Sunday, July 29, 2007
Friday, July 27, 2007
Monday, July 23, 2007
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Monday, July 16, 2007
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Saturday, July 14, 2007
ALL IN or FOLD w Bounty
It’s been a bad week for the Khan, so I’m gonna try to turn things around with some good Karma!!
TONIGHT!
There is a $5 BOUNTY on SLYYYYSELEAAAAA!!!!! Cause well, I was runnin goot until last Saturday when he put me on MEGA AIOF TILT! Since then I haven’t won a hand, NOT ONE HAND!!!
So, come and get it if ya can…
TONIGHT!
There is a $5 BOUNTY on SLYYYYSELEAAAAA!!!!! Cause well, I was runnin goot until last Saturday when he put me on MEGA AIOF TILT! Since then I haven’t won a hand, NOT ONE HAND!!!
So, come and get it if ya can…
Friday, July 13, 2007
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Pokerslut Tour Season V NLHE DS
Thanks to everyone for playing!
We had several new players this time.
Come back next week, same time, same place!
PG-13
Rated PG-13?
Seriously?
We need to work on that.
This blog should be at least an R!
Seriously?
We need to work on that.
This blog should be at least an R!
Mingle2 - Free Online Dating
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Saturday, July 07, 2007
Thursday, July 05, 2007
No Matter Where You Go... There You Are.
La parte final de un poste de la huésped, no por Zerbet por supuesto.
When Lloyd the Floorman announced they were about to start a new $1/$2 "Low Limit No Limit" table he might as well have just said, "Hey, take a twenty out of your wallet and burn it for me, wont cha?"
Without so much as a by-your-leave, both Worn Hat and Claude Rains immediately stood up and went over to stand around and wait while they set up the new table. I was a little surprised; after all, Worn Hat had been on an Uber Heater only a couple hands before, but I could tell watching him that he never even considered staying at the Stud table.
With the Mumbling Frowner having been crushed like a bug during The Attack of the Hilton Sisters, that left only three of us at the Stud table. Our dealer, sensing a window of opportunity, instantly asked the Large Woman (whose stacks I'd just replenished to what looked like just about her original buy-in) "Do you want to continue?"
Much to my surprise, the Large Woman immediately looked at Trembler and pointedly said, "I don't want to play three-handed, do you?"
I don't know for a fact that these two were married, but he sure picked up on her body language and verbal clues like they were... and then he quietly answered, "Naw."
They began racking up their chips, while I was scratching and shaking my head... and thedumpster-diver Dealer set the deck down in front of her, folded her hands, and smirked at me.
Much to my chagrin, my crafty ploy of calling two $6 bets to make a statement to the table had become a completely wasted effort.
Remember, this is NO ANTE, NO BLIND Stud. It is free to play unless you decide you have a hand and voluntarily throw some chips into the pot! I guess they were afraid they were going to miss bed-check at the home, or something...
With the Stud table broken, I was back where I'd started when I wandered into Your Place for the Best in Live Poker! in the first place: do I play $4/$8 with a short stack, or $1/$2 No Limit... with a MANDATORY short stack?
A quick survey of the people sitting down at the newly-launched $1/$2 game made the decision for me. There were at least two who appeared slightly drunkish, Claude Rains was a known quantity, and the attitude and all the comments from Worn Hat had me convinced that he had "ATM" written all over him (assuming the Queen storm had blown over, of course.)
Not knowing how long the waiting list for NLHE had become while I was playing Stud, I asked Lloyd if the new table was full. He said, "Well let's see, one, two, three..." as he began to literally count the people sitting at the table OUT LOUD while pointing at each seat as he did it.
Uh, thanks pal, I'll take it from here.
The 10 seat and the 2 seat appeared to be open, but when I got to the 2 seat there was Zippo lighter sitting on the felt; someone had already taken that seat. I hate the 1 and 10 seats, but I guess someone has to sit in 'em...
A new dealer was sitting in the box, waiting for someone to unlock the chip tray. I told him I was taking the seat, but that I needed to go buy some more chips. He gave me a weird look but didn't say anything, so off I went.
When I got back with my $40 in red $5 chips, Lloyd was struggling with the key to the chip box, but he got it open after a couple of whacks to the case. I sat down, adding the chips to my stacks of $1 whites... and realized two important things immediately...
The first was that no one counted my stack up when I got back from the cage. I think I could easily have brought down another $60 or $70 or $80 worth of mixed colors from the Cashier. When everyone else had $100 max, I would have had an extra $30, or $40, or $50...
The second thing I realized was that I had just short-stacked myself! While I started with $60 on the Stud table, I had won a $2 raise-and-take-it hand but lost a $38 hand (my ill-fated Aces-Up hand.) When I rushed up to the Cashier cage, I bought enough to bring my total chip buy for the night up to the $100 max for the table... but forgot to add in the $36 I was stuck!
There are times when a man is prepared to look stupid, but sitting down with a bunch of strangers at a poker table with the clear intention of taking their money away is NOT one of them - at least not for me.
I also intended to play pretty damn tight unless this $1/$2 table turned out to be the only one I'd ever seen that didn't play loose as hell. Given my fear of looking silly and my intention to play tight, I convinced myself that I was OK sitting with only $64, at least until I knew I was going to need/want more...
It's so sad when a man let's his Macho drive, ain't it?
As the first hand at the new table was dealt, I took a look around the table to see who I was up against:
Seat 1 - a guy in his 30's who never spoke the entire night.
Seat 2 - Zippo guy, an active and very aggressive player.
Seat 3 - a twenty-something guy also wearing a ball cap.
Seat 4 - a young lady with a determined look in her eyes.
Seat 5 - a young blond guy with a smirk that never left his fact.
Seat 6 - Worn Cap and his big stack. He brought his chips over from the Stud table, and as I suspected, no one counted them out to make sure he didn't exceed the max buy in.
Seat 7 - a boisterous late 30's/early 40's guy named Ralph with a quick wit.
Seat 8 - a guy in his late 30's who talked college hoops the whole time.
Seat 9 - Claude Rains from the Stud table.
Seat 10 - Your Narrator and Guide for the evening.
The dealer pitched a card in front of everyone, the young lady won the button, and the dealer re-shuffled and dealt the first hand. The tone for the evening was immediately clear; fold to Worn Cap who limped, Ralph made a joke and limped too, it folded to Zippo who threw out enough chips to raise it... to $35.
