Let's see if we can make this brief.
I just got done playing the $3 rebuy on Stars. Dammit! 4519 suckers...and I finish 45th, for a whopping $80. Instead of $6143 for 1st. Whatever. One of these days. I just wonder...when I do finally win one of these damn things...what will that do to my 13% ROI? One of the main reasons I want to crush one of those low buy in, high cash out MTT's.
We went to Chef Scott's last night. Finally. It is located in the coolest part of Ocean Springs. It has the feel of The Hampton's on Long Island, NY. But without all the 75k cars rolling around! Just a quaint little neighborhood. And the restaurant itself was perfect. Understated, which is nice. Nothing worse than sushi places going over the top with their "Hey check us out, we're a SUSHI place!" decor. Very small, seating only about 50 to 60 I would say. It features a sushi counter though where you can come in and sit by yourself or a buddy to eat. Right up my alley for those nights when I'm craving sushi and Squirrel is working.
The meal was terrific. Tight rolls, which seems to be a forgotten aspect in sushi rolls these days. Some great 'signature' rolls too. The service was above average. Only thing that I found a little sketchy was when we asked the busgirl/foodrunner for some water to go with the wine we brought (its a BYOB place) and she brought us two bottles of water. At first I thought "wow, nice touch...they give away bottled water...maybe their tap water isn't consumable!??" But then..towards the end of the meal I asked our actual server for a refill and she brought me good 'ol fashioned H2O. Then on my bill, which is hand prepared in the style of Waffle House (hmmm...ducking the tax man here are we? Beware of scamming waiters on your nights off Chef Scotty!) I notice a charge for the water. Okay, whatever, if I am spending $80 I am not going to quibble about sneaking me a water charge. But there are those who will. So I hope they don't make a habit of that.
At any rate, the place was great. The sushi was fantastic, and I am certain we have found our replacement for SAKI! That place just a couple miles from Scott's, the place that SUCKS!!!! So, me and Squirrel give Chef Scott's two thumbs up!
Football in Seattle is back to normal again. Huskies crack the top 25 (gift) this week and go to Stanford and get slaughtered, and the Seahawks...after leading late against the Bears...choked away a sure victory to go to 1-2. Swell. I do get to root for my boy Felix Hernandez, who notched victory number 18 tonight against a meager 5 losses, and Ken 'the Kid' Griffey Jr, hit career homer #678...shoot for his 19th win on Sunday and hopefully a good shot at the Cy Young Award in what has been a damn good year for the Mariners when everyone picked us to finish last.
Now then. On to the tail end of the Atlantic City trip. Before I get to the last night there, I had a few other things happen while I was there that you may find entertaining, funny, stupid or just...I don't know...shit you can use against me later!
1) The cocktail waitresses in Atlantic City don't serve beverages. They serve "BAVARAGES"...its a South Jersey/Philly thing. If you arent from there or you have never been to A.C. you just won't understand. If you live there and your reading this...I hope your laughing.
2) Ceasers Palace Las Vegas. Ceasers Palace Atlantic City. Same decor. Same cocktail waitresses. And if you have been to either you know JUST what I am talking about. Who designed these outfits? And how solid is THAT union of theirs? Wow. I mean...eventually these women WILL pass away, right?
3) Found out from Jason Young...yeah, Jason...not Allie Prescott, my good (ahem) friend...that he had gotten rid of his house in Vegas to spend all fall and winter in Europe. When I inquired through Facebook, yes, he confirmed it. So now I am scrambling for accomodations on my next trip out to Vegas...in November, for the Deepstacks.
4) Prop Bets. Something I run hot and cold in. Not so hot in Atlantic City. The first one involved Jason Young. He won his first three matches in the Borgata's heads up tournament. In his fourth match he faced Matt Brady. I decided to set some ridiculous odds at 5/2 in favor of Brady. Why? No idea, figured since he is better known than Jason, even though Jason has won a WSOP bracelet...that he would be the favorite. I went to Gavin Smith, who will bet on almost ANYTHING. Figured I could get him to take Brady. I liked Jason's chances. And I liked the idea of winning $500. Well, Gavin wouldn't bite. In fact he took Jason. And I was stuck with Matt. Matt went out and promptly lost. Ouch! The next day I searched high and low til I finally found Gavin...and he did a very cool thing. He let me out for only $300, saying the odds were way bad. That was pretty effin cool of Gavin.
