And So It Begins...

Thursday

I used to have a female (platonic) roommate who was very handy in pointing out when I was being flirted with. What can I say? I'm the oblivious sort.

For once, I didn't need her--or anyone--to tell me the woman in the worn dolphin shots and dirty tank top was luvin' my shit.

We'd just finished a fine meal at a local sushi joint. Felicia had set the whole deal up and it was well-attended by a host of famous bloggers. I made re-acquaintence with PokerProf and LA-based poker hero Bill Rini. I had ridden over with The Epic HumanHead and his delightful wife, who seemed to have no problem being referred to as Mrs. Head. In fact, the three of us had enjoyed a few drinks prior to the ride over. Great people with whom I spent a good twenty minutes trying to convince them to procreate. Maigrey and Gracie brought some estrogen and class to the proceedings. They also brought some poker blogger groupies with them, a trend that didn't continue to the lengths I'd figured. I thought there'd be men and women of all stripes trailing the travelling caravan of blogerati, chicks with leather minis and torn "Jopke" t-shirts. Or maybe I dreamed that at some point. Fellow WPBT satellite winner Big Pirate showed up with his buddy Tim, who, despite being a ManYoo fan was good company.

The only real problem with the meal was the lack of taxis trolling this particular strip mall well east of The Strip. The restaurant called dispatch for us, but facing a wait of 40 minutes, we decided to wander to the street corner to try and flag a couple down. It was then we saw the bus stop.

I've been to Vegas seven gajillion times and have NEVER had the experience of riding mass transit. Hoover Dam, my ass. THIS is a tourist attraction that should not be missed. Ten blocks of pure bliss, I tell ya.

I'm not sure how it started. It has been alleged that I somehow engaged the woman in conversation. I'm almost certain that's not true and that she just jumped into a now-forgotten discussion. I did, however, make eye contact with her and may have given her a smile. Not the dazzling one reserved for my dear and patient wife, but still a kind, maybe even understanding, grin.

From that point, she wouldn't leave me alone. Sitting next to Rini, I edged closer and closer, trying to obscure my face behind his Card Player magazine. Her enunciation was poor. I got a third of the words she barked and none of the meaning. I giggled to myself over the half cig she held between her fingers, that she had to save the butt for later consumption. I pulled out my notebook to record the moment, but immediately relinquished it to Head. Here's what he wrote:

I can't believe the dirty-faced chick just stuck a tallie of Red Dog in between her giant saggy tits after a healthy swig and healthier cackle of drunken madness.

Yes, she was smuggling Red Dog. Yes, you can apparently still buy Red Dog. Yes, she was storing it in her shirt. She was also a few bicuspids short of a full set.

We eventually got to The Strip, disembarking near Caesar's. We walked the rest of the way to the MGM, a healthy-sized Las Vegas block. A long trek for some. Me, I was happy to be back in the fresh air. With people in proper dress and a majority of their teeth.

Looking back, I think the encounter was beneficial, as Felicia was finally able to experience the full weight of my heterosexuality, the magical hold I have on the opposite sex. Power of this kind does not discriminate, sprinking my undeniable pheremones to the lowliest Vegas Crack Whore on up.

Of course, when we got to the MGM she nearly immediately pronounced Helixx to be far betteer looking than I. I couldn't argue. Very handsome man. I mean that in the most heterosexual way possible.

Hand of the Day: I had 4/8 (half-kill) table at MGM pretty much in a head-lock. Tilted one or two players when I rivered the nut flush after three-betting the whole way. Couple seats opened up and a new guy sat down in #2. He looked awfully familiar, but the goatee...I'm not sure. I went for it anyway. Otis! And I was right. We stood, introduced ourselves. It was a sincere honor for me to meet Otis, for many reasons, but one in particular. BadBlood immediately took the 9 seat and G-Vegas was looking to put a hurt on LA. (I had met Mr. and Mrs. Blood earlier in the day. Thanks much for the CD, my man. Got me through a rough--tired--stretch on the drive home. Great bleeping stuff.)

So both Blood and Otis wait for their BB to post. We're talkiing about assorted things. BB finally gets around to Otis and I peek down to see poket cowboys. I give him a look, a grin and a shrug that says, "Aw man, I have to" and raised it up. Nothing like making a first impression. He didn't defend in mock anger (I think it was mock anger) and I eventually pulled the pot. I think it might have been better if I had The Hammer.

Day 1 Totals:

Poker: +$182
Blackjack: -$60
Craps: -$58
Video Poker: -$20
Alcohol Tab: $72

Next to come: At the MGM bar (and afterward) with a swarm of bloggers. Subtitled "Why I only slept...er...passed out for 3 hours before playing in the World Series of Poker."