$35. Into a $7 pot.
Everyone folded except Worn Hat, who surprised everyone and flat called. Flop came out with three small cards and two clubs. Worn Hat bet $20, and Zippo shoved his stack into the pot.
Remember, this is the FIRST HAND.
Worn Hat calls without any hesitation. No one noticed that while Zippo's all-in bet left him, as you might expect, with no chips, when Worn Hat called he still had a couple pretty big stacks left behind.
Zippo flips over a 6 of Clubs and a 4 of Spades, matching two of the cards on the flop for Two Pair. Worn Hat flips over the Ace and 5 of Clubs for... nothing but a bare flush draw.
The Turn hits no one, but the River is the Jack of Clubs, giving Worn Hat his first flush of the evening.
You may suppose from the use of the word "first" that this was not the only flush he had that evening. Such a surmise might be the second biggest understatement since the dawn of time.
With a few minor exceptions here and there, this was pretty much how most of the next hour went:
Huge over-raises by Zippo, who actually built quite a stack a couple of times from hitting his preposterous starting hands against players with, y'know, big pairs and soooted high cards and junk like that.
Crushing beats from Worn Hat who played any two soooted and simply refused to be bet off of any flush draw no matter how much Zippo (or anyone else) bet. He hit a flush on the Turn or the River. Over. And. Over.
Zippo took his beats without a flinch, hopping up and running upstairs to the Cashier to get another $100 stack, usually only missing one or two hands in the process.
Others were a little less resilient, and Ralph, particularly, commented about Hat's insane flush chases... but not about Zippo's bizarre overbets, I noticed.
It didn't take long to figure out why he was all over Hat's case but ignoring Zippo.
When the guy in Seat 8 was finally felted trying to play normal poker with this one-ring circus going on, the determined young lady in Seat 4 - who'd proven to be a pretty good player, taking shots from time to time to see if she could get Zippo's stack and staying the hell out of hands with Worn Hat - asked for a seat change, saying "I don't want to have to sit next to my brother anymore."
Turned out that the blond guy with the smirk was her brother, and making it known to the table prompted Ralph to laugh loudly and exclaim, "Wow, you play with your brother? So do I!" while pointing over at... Zippo.
Watching from then on made it clear that the siblings were staying out of hands with each other. Makes sense, I suppose, if only because they have to sit around the Thanksgiving table together...
I'd actually played a couple of hands myself during all this, but missed every flop completely with drawing hands and was forced to fold JJ in a non-Zippo/non-Hat hand when Claude Rains appeared from nowhere with a pot-sized bet on the Ace-high flop.
After a while my stack had dwindled down to about $50. It was getting to be late, and it was pretty clear that Zippo and Worn Hat both were planning on hanging around for a long time. I was in the Big Blind, and I decided as the cards were coming out that I was going to play another orbit and then get out of Dodge.
It folds around - even Zippo and Worn Hat both fold - to Ralph in the Cutoff, who raises it to $7. The determined young lady who moved seats is on the Button, and she smooth calls the raise. Claude Rains in the Small Blind thinks... and then raises it to $28.
I say, "Jesus! I don't even want to look," peek at my cards and find, believe it or not... two red Queens.
I'd played so tight that I was pretty sure if I raised I would lose at least one and possibly both of the people between me and the Invisible Man. I'd never seen HIM fold, once he was committed to a hand, though...
I thought about it some, and decided that even though I wasn't able grind out a profit as I'd hoped, I did get some serious entertainment out of the trip, and sometimes, you just have to grit your teeth and hope for the best.
So, I put my stack into the pot and said those fateful words... "I Ore Eeen."
The dealer counted it out and said, "All In for $48 total." Ralph folded so fast I believe he created a vacuum where he cards used to be; then the determined young lady looked at her cards again, and she too, mucked.
Claude Rains peeked at his cards, and then said, "No choice I guess, I call" and flipped over Big Slick, suited in clubs.
The dealer, who'd been competent but not especially engaged in the game, suddenly came to life and whipped out the Flop, Turn and River so fast the entire board was out before I finished flipping over my Queens.
As I double- and then triple- checked the board, I found that, for once, I'd managed to dodge six outs and win the hand!
It turned out, of course, that he really only had three outs. Worn Hat claimed he folded a King, and both Ralph and the determined young lady claimed they folded an Ace.
I stacked up my $90 in chips and waited for the Blinds to come around, never seeing two cards above and 8 for the whole orbit. When the Big Blind was going to hit me next, I folded my 94o, stood up and said "I'm done!"
Total damage for the night: six or seven bucks for beers (they can't give you free drinks, it's Missouri remember) and a couple more for tokes (hard to toke much when you win maybe three hands all night.)
At least, that's what I thought... until I got to my car and realized I'd forgotten to get my parking ticket validated at the casino. So, $7 for beer, $3 for tokes, plus the $5 stupidity tax for forgetting the validation.
Quite the entertainment extravaganza for a mere $15, don't cha think?
~ Fini ~
When Lloyd the Floorman announced they were about to start a new $1/$2 "Low Limit No Limit" table he might as well have just said, "Hey, take a twenty out of your wallet and burn it for me, wont cha?"
Without so much as a by-your-leave, both Worn Hat and Claude Rains immediately stood up and went over to stand around and wait while they set up the new table. I was a little surprised; after all, Worn Hat had been on an Uber Heater only a couple hands before, but I could tell watching him that he never even considered staying at the Stud table.
With the Mumbling Frowner having been crushed like a bug during The Attack of the Hilton Sisters, that left only three of us at the Stud table. Our dealer, sensing a window of opportunity, instantly asked the Large Woman (whose stacks I'd just replenished to what looked like just about her original buy-in) "Do you want to continue?"
Much to my surprise, the Large Woman immediately looked at Trembler and pointedly said, "I don't want to play three-handed, do you?"
I don't know for a fact that these two were married, but he sure picked up on her body language and verbal clues like they were... and then he quietly answered, "Naw."
They began racking up their chips, while I was scratching and shaking my head... and the
Much to my chagrin, my crafty ploy of calling two $6 bets to make a statement to the table had become a completely wasted effort.
Remember, this is NO ANTE, NO BLIND Stud. It is free to play unless you decide you have a hand and voluntarily throw some chips into the pot! I guess they were afraid they were going to miss bed-check at the home, or something...