5) Next prop bet was hatched while watching girls slide up and down poles. One night me, Phil from Indiana, and Christian "da Professional" Iacobellis decided to try out an A.C. strip club. Believe the place was called 'Bare' and yeah...pretty much described the place. The management was pretty rough with the guests. Hardcore patdown at the door. Cells phones were treated like nuclear devices. Not allowed inside. They had lockers to pen them up. Inside, the talent was interesting. I would say on a 1-10 scale of 'attractive' the average was about a 7.25. In the department of breasts...wow, I was astonished. Almost NONE of them had any, and fake titties were nowhere to be found. Weird. Why? Can't they afford them? And they didn't seem shy about it. It was just odd. In Vegas you almost NEVER see that. Where they really shined was on the pole. Almost all of them had great legs and asses, and literally...EVERY one of them that got on the stage was an incredible dancer, and worked the pole like a Cirque du Soleil performer. I was impressed. Whenever I go to a club of this type with girls, like my wife...they tend to look for this type of talent. Well, I found it. They were very talented.
6) Oh yeah, the second prop bet was hatched here. Not sure how. But I must have been drinking too much. First one was me setting the number over/under for the next day's $550 tourney and its 1st place prize. I predicted $84,500. Christian took the under. It wasnt close. He destroyed me on that one. One left for me to square it up. Oh yeah...we were running these at $400 a pop. Prop bet #2. Over/under on NYYankee victories. When I made this number...there were 12 games left. They had 94 wins. I put the number at 102.5. He had the over. The following night we would watch Ichiro homer off of Mr. Automatic...Mariano Rivera...with 2 outs in the 9th. I had that....you know? Feeling? That everything would work out just fine? That is the last time they lost. Yeah. They won their 6th in a row tonight. With a 2 run rally vs. KC. They now have 102 wins. Their next win costs me $800. Ugh. Yeah I'm fucked.
7) Managed to finally check out a nightclub. The club that DJ AM used to spin at before he took to spinning in the ground...'Dusk'...in Ceasers Palace. Not bad. Really dark. Tiny dance floor. The one good thing was that it had LOTS of tables/booths to sit down at, which meant you were going to be selling a lot of bottles in that place. Which I investigated. Their minimum for bottle service was 1 bottle per 4 people. Wow. In Vegas, you can BARELY even THINK about getting a table without promising to buy 3 bottles, mimimum, at an average of $450 a bottle. Well, they were going for $350 in A.C....which is close to Vegas...but the minimum means you can take a group of 5 to 8 and get out without taking out a second mortgage the next morning.
8) And finallllly. The Taj Majal. That 'gem' on the Boardwalk owned by Donald Trump. Two words. WHAT-THE-FUCK!??? Oh, is that three? Well, after spending an evening in their poker room, I guess I forgot how to count! "The Angle" talked me into going down there and playing in their $100 7pm tourney on our last night there. Oh...what the hell. We walk in. I immediately smell mold. Wow. Thats nice. Oh shit, I need a players card? Fine...go to the line. There is this lady about 54...and I can tell she is dying to ask me if she can cut in front of me. I have no idea why she is so frantic. She has a bit of sweat on her forehead. She is talking really fast to whoever will listen to her. She is twitching. Moving her head all over the place. I am, uh...lets just say...feeling very sedated and mellow on this evening. And finally I can't take it anymore. "Ma'am would you like to go ahead of me?" "Oh! Really! You sure! You don't mind!!!?? Really? I can go ahead of you!!???" Please go now before I kill you lady!
