Why I Hate People

Episode I (Las Vegas, Monday 7 April 2003)

It's Saturday night, I'm in a bad mood after having busted out of the Bellagio $1570 PLH tournament, on top of the low-grade food poisoning I seem to have contracted. I am consoling myself by playing VP over by the buffet on the $1 3-play/5-play machines. Two ladies wander by and home in on a machine 3-4 spots away from me. One explains the concept of multi-hand VP to the other: "Whatever cards you hold carry over to the other 2 hands." They feed in a $20, which is an immediate indicator that they are in over their heads.

I infer that they have pressed the "bet 1 credit" button because the next remark is "Oh, I guess you have to bet at least 3 to light up all three lines." They play a couple hands and hit a full house or two and run it up to $69. "OK, and see what I'm going to do now?" says the teacher. "I'm going to cash out." Student nods sagely.

Between this, not hitting hands, and the crowd of people milling around waiting to meet people by the buffet, the restroom, whatever, I've had enough. I cash out and move over to the $5 single-line machines by the guest elevators. I'm doing better there, when what appear to be two husband/wife couples take a Brownian path towards a machine 3-4 spots away from me. "Draw poker?" asks a wife. "Draw poker" affirms a husband (that's how some of the Jacks or Better machines are labeled). "That's the machine I won on before."

They congregate around the machine and one of the wives pipes up "Oh, but this is a $5 machine, so it's a $25 bet." After lengthy negotiations they decide that each couple will put in $100 ("that's 8 hands" says the other wife, these two comments showing that women can do math after all[1]) and play it off.

The group wants the lucky husband to sit down and play the machine, but he wants his wife to do it, and someone suggests "Each of you put one cheek on the seat." This leads to intolerably lovey-dovey joking about who's too fat etc. at which point I realize they've been enjoying the company of our friend C₂H₅OH.

The requisite arrangement of buttocks having been reached, they hit the draw button and are DEALT fucking quads. Giggling occurs. Four "hold" buttons are pressed while the quads are admired. "Can you get five?" "No." They draw to a kicker anyway.[2]

The math prodigy now informs the rest of them that they're up $600 and they should quit. Husbands argue "No, we said we'd play through the $200. We still make $400 at least." (John Gray to the white courtesy phone please.) Wives say "Let's cash out the $800 and then put $200 back in."

I have no idea what that's supposed to accomplish; maybe they don't trust their husbands. More bickering ensues. At this point, I focus intently on the group and concentrate, just in case I have acquired the ability to cause spontaneous combustion via telepathy. Alas, they remain obstinately intact.

Next hand they are dealt 23567 rainbow. "Should we keep the 2356?" "Well if we keep 3567 then a 4 makes a straight." "Well, we need the 4 either way." Had they been less irritating I might have helped but I let them draw to the gutshot and mercifully they miss. The remainder of the $200 disappears without event and they set off to cash in their $800 ticket. This is the problem with the Bellagio, you have to deal with a entirely higher class of retard.

Sunday evening I decide to walk from the Bellagio to the Mirage to play in the Sunday night tournament. On the way, I see a sign at Caesar's advertising Jerry Seinfeld who will be playing at the Colosseum "May 2-3" which I read, honestly, as "May deuce-trey." What's the number for GA again?

I arrive at the Mirage at 6:15 to discover that the Mirage Sun.-Thurs. tournaments start at 7 PM, as I thought, *except* the Sunday tournament starts at 5 PM. So I catch a quick cab to the Orleans to play in their Sunday night limit hold'em tournament which *does* start at 7.

My table is like a $1-$2 Omaha nightmare.[3] Guy on my left won't stop complaining about anything and everything, guy in the 1 seat picks his cards up off the table and takes 5 seconds to act every time, guy next to him has to know how much the bet is every time he wants to bet, guy two to my right is an attention-grabbing poser and rules lawyer who at one point holds up the table for 2 minutes to get a ruling when everyone already knows what it's going to be.

Poser unintentionally provides entertainment by engaging dealer ("HAROLD from COLORADO" says his name badge) in conversation. "How long did you live in CO?" "Nearly all my life. I moved here in '91." "Do you still follow the Avalanche?"[4] I fall out of my chair guffawing; or, I would have, if years of poker experience at keeping a straight face had not thankfully intervened.

Harold, to his credit, shows no outward sign of mirth either (note to self: avoid poker confrontations with Harold) and replies calmly "They weren't in Colorado yet when I left." Poser says "Oh" but continues on undeterred to show how much/little he knows about hockey, which is probably safe in most cases as I doubt a lot of people follow it, but the guy on his left happens to be wearing a "Canada Hockey" hat, plus there's me (but I'm not saying anything).

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