With the Stud table broken, I was back where I'd started when I wandered into Your Place for the Best in Live Poker! in the first place: do I play $4/$8 with a short stack, or $1/$2 No Limit... with a MANDATORY short stack?
A quick survey of the people sitting down at the newly-launched $1/$2 game made the decision for me. There were at least two who appeared slightly drunkish, Claude Rains was a known quantity, and the attitude and all the comments from Worn Hat had me convinced that he had "ATM" written all over him (assuming the Queen storm had blown over, of course.)
Not knowing how long the waiting list for NLHE had become while I was playing Stud, I asked Lloyd if the new table was full. He said, "Well let's see, one, two, three..." as he began to literally count the people sitting at the table OUT LOUD while pointing at each seat as he did it.
Uh, thanks pal, I'll take it from here.
The 10 seat and the 2 seat appeared to be open, but when I got to the 2 seat there was Zippo lighter sitting on the felt; someone had already taken that seat. I hate the 1 and 10 seats, but I guess someone has to sit in 'em...
A new dealer was sitting in the box, waiting for someone to unlock the chip tray. I told him I was taking the seat, but that I needed to go buy some more chips. He gave me a weird look but didn't say anything, so off I went.
When I got back with my $40 in red $5 chips, Lloyd was struggling with the key to the chip box, but he got it open after a couple of whacks to the case. I sat down, adding the chips to my stacks of $1 whites... and realized two important things immediately...
The first was that no one counted my stack up when I got back from the cage. I think I could easily have brought down another $60 or $70 or $80 worth of mixed colors from the Cashier. When everyone else had $100 max, I would have had an extra $30, or $40, or $50...
The second thing I realized was that I had just short-stacked myself! While I started with $60 on the Stud table, I had won a $2 raise-and-take-it hand but lost a $38 hand (my ill-fated Aces-Up hand.) When I rushed up to the Cashier cage, I bought enough to bring my total chip buy for the night up to the $100 max for the table... but forgot to add in the $36 I was stuck!
There are times when a man is prepared to look stupid, but sitting down with a bunch of strangers at a poker table with the clear intention of taking their money away is NOT one of them - at least not for me.
I also intended to play pretty damn tight unless this $1/$2 table turned out to be the only one I'd ever seen that didn't play loose as hell. Given my fear of looking silly and my intention to play tight, I convinced myself that I was OK sitting with only $64, at least until I knew I was going to need/want more...
It's so sad when a man let's his Macho drive, ain't it?
As the first hand at the new table was dealt, I took a look around the table to see who I was up against:
Seat 1 - a guy in his 30's who never spoke the entire night.
Seat 2 - Zippo guy, an active and very aggressive player.
Seat 3 - a twenty-something guy also wearing a ball cap.
Seat 4 - a young lady with a determined look in her eyes.
Seat 5 - a young blond guy with a smirk that never left his fact.
Seat 6 - Worn Cap and his big stack. He brought his chips over from the Stud table, and as I suspected, no one counted them out to make sure he didn't exceed the max buy in.
Seat 7 - a boisterous late 30's/early 40's guy named Ralph with a quick wit.
Seat 8 - a guy in his late 30's who talked college hoops the whole time.
Seat 9 - Claude Rains from the Stud table.
Seat 10 - Your Narrator and Guide for the evening.
The dealer pitched a card in front of everyone, the young lady won the button, and the dealer re-shuffled and dealt the first hand. The tone for the evening was immediately clear; fold to Worn Cap who limped, Ralph made a joke and limped too, it folded to Zippo who threw out enough chips to raise it... to $35.
$35. Into a $7 pot.
Everyone folded except Worn Hat, who surprised everyone and flat called. Flop came out with three small cards and two clubs. Worn Hat bet $20, and Zippo shoved his stack into the pot.
Remember, this is the FIRST HAND.
Worn Hat calls without any hesitation. No one noticed that while Zippo's all-in bet left him, as you might expect, with no chips, when Worn Hat called he still had a couple pretty big stacks left behind.
Zippo flips over a 6 of Clubs and a 4 of Spades, matching two of the cards on the flop for Two Pair. Worn Hat flips over the Ace and 5 of Clubs for... nothing but a bare flush draw.
The Turn hits no one, but the River is the Jack of Clubs, giving Worn Hat his first flush of the evening.
You may suppose from the use of the word "first" that this was not the only flush he had that evening. Such a surmise might be the second biggest understatement since the dawn of time.
With a few minor exceptions here and there, this was pretty much how most of the next hour went:
Huge over-raises by Zippo, who actually built quite a stack a couple of times from hitting his preposterous starting hands against players with, y'know, big pairs and soooted high cards and junk like that.
Crushing beats from Worn Hat who played any two soooted and simply refused to be bet off of any flush draw no matter how much Zippo (or anyone else) bet. He hit a flush on the Turn or the River. Over. And. Over.
Zippo took his beats without a flinch, hopping up and running upstairs to the Cashier to get another $100 stack, usually only missing one or two hands in the process.
Others were a little less resilient, and Ralph, particularly, commented about Hat's insane flush chases... but not about Zippo's bizarre overbets, I noticed.
It didn't take long to figure out why he was all over Hat's case but ignoring Zippo.
When the guy in Seat 8 was finally felted trying to play normal poker with this one-ring circus going on, the determined young lady in Seat 4 - who'd proven to be a pretty good player, taking shots from time to time to see if she could get Zippo's stack and staying the hell out of hands with Worn Hat - asked for a seat change, saying "I don't want to have to sit next to my brother anymore."
Turned out that the blond guy with the smirk was her brother, and making it known to the table prompted Ralph to laugh loudly and exclaim, "Wow, you play with your brother? So do I!" while pointing over at... Zippo.
Watching from then on made it clear that the siblings were staying out of hands with each other. Makes sense, I suppose, if only because they have to sit around the Thanksgiving table together...
I'd actually played a couple of hands myself during all this, but missed every flop completely with drawing hands and was forced to fold JJ in a non-Zippo/non-Hat hand when Claude Rains appeared from nowhere with a pot-sized bet on the Ace-high flop.
After a while my stack had dwindled down to about $50. It was getting to be late, and it was pretty clear that Zippo and Worn Hat both were planning on hanging around for a long time. I was in the Big Blind, and I decided as the cards were coming out that I was going to play another orbit and then get out of Dodge.
