WSOP 2005 Day 1
Day one was a hellish day of travelling. My flights were REALLY delayed, etc... The bottle of water I had at my feet froze on the plane, so that's a pretty decent indication of how cold my feet were. Basically, it was a case of a bad beat and a bad seat draw. The bad beat was that I HAD a good seat but someone else had a boarding pass showing the same spot. For some reason, I was the one who had to move. The bad seat draw came next, with the cold feet. I was right up against an emergency exit hatch, which appeared to be half-open, which was letting a lot of freezing air into the plane. Why this was a non-issue with the flight staff is beyond my comprehension.
I freaked out my neighbours by laughing hysterically while listening to "Another One Bites the Dust" on the plane's music system. Here's why: next time you hear the song, picture yourself quickly walking (strutting) around a poker table in time to the beat of the music, a la Mick Jagger. Then, picture yourself pointing at various players while you're walking (strutting), on the lines: "and another one's gone, another one's gone, another one bites the dust".
Maybe it's just me.
When we landed in Vegas, I listened to the guy in front of me make a panicked phone call to his friend, who was clearly at the Rio. I heard the guy say "well, what about the POT limit event?!?" From this, I gathered that the no-limit event was sold out. Holy shit.
I hopped in a cab, went to the Orleans, threw my stuff in my room, hopped in a cab, went to the Rio, and met Dave in the WSOP registration area. It was a zoo, a nightmare. It was poker hell. People were spending 5 hours in line-ups. Not me, though! No sirree. On Dave's recommendation, I had wire transfered my entries to the Rio a couple of weeks earlier. No lineups, not one, and I was given my ID card and my seat assignments for all three events.
Me and Dave then went to meet Ralph and Bob in a bar that featured mostly naked hot waitresses who occasionally stood on tables and danced with a flashlight which they pointed at their delicate areas despite the fact that the delicate areas were covered, but just barely.
I'd never met Bob before, and I'd only met Ralph once, briefly. Both of them are extremely nice guys, and very talented poker players to boot. And I think that both of them had been celebrating their arrivals in Vegas for a good long while.
In the bar, six very unattractive girls tried to hustle us for chips. One of them threw up on the floor. When Rio security arrived, she explained that she only puked once, and that it wouldn't happen again. Unbelievably, security STILL threw her out.
On the way out of the Rio, Dave walked up to random drunk people and tried to interview them about the WSOP, using his voice recorder. Hanging out with Dave is, in general, not boring. He's not shy. His pleasant demeanour managed to extract a couple of reluctant interviews from people who had no idea what the WSOP is, let alone that it is happening at the Rio.
We got in a cab, and by some bizarre coincidence, it was the same driver who took me from the airport to the Orleans. There are a LOT of cabs in Vegas. I viewed this coincidence as a good sign, but I wasn't sure exactly why. I lost the coin flip for the cab, but I won the coin flip for the late-night snack, so it was a push. I went to bed, astounded and amazed that I'd been in Vegas for 4 hours or so and I hadn't gambled at all.
I freaked out my neighbours by laughing hysterically while listening to "Another One Bites the Dust" on the plane's music system. Here's why: next time you hear the song, picture yourself quickly walking (strutting) around a poker table in time to the beat of the music, a la Mick Jagger. Then, picture yourself pointing at various players while you're walking (strutting), on the lines: "and another one's gone, another one's gone, another one bites the dust".
Maybe it's just me.
When we landed in Vegas, I listened to the guy in front of me make a panicked phone call to his friend, who was clearly at the Rio. I heard the guy say "well, what about the POT limit event?!?" From this, I gathered that the no-limit event was sold out. Holy shit.
I hopped in a cab, went to the Orleans, threw my stuff in my room, hopped in a cab, went to the Rio, and met Dave in the WSOP registration area. It was a zoo, a nightmare. It was poker hell. People were spending 5 hours in line-ups. Not me, though! No sirree. On Dave's recommendation, I had wire transfered my entries to the Rio a couple of weeks earlier. No lineups, not one, and I was given my ID card and my seat assignments for all three events.
Me and Dave then went to meet Ralph and Bob in a bar that featured mostly naked hot waitresses who occasionally stood on tables and danced with a flashlight which they pointed at their delicate areas despite the fact that the delicate areas were covered, but just barely.
I'd never met Bob before, and I'd only met Ralph once, briefly. Both of them are extremely nice guys, and very talented poker players to boot. And I think that both of them had been celebrating their arrivals in Vegas for a good long while.
In the bar, six very unattractive girls tried to hustle us for chips. One of them threw up on the floor. When Rio security arrived, she explained that she only puked once, and that it wouldn't happen again. Unbelievably, security STILL threw her out.
On the way out of the Rio, Dave walked up to random drunk people and tried to interview them about the WSOP, using his voice recorder. Hanging out with Dave is, in general, not boring. He's not shy. His pleasant demeanour managed to extract a couple of reluctant interviews from people who had no idea what the WSOP is, let alone that it is happening at the Rio.
We got in a cab, and by some bizarre coincidence, it was the same driver who took me from the airport to the Orleans. There are a LOT of cabs in Vegas. I viewed this coincidence as a good sign, but I wasn't sure exactly why. I lost the coin flip for the cab, but I won the coin flip for the late-night snack, so it was a push. I went to bed, astounded and amazed that I'd been in Vegas for 4 hours or so and I hadn't gambled at all.
Comments
OMG! Freaking hilarious!
It isn't just you...Â
Are you sure that it was only your feet were frozen, or had the ice crystals started forming a little farther northward in the gray matter?
In any case, nice foreshadowing.
Look at it this way. At least you couldn't spill the bottle of water all over yourself like last time.
Mine too. I'd probably write a scathing complaint letter about this, if I was actually the type of person who wrote a lot of scathing complaint letters. Seriously though, this seems outrageous to me.
Great post, and I'm looking forward to reading more.
ScottyZ
Would it be over the top....
if the Team Canuck members walked into the WSOP together, with a boom box blasting out the tune, while they pointed at random players and as the song got to that phrase, they jerk their thumbs at people with the classic baseball umpire" you're out" symbol. lmao
And to top it all off, if any one of you wins at the WSOP, you all walk out together, singing along to "We are the Champions" blasting from the boombox. lol
OK, maybe even for Vegas that would be a little bit too much "in yer face"
I thought they already did this. I heard it made Phil Hellmuth real jealous.
What you forgot, I think, was Dave S jumping up and down with his kilt and beaver, and repeatedly yelling out "PAI GOW!" at the top of his lungs like he was some kind of a pirate.
It's possible that I misinterpreted when I "read between the lines" of all_aces' posts, but I thought the implications re: their antics were clear enough.
ScottyZ
I know, but the key is that you're strutting like Mick Jagger. Somehow, 'strutting like Freddy Mercury' just doesn't have the same resonance.
You meant to say you'd been in Vegas 4 hours and only gambled twice. Those coin flips count.
And Dave does sound like a fun guy on the road. lol
but i could totally picture the poker table version ... next time you're strutting at a home poker game, people will now know exactly what you're thinking