Saturday I went downtown to play in the $160 deepstack event at Binion’s. When I arrived, the inimitable PPP was already there. I assume he hired a custom limo to get there—or perhaps had rented his own personal helicopter. But he was busy trying to find the finest wine available in downtown Vegas—which I believe is sold for a buck and a half a box—at the time, so after registering I took in the scenery on Fremont Street.
It didn’t take too long to find something to prick my interest. There was a young lady wearing almost no clothing. She had on a g-string, a bow-tie, boots, and was holding a fan that she used to cover her chest, preventing one from getting a good look at her ta-ta’s. She was a street performer earning her living posing for pictures. I took some shots of a “Devil Girl” doing the same thing sometime back and posted them here. As soon as I saw her I thought I should get a pic of her for this here blog, since the girl was essentially topless and there’s some silly rumor going around that I am obsessed with bosoms.
And this time, I thought it would be cool to be in the picture with the “performer”, and since PPP was around, I felt I could impose on him to take the picture. So I waited for him to drain his box of wine and asked him to take a pic. He was happy to oblige and we went back outside to locate her. We had to wait for her to finish talking to some guys, but when she saw me giving instructions to PPP as to how to take a pic with my cell phone, she practically shoved the guys out of the way to come over and discuss a business transaction.
Now, I know how the game is played, and that one is honor bound to tip the performer if you take her picture, especially if you pose with her. So I was already prepared to give her some money. I suppose you could get away with a couple of bucks, but in my mind I was already thinking of giving her five bucks for the picture.
I had seen her pose for a few shots with guys and that was the only time she would pull the fan away from her chest so you could get a look at her breasts. But of course I should make it clear, at no time did anyone actually see her bare boobs, because for that to happen, you have to see nipples and hers were protected not just by the fan but by the star pasties she had glued on.
Now, as soon as she got close to me, she leaned in and said, “You can just give me a tip, but if you want me to take the fan away, it’s a minimum of $5.”
I found this amusing, but, OK, since that was what I was going to give her anyway, no problem, I told her. Note, she trusted me and didn’t take the money before I got the pic. We put our arms on each other shoulders and she dutifully put the fan behind her, revealing her true star quality. But just as PPP was about to take the pic, who should walk by but none other than George Costanza! Seeing such a famous fictional character, I felt I should ask him for a picture, and lo and behold, he gladly agreed to pose with the semi-naked young lady in my place. So below is a picture of George Costanza and the sorta semi-naked red-head from Fremont Street.
There isn’t much to say about my tournament run—or lack thereof. I started losing chips from the beginning, getting playable hands and then finishing second best. Example, very first hand of the tourney I had J10 in the big blind and caught top pair, only to lose to some guy playing garbage catching two pair.
Then, the first hand of the second level I saw one of the oddest plays I can remember. This guy two places in front of me had just come into the tournament late, had been dealt maybe two hands before this one. He limped, and was the only person in when I looked down at two Queens. I raised to $700 (the bb was $200) and he was the only caller. I c-bet an all diamond, Ace high flop for $1K. I did have the Queen of diamonds. He called. We both checked a blank, then the river put another Ace on the board, and again, we both checked.
I expected to lose, but not the way I did. Did he have a weak Ace? No. Did he have a medium to low flush? Nope. He showed me two Kings! Seriously? He limped in with pocket Kings? And didn’t come over the top when I raised? WTF?
My thought at the time was, that this guy had never played poker before. I mean, who plays Kings that way—especially in a tournament situation? Maybe a cash game, but not to raise with them in a tournament? Wow. However, as the tournament wore on, he gave every indication that he was an experienced tournament player. So maybe I should play them that way from now on?
I got some chips back when I lucked out and hit a gutshot on the turn, but that was the high point for me.
Late before the first break, I had Ace-Jack offsuit and Ace-10 suited back to back. I raised both times, each time getting a couple of callers. I missed, c-bet both times, and then had to let them go. I dunno, maybe I’m supposed to keep barreling, but I don’t think these guys were going anywhere. On the Ace-Jack hand, the guy called me on the flop with Ace-King, and won by the strength of his kicker. It would have been nice if he had three-bet me and saved me some chips.
I was totally in shove-or-fold mode by the start of level 5, stack of around $5K with the blinds at 300/600. I did steal the blinds by open-raising with Ace-3 offsuit when no one called.
A hand or two later, I looked down at two Jacks and shoved a little more than $6K. A lady with a big stack called and when everyone else was gone, she flipped over Ace-King off. Ok, about as good as I could hope for. The flop was promising—it was Jack-high. The problem was that all the cards had those little red diamonds on them. I looked over at her red Ace and sure enough, it too had a red diamond on it. And then so did the turn card, whatever it was. My only chance was for the board to pair. Sadly, it did not.
I was done. It was so early I took another stroll around Fremont. My red-headed co-star was no longer around, but I did notice perhaps an even more naked woman this time. She was a very attractive black lady who was wearing almost nothing but gold paint. A lot of it, covering her from the ankles to the neck. There was also some black paint at various parts of her body, apparently some kind of design I couldn’t figure out. Through the gold paint, you could see a gold g-string covering her hoo-ha and hopefully protecting it from the gold paint (I assume you wouldn’t want gold paint in your hoo-ha). The gold paint also covered the pasties she was wearing to conceal her nipples. Las Vegas is such an uptight town that a lady’s nipples are not fit for public display, you know.
Anyway this girl had no fan to cover up, and had no reservations about showing off as much of her body as you could see through the paint. She posed for pictures but she seemed to be unwilling to pose unless someone was with her. I even saw a young mother send her little girl—6 or 7, I’d guess)—over to pose for a picture with the naked girl. I found that a little odd, to be honest. I wonder if the mother plans on showing the girl the picture every time she fails to do her homework? “If you don’t do well in school, you might have to make your living this way!”
Since PPP was still alive in the tournament, I couldn’t ask him to take a picture of the golden girl with me. And George Costanza was nowhere to be found. So I didn’t get a picture of the lady. Perhaps another time.
Anyway, it turns out that my visit downtown was a complete bust.