It folds around - even Zippo and Worn Hat both fold - to Ralph in the Cutoff, who raises it to $7. The determined young lady who moved seats is on the Button, and she smooth calls the raise. Claude Rains in the Small Blind thinks... and then raises it to $28.
I say, "Jesus! I don't even want to look," peek at my cards and find, believe it or not... two red Queens.
I'd played so tight that I was pretty sure if I raised I would lose at least one and possibly both of the people between me and the Invisible Man. I'd never seen HIM fold, once he was committed to a hand, though...
I thought about it some, and decided that even though I wasn't able grind out a profit as I'd hoped, I did get some serious entertainment out of the trip, and sometimes, you just have to grit your teeth and hope for the best.
So, I put my stack into the pot and said those fateful words... "I Ore Eeen."
The dealer counted it out and said, "All In for $48 total." Ralph folded so fast I believe he created a vacuum where he cards used to be; then the determined young lady looked at her cards again, and she too, mucked.
Claude Rains peeked at his cards, and then said, "No choice I guess, I call" and flipped over Big Slick, suited in clubs.
The dealer, who'd been competent but not especially engaged in the game, suddenly came to life and whipped out the Flop, Turn and River so fast the entire board was out before I finished flipping over my Queens.
As I double- and then triple- checked the board, I found that, for once, I'd managed to dodge six outs and win the hand!
It turned out, of course, that he really only had three outs. Worn Hat claimed he folded a King, and both Ralph and the determined young lady claimed they folded an Ace.
I stacked up my $90 in chips and waited for the Blinds to come around, never seeing two cards above and 8 for the whole orbit. When the Big Blind was going to hit me next, I folded my 94o, stood up and said "I'm done!"
Total damage for the night: six or seven bucks for beers (they can't give you free drinks, it's Missouri remember) and a couple more for tokes (hard to toke much when you win maybe three hands all night.)
At least, that's what I thought... until I got to my car and realized I'd forgotten to get my parking ticket validated at the casino. So, $7 for beer, $3 for tokes, plus the $5 stupidity tax for forgetting the validation.
Quite the entertainment extravaganza for a mere $15, don't cha think?
~ Fini ~
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
The Attack of the Hilton Sisters
(Guest post. Part Three. Not Zerbet.)
OK, so maybe "Stud Game From Hell" was a tad overstated. Call it poetic license; how else am I supposed to get you back to read the next part, anyway?
Once I'd returned with my $60 in chips and sat down at the $2-$6 7CS game, I scanned the table and tried to classify the players in hopes of coming out ahead with my mad Stud skillz.
"Mumbling Frowner" was in Seat #1. One of those guys who has obviously had a frown since birth, I'm not sure if he even realized that he was speaking out loud more or less continuously.
Seat 2 was empty, and Seat 3 was an older man with a bit of the Trembles - some of the Vegaspaloozers will remember the old guy who sat in on our Razz game at Binion's. This guy wasn't quite THAT bad.
Seat 4 was a very large woman in a print dress. She was quiet, but the way she sat at the table had me wondering if maybe they built the table AROUND her.
Studmaster Stoney McRock was in Seat 5. (That would be me.)
Seat 6 was an Indian-looking man ("India" Indian, not Native American Indian). He was one of those guys who is really good at being invisible until he suddenly pops up with a raise... so let's call him Claude Rains.
Seat 7 was Worn Hat. In answer to my prayers, the guy who earlier asked me whether Stud was dealt "all face up" was now sitting in range of my Uber Stud Skillz... (that's comic foreshadowing, for those who missed it.)
There was no one in Seat 8; in fact, there was no CHAIR at the 8 spot, and it didn't look like there ever was one.
So, all in all, it was pretty much the standard collection of folk you'll find sitting around a low-stakes Stud table in a second tier casino on a Friday evening.
And of course, there was our dealer, Elizabeth. I know it's going to come across as harsh, but the truth is the truth, and when I sat down, looked up, and first laid eyes on her, my first thought was, "I guess there was a special on Crack this week."
She was skinny, with vacant eyes, and her connection to the game (and this particular dimension) was tenuous at best.
As the cards came out, I scanned the way each player handled their cards and their chips, trying to establish a baseline against which I could compare later actions and detect changes implying what cards they held.
This was, of course, underly ridiculous and a complete waste of time.
Each of them did the same thing, every time; look at card #1 when it came (grimace if not Ace or Face,) look at card #2 when it came (same,) be sure NOT to catch card #3, and make sure NOT to arrange it anywhere near them (but grasp at it in desperation if at least one of the first two cards is not an Ace or Face card.)
Within a few hands, I began to sense that there was something I was missing. There WAS something of a "stir" among the players when I shockingly (and completely unexpectedly) voluntarily folded my cards the first couple of hands - but that wasn't what was starting to tickle in the back of my mind.
As we played four or five hands, what started as a small tickle in the back of my mind slowly, slowly grew and expanded as my finely-tuned Stud skills and my Adrian Monk-like talent for observation revealed the anomaly in the game.
I had somehow stumbled upon the Holy Grail of Stud poker - a low-limit game with no ante and no blind!
I was, to say the least, astounded by this revelation. This was a game that I could sit at all night long while I waited for rolled up Aces - for free!
What with The Universe being its nasty, ironic self, almost immediately after this astounding discovery Worn Hat won his first pot. You may suppose from the use of the word "first" that this was not the only pot he won. Such a surmise might be the biggest understatement since the dawn of time.
This mook won pot, after pot, after pot, after... well, pot. He won that first pot with split Queens. He won the next pot with buried Queens. He won the pot after that with buried Aces over... Queens. The fourth pot, he didn't have two Queens... until 6th street.
He won SIX straight pots (busting Mumbling Frowner along the way) with two OR MORE Queens featured in EVERY. SINGLE. HAND.
After the third one, we made theCrack Ho Dealer scramble the cards for, like, ten minutes or so. To no avail, obviously.
Fortunately for moi, I did not get any cards to play during this stand-up comedy routine by the gods of statistics. It didn't take long before I began to fold my cards without even looking, frankly.
After a nice "flourish" at the end of the run (a full house; something really insulting like Threes full... of Queens) the table was pretty shell shocked, and everyone kind of sat back, stunned - even Worn Hat, now with a nice little stack of chips, most of which from Mumbler when he could not accept the inevitable Queen coming to beat his middling two pair to a bloody pulp.
Naturally, that is when I got the cards for the only hand I played at this table.