I get into the tourney. I can't begin to describe the players. I am almost certain I made 5 bad laydowns. I was making folds like I would make vs. good players. I forgot, or hadn't quite figured out yet...that these people were literally torn out of comic strips. I was spending more time freaking out over the chips, which you could no longer make out ANYTHING on them that would indicate their value or where they are from. Just a dull color, and foreign matter stuck all over them. And that lingering smell of mold. Even the felt on the table itself felt...I don't know how to describe it...like a sponge that was used to clean up someone's vomit..and then had almost completely dried out...but not quite.
At some point I got excited when I heard they had COKE and not PEPSI, and decided to order one from the ....uh...what is THAT??? A walking couch? Looking at the cocktail waitress and not laughing was the #1 challenge at this moment. No no...I'm not being mean, this isnt even about the girl they had somehow managed to squeeze into this...this....this is what I am laughing at. I guess they call it a uniform. Brown, velour...and just...awful. It made every girl wearing it look like a fucking couch. A big, ugly, brown couch. I order my Coke. That is when I hear Keith over there bitching at some guy...then see him leaving the tournament area. Oh. Guess I can figure out what happened there. Meanwhile, I am losing ridiculously and not really caring. I know I have about as much chance of winning this tourney as Moses probably thought he had of parting the Red Sea. Well...at least, you know...before he actually pulled it off. No, I am not about to go Ten Commandments on you...I am NOT winning this thing.
But I do get moved to "The Angle's" seat that he just vacated. And maybe TWO minutes in I see what happened. Oh boy. Sitting in the 10 seat is this black guy. No, I have never seen him before. (for the record, if I ever DO see this guy again, I will most likely run like the wind to escape him!) In fact, I had never seen a single person in that poker room before. Well, this guy is talking. A lot. Like...endlessly. He never stopped. And nothing he is saying is interesting. In fact...everything he is saying is nails-on-the-chalkboard annoying. And he's an awful poker player. But he keeps telling the table he is the best. Kind of a poor man's Teddy "The Iceman" Monroe. I finally end up getting it in good...10-10..and get called by a guy with A9...and then our favorite retard announces he's all in 'dark' when three of us clearly saw him look at his cards. Whatever, he turns over AK. The guy with A9 was priced in. Flop comes Q-Q-5. Okay...where is the two outer? You KNOW its gonna be the ace...right? Turn? 9. River? 9. Too much. I'm out...and feel like I won!
I'm on the wait list to play 5/10 omaha hi/lo. So while waiting I go play 1/2. In 20 minutes I turn $300 into $520. Then they call my name. I should have stayed put. These people were horrid. I would end up playing omaha from 10pm til 6am. I think when it was all said and done I lost like $250 maybe. It was nothing but a roller coaster ride. The excitement came from the surroundings.
From midnight to 5am there was a solid rotation of hookers working the room. I saw some of the nastiest hooker outfits ever. And they all have those nasty tattoos all over their body. The classic 4 to 5 inch heels. And that walk...and attitude...talking like they are raised in a trailer park. Just cruising by my table...back and forth...I was like...'what friggin planet am I on?'
Then the fighting started. First a big blowup happens at Keith's table. And remarkably, he wasn't involved. Never actually found out what the deal was at that one. The next one involved a tall, skinny white guy who looked like he might be going down to unload boats at 5am on the docks...and had been drinking for the last 3 or 15 days. Not sure what he was pissed about...but he gets into it with this guy...and finally announces he is going to another table. Great.
Thats when the angry black man exploded at OUR table. From the moment I sat down I was watching this guy. Very normal looking guy. Had a golf windbreaker on, a NIKE hat...athletic looking. In his late 40's. You could almost see this guy having been a competitive athlete when he was younger. Well, I am watching him...and he is freaking out whenever he loses a hand. What's stupid is he always had a stack under $100 in front of him. And he would rebuy $100 at a time. Probably 6 times total. After every hand he would give his critical analysis of how badly each hand was played. Whenever he was clearly rivered he would angrily slam his cards down when he folded. "Of course you hit the flush, of COURSE YOU DID!!!!!!! Why WOULDNT you hit the flush!!!!!" Dude was coming unglued. He was in the 5 seat. I was in the 3. When the 8 opened up, I took it, to mainly get away from this guy. So much for that strategy. After losing two more buy ins he took over the 10 seat.
