with him… and dance on tables, chairs, pretty much anywhere they could get away with it. This was shaping up to be a great party, so I left. I forgot to eat dinner before I got to the club and I was pretty hungry.

I made my way down to the third floor and found the dinner party that was part of the drinking party on the third floor. It was really a buffet, but I didn’t protest. I got in line, filled my plate with all kinds of rice, chicken, dumplings, etc. and made my way to the nearest table. A waiter stopped by to get my drink order (more Stoli and Redbull!) while I dove into my plate. A few bites into my meal I noticed that there were other people at the table, all staring at my plate. “Where did you get that?” someone asked. “Um (chew chew) over there, around (chew, swallow) the corner” I replied. I quickly realized that I’d taken a spot at the table without introducing myself or bothering to ask if they would have me join them. I did introduce myself to three fellas from the UK, one of whom was from Manchester, the birthplace of my maternal grandmother. As soon as I professed a love for European football (known in America as “soccer”) all was forgiven and I spent the next hour talking with them about the European Cup, World Cup, and the Olympics… as well as plugging my company’s products.

I soon realized that it was later than I thought and if I wanted to play any poker before flying home the next day I’d better get to the casino soon. I exchanged business cards with the three gentlemen and wished them all good luck at the blackjack tables, their game of choice. Despite the abundance of free drinks I’d consumed that evening I felt pretty good. Living over 9,000 feet definitely helps when you visit the lowlands… and so does weighing over 200 pounds. I was ready for some poker!

To make a long story short, and not bore 99.9% of you with all the details of my poker hands, I left the poker table 7 hours after I sat down with just over twice the money I started with. Nothing spectacular, but pretty good in my book for a Vegas poker rookie. Perhaps I’ll get back to Vegas before another twelve years goes by.