Finding a small pair buried (threes or fours, I think) and an Ace door card, I opened for $4. The victims of the bombardment were still aware enough to realize I hadn't been playing (or victimized) alongside them, and fold, fold, (holy crap, Worn Hat folded!) fold... until it got to the large woman, who called with a... Queen showing. {gulp}
4th street was a blank for me and a Ten for her. I bet $4 again (that having been established as the "I have a hand" bet when I surveyed the game earlier) and she called, again. Hmmmm... on the Broadway draw, obv.
5th comes an Ace for me giving me Aces up (and of course reducing her outs for a Broadway straight,) and a blank 6 of Puppy Toes for her. I crank it up to the max $6, and she has her call screaming into the pot before my chips get there.
6th is a blank for me, and a Jack for her. I bet my $6 and, of course, she raises me $6.
So, I reached over and slowly crushed her throat with my bare hands, chanting, "Die Chasing Monkey, Die Chasing Monkey..."
Or, I called. One of those.
7th was not an Ace nor a Three for me, and she didn't even look at her last card - and I watched her drag a noticeable piece of my stack toward her.
When I realized on 6th street that she had, indeed, chased against my obvious two pair, I'd decided that it was worth the $12 price to show the rest of the table that I would call down with a made hand.
I hoped to both avoid some of the bluff attempts that are inevitable in a Stud game, while also encouraging the chasers to run with me.
I do believe in odds, I do believe in odds, I do I do I do believe in odds...
Turned out she chased with an INSIDE STRAIGHT DRAW. As I always like to say, Confusious say "Man who chase inside straight is waiting for roast duck to fly into mouth."
Just at that moment - when I had intentionally put chips I knew to be lost into a pot, in hopes of setting up a long night of bleeding these chasers dry - Lloyd the Floorman yells out...
"Opening up a new No Limit table! Who wants a seat?"
End Part Three
OK, so maybe "Stud Game From Hell" was a tad overstated. Call it poetic license; how else am I supposed to get you back to read the next part, anyway?
Once I'd returned with my $60 in chips and sat down at the $2-$6 7CS game, I scanned the table and tried to classify the players in hopes of coming out ahead with my mad Stud skillz.
"Mumbling Frowner" was in Seat #1. One of those guys who has obviously had a frown since birth, I'm not sure if he even realized that he was speaking out loud more or less continuously.
Seat 2 was empty, and Seat 3 was an older man with a bit of the Trembles - some of the Vegaspaloozers will remember the old guy who sat in on our Razz game at Binion's. This guy wasn't quite THAT bad.
Seat 4 was a very large woman in a print dress. She was quiet, but the way she sat at the table had me wondering if maybe they built the table AROUND her.
Studmaster Stoney McRock was in Seat 5. (That would be me.)
Seat 6 was an Indian-looking man ("India" Indian, not Native American Indian). He was one of those guys who is really good at being invisible until he suddenly pops up with a raise... so let's call him Claude Rains.
Seat 7 was Worn Hat. In answer to my prayers, the guy who earlier asked me whether Stud was dealt "all face up" was now sitting in range of my Uber Stud Skillz... (that's comic foreshadowing, for those who missed it.)
There was no one in Seat 8; in fact, there was no CHAIR at the 8 spot, and it didn't look like there ever was one.
So, all in all, it was pretty much the standard collection of folk you'll find sitting around a low-stakes Stud table in a second tier casino on a Friday evening.
And of course, there was our dealer, Elizabeth. I know it's going to come across as harsh, but the truth is the truth, and when I sat down, looked up, and first laid eyes on her, my first thought was, "I guess there was a special on Crack this week."
She was skinny, with vacant eyes, and her connection to the game (and this particular dimension) was tenuous at best.
As the cards came out, I scanned the way each player handled their cards and their chips, trying to establish a baseline against which I could compare later actions and detect changes implying what cards they held.
This was, of course, underly ridiculous and a complete waste of time.
Each of them did the same thing, every time; look at card #1 when it came (grimace if not Ace or Face,) look at card #2 when it came (same,) be sure NOT to catch card #3, and make sure NOT to arrange it anywhere near them (but grasp at it in desperation if at least one of the first two cards is not an Ace or Face card.)
Within a few hands, I began to sense that there was something I was missing. There WAS something of a "stir" among the players when I shockingly (and completely unexpectedly) voluntarily folded my cards the first couple of hands - but that wasn't what was starting to tickle in the back of my mind.
As we played four or five hands, what started as a small tickle in the back of my mind slowly, slowly grew and expanded as my finely-tuned Stud skills and my Adrian Monk-like talent for observation revealed the anomaly in the game.
I had somehow stumbled upon the Holy Grail of Stud poker - a low-limit game with no ante and no blind!
I was, to say the least, astounded by this revelation. This was a game that I could sit at all night long while I waited for rolled up Aces - for free!
What with The Universe being its nasty, ironic self, almost immediately after this astounding discovery Worn Hat won his first pot. You may suppose from the use of the word "first" that this was not the only pot he won. Such a surmise might be the biggest understatement since the dawn of time.
This mook won pot, after pot, after pot, after... well, pot. He won that first pot with split Queens. He won the next pot with buried Queens. He won the pot after that with buried Aces over... Queens. The fourth pot, he didn't have two Queens... until 6th street.
He won SIX straight pots (busting Mumbling Frowner along the way) with two OR MORE Queens featured in EVERY. SINGLE. HAND.
After the third one, we made the
Fortunately for moi, I did not get any cards to play during this stand-up comedy routine by the gods of statistics. It didn't take long before I began to fold my cards without even looking, frankly.
After a nice "flourish" at the end of the run (a full house; something really insulting like Threes full... of Queens) the table was pretty shell shocked, and everyone kind of sat back, stunned - even Worn Hat, now with a nice little stack of chips, most of which from Mumbler when he could not accept the inevitable Queen coming to beat his middling two pair to a bloody pulp.
Naturally, that is when I got the cards for the only hand I played at this table.
Finding a small pair buried (threes or fours, I think) and an Ace door card, I opened for $4. The victims of the bombardment were still aware enough to realize I hadn't been playing (or victimized) alongside them, and fold, fold, (holy crap, Worn Hat folded!) fold... until it got to the large woman, who called with a... Queen showing. {gulp}
4th street was a blank for me and a Ten for her. I bet $4 again (that having been established as the "I have a hand" bet when I surveyed the game earlier) and she called, again. Hmmmm... on the Broadway draw, obv.