Right about the time that tall, drunk and skinny started getting into another huge scuffle at the other table he moved to...the Angry Black Man flips out! Starts when he goes to check a flop...by tapping two chips on the button, which aparantly at the Taj constitutes a bet. Well, the dealer (in his defense) was being nice and told the guy it would just be a warning, but that next time it would be a bet. Well, dude freaks out on him. So like a typical asshole, on the next hand...he goes to check and exaggerates his check...holding his hand like a kung fu chop and pounding it up and down...saying..."I CHECK!" yeah okay pal...we got it, your a fuckhead and your checking. Thanks. Well, on the NEXT hand...when it comes to him...he has his middle finger extended as he is checking. Which the dealer notices, and asks him to stop flipping him off. That its uncalled for. The dealer was completely right. And should have NEVER been put in this spot. The player was a fucking psychopath. I think maybe this guy might have been a good athlete, and guys like that are super competitive...and they can't ever get accustomed to losing. So when they do, they often times just unravel. And this guy had a major come apart. He starts yelling at the dealer, that he 'is just checking' and that the dealer is fucked up. The dealer calls the floor...angry boy yells..."Yeah..FLOOR!!!!" This should be good.
It wasnt. It was just a big shouting match. Black guy tells the floor, "Im not the problem here! You're problem is over THERE! (at the other table where tall,drunk and skinny was going ballistic on his table). See what he did was use that other disturbance as a smokescreen to act like a complete fucking jackass. I am just sitting there, amazed. I am looking for security. Oh, there they are, standing against the wall. Doing nothing. Huh? Like...what actually GETS their attention in this place? A guy standing up on top of the table...pulling out a machete and announcing he is about to start decapitating people!?? Yes? No? Who knows? Well, finally they decide to remove this guy. Then the other guy. And then it got pretty quiet. But at least the hookers were still trolling the aisles.
At one point this old geezer comes and sits at our table. He had no idea how to play the game. He also had Tourettes Syndrome. His 'tick' was that he had this little wheezing sound he made that sounded like that cartoon dog way back...can't remember his name. Snickering...but it was a tick, and not a snicker. So every time I would make a bet, he would let out that noise...and I thought he was laughing at me. It was a trip. He lost $80 and left.
The line of the night went to the new cocktail waitress, who came on at around 2am and had hair that she had clearly been growing for the whole decade, maybe longer. There is a point where hair just gets to be TOO long. She had arrived at this place. She was actually my favorite though. She was a good waitress, and she was a smartass...which I always enjoy. This guy kept hollering at her...."Waitress! Hey waitress!!!!.....WAITRESS!!!!" To which she finally responds...with...yeah, my line of the night. "CUSTOMER! Hey CUSTOMER! What do you need!???" Awesome.
The Taj Majal is a gigantic poker room, with over 80 tables. They are going to be hosting the U.S.Poker Championship again this year. I will not be there. In their defense, their dealers were actually very good. But the civil unrest in there made me ....yeah, I'll say it....scared. It was striking me as funny and ironic that as much problems as I allegedly cause with my 'behaviour' that I felt like a saint in this place. I mean...what would happen if this cast of miscreants were dropped into the Beau Rivage's poker room one night? Holy shit. I posted on Facebook that I was in there that night, and had legit players asking me..."Monkey, what in the HELL were you thinking walking into that place!??? Real players do NOT set foot in there!" Oh...sorry, I didn't know. I guess I do now. Hey if nothing else, I really feel a lot better about who I am and how I present myself when I go to play poker. So next time you go to A.C.....you should strap on your 9mm, slip into a bullet proof vest, and go check out the poker room at the Trump Taj Majal. Good stuff Donnie....YOU'RE FIRED!!!!
And there ya go. My Atlantic City wrap up! And now, I shall attempt to fall asleep before the sun comes up. Three days til I leave for Aruba.
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