Compulsion makes the greatest pleasure a chore.

I was already down a buy-in at the 1/2 $100 NL table when Grubby showed up after hour 4; two mistakes and a mistake/beat in raised pots will do that to you. I’d lost most of my chips by bluffing a passive calling station with Ajax (he flopped a pair with A9o) and then overplaying queens against the same guy after a king hit the flop (he had K7o).

I lost the rest of that first buy-in when I made a mistake by limping with Big Slick in MP. When it was raised behind me with two callers, I re-raised all-in. Everyone called. A king hit the flop and the second limper went all in. Surprisingly, he got called in both places. A little more action between the two remaining players created side pot #2, which was won by a pair of queens (limper #1 had QT). Side pot #1 and the main pot went to limper #2 who held A7s and made his flush on the river.

“Chips!”

Small rocks.


Despite my better judgment, I decided to join Grubby at a new 4/8 game. I’ve said before that playing low limit hold’em in casinos drives me nuts, and after the Commerce debacle, I swore I’d stick to no limit. But my no limit table wasn’t really doing it for me after four hours of play, and Grubs said something about the limit games being softer than the no limit games. Fine.

We drew for the button and I found myself in the small blind with rockets. Sweet. I was disappointed to see my new tablemates fold their hands all around, but was glad to see the funny-looking guy in the cutoff open-raise. The button folded and I 3-bet. The big blind folded and the cutoff called. The flop came KQX. I bet, the cutoff raised, I 3-bet, and the cutoff called. I bet out the turn and river, figuring him for a K. He called each time and then said something about my hitting my set with the river Jack as he called. Uh oh. He had KQ for a flopped two pair. Not sure why he slowed down like that on the flop, but oh well.

I folded hand after hand for the next hour and started to get really antsy. I had been up for 16 hours at that point and had spent much of the day crawling around on dunes and salt formations and most of the evening drinking beer, whiskey, and gin on an empty stomach. Fortunately less than an hour remained until I fulfilled my 6 hour poker requirement to get the poker room rate.

Finally I caught Big Slick UTG and raised it up. Folded all around. What a shame. Then I noticed the Wilford Brimley look-a-like sit back down in his seat. The man had been calling a lot over the course of the night and I’m pretty sure he would have called if he’d been dealt in. Damn. I’d have to wait for another chance to get in a pot with him.

On the next hand I got a big blind special in the form of A4 with an AQ4 board. I went ahead and bet and was absolutely delighted to see Wilford call the bet. The turn brought a K, a bet from me, and a call from Grandpa. The river brought a J and I decided to bet my two pair despite the 4-straight on the board. Wilford raised. I decided to call despite the fact that I was pretty sure he had the ten. I wanted to see what he’d called me down with and there was the slimmest chance he had a weaker two pair or was trying to bluff with the scary board. Nope. He had QT.

Decide, despite, decide, despite. If only we could break that awful chain, we’d save a lot more bets.

After that beat I was down another $100 or so and decided to finish out the orbit and then take the rest of my chips over to a roulette table. It reminded me of my last bonus whoring experience at Empire. I lost $200 chasing a $90 discount. Then again, I didn’t come to Vegas to sit in a hotel room.

I convinced Grubby that playing roulette was a good idea, but he seemed only half-convinced, betting on the outside while I played the numbers: 8, 10, 20, 23, 25. I wanted 35:1, he would settle for 2:1 or 1:1. I hit once or twice and when Grubby busted out, I got up with an extra $50 or so.

Grubby wanted to go play some blackjack so I decided to sit down and see what happened. It had been a while since I last played blackjack, and I even forgot to put out a bet on one hand, wanting to see my cards first. I saw hammers and flush draws everywhere. The headache I was nursing with some whiskey was spreading to my eyes, but I managed to settle into the rhythm of blackjack. I made some good bets when I felt the deck was favorable and also got some lucky cards and found myself steadily increasing my stack. It was nice to be playing at a table where the other guys knew what they were doing and let the dealer bust. At one point I was up $190 or so and decided to save $150 to get me back to even and bet the remaining $40 on two hands.

With the $40 gone and my tally for the night back to zero, I felt good, but dissatisfied. When I’m playing those -EV games, I want the rush of the big score. I wish I could tell you that blackjack and roulette saved my win/loss tally for the day and I got a full night’s rest, but you already know what happened next. I took my three black chips over to the roulette table and started on a three hour streak of losing $10-20 a spin. I justified it by saying that as long as I was losing my prior blackjack/roulette winnings, I was ok.

By 5AM I was completely exhausted and complained loudly as Grubby and I “raced” each other on some slot machines. I’m not sure what the winner was supposed to get, but I remember the distinct feeling that neither of us could possibly come out ahead in this race.

After the slots we stood around ruminating on the past 5 hours of -EV games and Grubby said something about us being better off if we’d stayed in the poker room. He’s probably right. Then again, if we’d stayed I think it would have had to have been a 1/2 table where I could play without thinking too much or worrying about winning.

Actually we should have both gotten up when I was back to even and just hit the bar and gotten some fried foods. Fuck. Where’s Al when you need him?