5th comes an Ace for me giving me Aces up (and of course reducing her outs for a Broadway straight,) and a blank 6 of Puppy Toes for her. I crank it up to the max $6, and she has her call screaming into the pot before my chips get there.
6th is a blank for me, and a Jack for her. I bet my $6 and, of course, she raises me $6.
So, I reached over and slowly crushed her throat with my bare hands, chanting, "Die Chasing Monkey, Die Chasing Monkey..."
Or, I called. One of those.
7th was not an Ace nor a Three for me, and she didn't even look at her last card - and I watched her drag a noticeable piece of my stack toward her.
When I realized on 6th street that she had, indeed, chased against my obvious two pair, I'd decided that it was worth the $12 price to show the rest of the table that I would call down with a made hand.
I hoped to both avoid some of the bluff attempts that are inevitable in a Stud game, while also encouraging the chasers to run with me.
I do believe in odds, I do believe in odds, I do I do I do believe in odds...
Turned out she chased with an INSIDE STRAIGHT DRAW. As I always like to say, Confusious say "Man who chase inside straight is waiting for roast duck to fly into mouth."
Just at that moment - when I had intentionally put chips I knew to be lost into a pot, in hopes of setting up a long night of bleeding these chasers dry - Lloyd the Floorman yells out...
"Opening up a new No Limit table! Who wants a seat?"
End Part Three
Monday, July 02, 2007
Game Selection: Art, or Science?
(This is Part Two of a guest post. Still not by Zerbet.)
And a Tip o' the Hat to CentV for the recent history on The Admiral in the comments to Part One!
Having your subconscious a) recognize a sound so faint that it blends in with the background noise, and then b) grab the steering wheel, jerk you into a 180° turn and hit the gas can be, um, disconcerting.
Before I really thought about it, I was walking down that hallway full of out-of-use slots like a hound on the scent. (Speaking of scents: imagine what a really old boat smells like. Now add decades of smokers sitting at slot machines. Mix. Garnish with a sprig of beer-soaked felt for that just-right presentation.)
About halfway down the length of the boat I pass a small snack bar area (curtains pulled closed, no one around) and then an empty cashier station (piles of empty chip racks haphazardly stacked) and then, low and behold, I see dead people - no, wait, they're poker players!
The area felt very small, but I was trying to keep in mind that less than two weeks before I was in Vegas, playing at some of the nicest card rooms in town. As I walked into the "room" (don't rooms have, y'know, walls?) I noticed a guy in a jacket sitting at an empty poker table counting decks, just about the same time he noticed me.
"What you lookin' for?" says he, with a nice smile on his face as he gave me the once-over.
"I dunno, what you spreadin'?" says I, trying to sound like a Sophistimacated Gambler. I looked around for a waiting-list board or something similar... nothing.
He gestures towards a couple of tables in the middle, "We got four-eight," then to three tables around the edge, "No Limit," and finally to a table near where I came in "and Stud."
I scanned the tables as he pointed them out (there were eight tables in the room, and six were in use) and each of them looked full. "Mind if I look around a little before I sit?" I asked. He shrugged.
He asked if I lived in St. Louis, and I told him I did. He asked if I'd ever played poker in a casino before (from which question I astutely surmised the Sophictimacated Gambler guise might need some work) and I told him I'd been in Vegas a couple week before.
"Did you play at Red Rock? Best room in Vegas." he asked. "Nope, we played a couple different places, Ceasar's, the Flamingo, Planet Hollywood. The Red Rock is out of town a ways, isn't it? We stayed at the Imperial Palace so we played at places that were walking distance."
His smile grew huge at the mention of the IP. "I helped build that place. Put all them damn palm trees in myself, with a shovel!
I smiled knowingly just as a dealer at one of the No Limit tables yelled, "Floor!" and he jumped up to head over. I thought to myself, "There were palm trees at the IP?"
I walked around the room and looked to see which tables had open seats. Both $4/$8 tables looked full, and I was OK with that - the last time I played $4/$8 (the MGM in Vegas) I got my ass waxed (along with most of the rest of the table) by some clueless flush-chasing mook.
Fortunately, I'm not bitter about it.
I prefer a nice $3/$6 game and that was what I was planning when I hit the ATM on the way, so sitting at 4/8 under-funded was even less appealing.
The No Limit games also looked pretty full, but I did spot a couple of empty seats. Then I walked over to the Stud table and watched the play for a few minutes.
While was on my little tour of the room another player came in - a young "rural" looking guy with a seriously worn-down baseball cap. Just as I began to watching the action on the Stud table, Worn Cap walked over and asked if I knew what games they had available. I gave him the same description the Floorman had given me, ending with "and Stud" while pointing at the table in front of me.
Worn Cap watched for a minute, and then asked me, "So, they deal all the cards up?"
At this point I thought it was appropriate to take a moment and offer a little silent prayer:
"Dear Lord, I know we don't talk much, and I'm sorry about that stuff last week, but please, God, when this gentleman decides to try Stud, let there be TWO seats open. Amen."
I explained the basic workings of a Stud game to him, including that it was a split-limit game (which I'd figured out only moments before he arrived through the cagey process of walking over and reading the little placard next to dealer's elbow) and how the three cards at the beginning, and each card delivered after were called "streets" and that 7th Street came face down.
He then asked if there was a Bad Beat Jackpot for this game. I barely stopped myself from hugging him.
The Floorman - who's name was Lloyd, as I'd learned from people calling out to him - came by at that point, and my young companion asked him if there were any seats for No Limit. As I chanted "Please play Stud, please play Stud..." in my head, Lloyd told him that his name would be fourth on the list ("...please play Stud, please play Stud...") and that they announce when the seats become available over the casino loudspeakers so he could go play slots while he waited, if he wanted ("...please play Stud, please play Stud!")
Worn Cap asked if there was a seat at the Stud table (yes, we were still standing NEXT to the Stud table) and Floyd pointed at the empty chair next to him and said, "The minimum buy-in is $30."
I asked Lloyd whether we could buy chips at the table (putting the final nail into the coffin of Sophistimacated Gambler persona) and was told no, of course. Um... duh. With Missouri's lost limit rules, they have to sell chips from a central location so they can swipe your card and log your chip purchase.
Worn Cap walked off towards the stairs and was back pretty damn quickly with a rack of about $50 (Thank You, Jesus!)
During the time he was gone, I watched the play and counted the stacks of the people at the table. The people at low-limit Stud tables in most small casinos are usually a little "family" group who know each other very well, and I wanted to try to "fit in" as best I could by sitting down with a Red Riding Hood stack - not too big, and not too small.
Just as Worn Cap sat down another seat emptied right next to him and quick-like-a-bunny, I ran upstairs, bought $60 worth of $1 chips, and ran back downstairs to sit at the Seven Card Stud Game From Hell.
End Part Two
And a Tip o' the Hat to CentV for the recent history on The Admiral in the comments to Part One!
Having your subconscious a) recognize a sound so faint that it blends in with the background noise, and then b) grab the steering wheel, jerk you into a 180° turn and hit the gas can be, um, disconcerting.
Before I really thought about it, I was walking down that hallway full of out-of-use slots like a hound on the scent. (Speaking of scents: imagine what a really old boat smells like. Now add decades of smokers sitting at slot machines. Mix. Garnish with a sprig of beer-soaked felt for that just-right presentation.)
About halfway down the length of the boat I pass a small snack bar area (curtains pulled closed, no one around) and then an empty cashier station (piles of empty chip racks haphazardly stacked) and then, low and behold, I see dead people - no, wait, they're poker players!
The area felt very small, but I was trying to keep in mind that less than two weeks before I was in Vegas, playing at some of the nicest card rooms in town. As I walked into the "room" (don't rooms have, y'know, walls?) I noticed a guy in a jacket sitting at an empty poker table counting decks, just about the same time he noticed me.
"What you lookin' for?" says he, with a nice smile on his face as he gave me the once-over.
"I dunno, what you spreadin'?" says I, trying to sound like a Sophistimacated Gambler. I looked around for a waiting-list board or something similar... nothing.
He gestures towards a couple of tables in the middle, "We got four-eight," then to three tables around the edge, "No Limit," and finally to a table near where I came in "and Stud."
I scanned the tables as he pointed them out (there were eight tables in the room, and six were in use) and each of them looked full. "Mind if I look around a little before I sit?" I asked. He shrugged.
He asked if I lived in St. Louis, and I told him I did. He asked if I'd ever played poker in a casino before (from which question I astutely surmised the Sophictimacated Gambler guise might need some work) and I told him I'd been in Vegas a couple week before.
"Did you play at Red Rock? Best room in Vegas." he asked. "Nope, we played a couple different places, Ceasar's, the Flamingo, Planet Hollywood. The Red Rock is out of town a ways, isn't it? We stayed at the Imperial Palace so we played at places that were walking distance."
His smile grew huge at the mention of the IP. "I helped build that place. Put all them damn palm trees in myself, with a shovel!
I smiled knowingly just as a dealer at one of the No Limit tables yelled, "Floor!" and he jumped up to head over. I thought to myself, "There were palm trees at the IP?"
I walked around the room and looked to see which tables had open seats. Both $4/$8 tables looked full, and I was OK with that - the last time I played $4/$8 (the MGM in Vegas) I got my ass waxed (along with most of the rest of the table) by some clueless flush-chasing mook.
Fortunately, I'm not bitter about it.
I prefer a nice $3/$6 game and that was what I was planning when I hit the ATM on the way, so sitting at 4/8 under-funded was even less appealing.
The No Limit games also looked pretty full, but I did spot a couple of empty seats. Then I walked over to the Stud table and watched the play for a few minutes.
While was on my little tour of the room another player came in - a young "rural" looking guy with a seriously worn-down baseball cap. Just as I began to watching the action on the Stud table, Worn Cap walked over and asked if I knew what games they had available. I gave him the same description the Floorman had given me, ending with "and Stud" while pointing at the table in front of me.
Worn Cap watched for a minute, and then asked me, "So, they deal all the cards up?"
At this point I thought it was appropriate to take a moment and offer a little silent prayer:
"Dear Lord, I know we don't talk much, and I'm sorry about that stuff last week, but please, God, when this gentleman decides to try Stud, let there be TWO seats open. Amen."
I explained the basic workings of a Stud game to him, including that it was a split-limit game (which I'd figured out only moments before he arrived through the cagey process of walking over and reading the little placard next to dealer's elbow) and how the three cards at the beginning, and each card delivered after were called "streets" and that 7th Street came face down.
He then asked if there was a Bad Beat Jackpot for this game. I barely stopped myself from hugging him.
The Floorman - who's name was Lloyd, as I'd learned from people calling out to him - came by at that point, and my young companion asked him if there were any seats for No Limit. As I chanted "Please play Stud, please play Stud..." in my head, Lloyd told him that his name would be fourth on the list ("...please play Stud, please play Stud...") and that they announce when the seats become available over the casino loudspeakers so he could go play slots while he waited, if he wanted ("...please play Stud, please play Stud!")
Worn Cap asked if there was a seat at the Stud table (yes, we were still standing NEXT to the Stud table) and Floyd pointed at the empty chair next to him and said, "The minimum buy-in is $30."
I asked Lloyd whether we could buy chips at the table (putting the final nail into the coffin of Sophistimacated Gambler persona) and was told no, of course. Um... duh. With Missouri's lost limit rules, they have to sell chips from a central location so they can swipe your card and log your chip purchase.
Worn Cap walked off towards the stairs and was back pretty damn quickly with a rack of about $50 (Thank You, Jesus!)
During the time he was gone, I watched the play and counted the stacks of the people at the table. The people at low-limit Stud tables in most small casinos are usually a little "family" group who know each other very well, and I wanted to try to "fit in" as best I could by sitting down with a Red Riding Hood stack - not too big, and not too small.
Just as Worn Cap sat down another seat emptied right next to him and quick-like-a-bunny, I ran upstairs, bought $60 worth of $1 chips, and ran back downstairs to sit at the Seven Card Stud Game From Hell.
End Part Two
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Your Place for the Best in Live Poker!
Or not.
(This is Part One of a guest post. Not by Zerbet though.)
The stars aligned on Friday when The Dear And Patient Wife advised that she wasdragging inviting The Kid with her to see Grease at The Muny that night.
To coin a phrase, show tunes went off in my head. As might well be expected, the recent Vegaspalooza trip left me with a jones for live poker, so the opportunity for "a trip to the boat" as they say here in Missouri - there is no land-based gaming here - couldn't have come at a better time.
I had it in mind to try to find a tournament with a reasonable buy-in and structure to play, but after checking a couple of places I found that there aren't any tourneys around here after about 2 PM or so on Fridays - I guess the don't want to take their tables and dealers away from the high cash game play, or something...
Anyway, a while back a St. Louis-area blogger (to whom I'd link if I could just remember who it was...) mentioned that his favorite room to play in St. Louis was in the President Casino. As I recall he was particularly complimentary of the dealers and he liked that the room was separated from those damn slots.
The President floats on the Mississippi very near the Arch in downtown StL, which is near where I work... and yet I'd never been there. I didn't know it even HAD a poker room for a long time, and since the river front is pretty seedy looking overall, even when I found out about the room I'd supposed it, too, was probably small and "less than attractive."
I decided to check it out - if it turned out to be a dump, I could always head out to Harrah's (which is much newer and very nice) or the AmeriStar, (another place I haven't visited yet.)
Given that this is Missouri, I knew that the first thing I'd have to do when I got there was to get a player's card. I hopped into a line of 20 or so people waiting to get one, and almost immediately found myself explaining to a nice lady in line who was visiting from out of town WHY we are REQUIRED to get a card to enter the casino.
While these cards DO serve the "usual" purpose (awarding comps like free valet parking for various levels of play) in Missouri they are MANDATORY because it is against the law to lose more than $500 over two hours of gambling!
Obviously the casinos have to track your loses relative to the clock, and the cards are used to a) validate your age, etc., when you get one, and then b) track your chip purchases & slot play to make sure you don't break the law.
I was pretty shocked to discover that The President actually charges you $2 to issue the card, too. No one else charges, at least that I know of. I don't know how they've managed to get that past the Gaming Commission, but ya gotta give 'em props for finding a way to shift the cost burden to the consumer... the bastids.
So, little black card in hand and about a half hour after getting there, I finally actually enter the casino. While the entry area outside is quite stylish and well lit, once you get to the actual boat (christened The Admiral - yes, it's a real boat and not just a modern-day raft like most of the rest use) the appearances take a serious turn for the worse. Frankly, the place is pretty much a dive.
I wandered around for about five minutes trying to find a way to go down to a different deck (I knew the poker room was on Deck A) but there were NO signs of any kind that I could see after walking the boat from stem to stern.
I finally had to ask someone and they pointed toward a doorway near the central bar and food court (does four tables and a half-door counter on the side of the bar qualify as a "food court"?)
There was a small stand-up sign with the claim that is the title of this post just inside the doorway at the top of the stairs, so it initially seemed that the directions I got were good... then I went down to the bottom of the stairs and around the corner as guided by the velvet ropes and saw... a large empty hallway with rows of out-of-service slot machines lined up back-to-front-to-back in storage.
I was obviously in the wrong place. I reversed my path and began to climb back up the same stairs (anticipating the weird looks from the patrons at the slots around the doors at the top) when I heard a faint sound that my senses, so finely-tuned from a full week in Vegas, instantly recognized as the sound of chips being riffled, far away.
End Part One
(This is Part One of a guest post. Not by Zerbet though.)
The stars aligned on Friday when The Dear And Patient Wife advised that she was
To coin a phrase, show tunes went off in my head. As might well be expected, the recent Vegaspalooza trip left me with a jones for live poker, so the opportunity for "a trip to the boat" as they say here in Missouri - there is no land-based gaming here - couldn't have come at a better time.
I had it in mind to try to find a tournament with a reasonable buy-in and structure to play, but after checking a couple of places I found that there aren't any tourneys around here after about 2 PM or so on Fridays - I guess the don't want to take their tables and dealers away from the high cash game play, or something...
Anyway, a while back a St. Louis-area blogger (to whom I'd link if I could just remember who it was...) mentioned that his favorite room to play in St. Louis was in the President Casino. As I recall he was particularly complimentary of the dealers and he liked that the room was separated from those damn slots.
The President floats on the Mississippi very near the Arch in downtown StL, which is near where I work... and yet I'd never been there. I didn't know it even HAD a poker room for a long time, and since the river front is pretty seedy looking overall, even when I found out about the room I'd supposed it, too, was probably small and "less than attractive."
I decided to check it out - if it turned out to be a dump, I could always head out to Harrah's (which is much newer and very nice) or the AmeriStar, (another place I haven't visited yet.)
Given that this is Missouri, I knew that the first thing I'd have to do when I got there was to get a player's card. I hopped into a line of 20 or so people waiting to get one, and almost immediately found myself explaining to a nice lady in line who was visiting from out of town WHY we are REQUIRED to get a card to enter the casino.
While these cards DO serve the "usual" purpose (awarding comps like free valet parking for various levels of play) in Missouri they are MANDATORY because it is against the law to lose more than $500 over two hours of gambling!
Obviously the casinos have to track your loses relative to the clock, and the cards are used to a) validate your age, etc., when you get one, and then b) track your chip purchases & slot play to make sure you don't break the law.
I was pretty shocked to discover that The President actually charges you $2 to issue the card, too. No one else charges, at least that I know of. I don't know how they've managed to get that past the Gaming Commission, but ya gotta give 'em props for finding a way to shift the cost burden to the consumer... the bastids.
So, little black card in hand and about a half hour after getting there, I finally actually enter the casino. While the entry area outside is quite stylish and well lit, once you get to the actual boat (christened The Admiral - yes, it's a real boat and not just a modern-day raft like most of the rest use) the appearances take a serious turn for the worse. Frankly, the place is pretty much a dive.
I wandered around for about five minutes trying to find a way to go down to a different deck (I knew the poker room was on Deck A) but there were NO signs of any kind that I could see after walking the boat from stem to stern.
I finally had to ask someone and they pointed toward a doorway near the central bar and food court (does four tables and a half-door counter on the side of the bar qualify as a "food court"?)
There was a small stand-up sign with the claim that is the title of this post just inside the doorway at the top of the stairs, so it initially seemed that the directions I got were good... then I went down to the bottom of the stairs and around the corner as guided by the velvet ropes and saw... a large empty hallway with rows of out-of-service slot machines lined up back-to-front-to-back in storage.
I was obviously in the wrong place. I reversed my path and began to climb back up the same stairs (anticipating the weird looks from the patrons at the slots around the doors at the top) when I heard a faint sound that my senses, so finely-tuned from a full week in Vegas, instantly recognized as the sound of chips being riffled, far away.
End Part One
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