Fright Night! Ghoulie..schmoolie, scary…wary. The ghosts and goblins of Halloween have no idea…I was on my way to work where it can really be frightening…ha, hah, hah-hah! Just kidding!
I’ve written about Joe R. more than once and a few nights ago, when he was playing in a $40-$80 7 Stud game, he looked at me and smiled, “Your night’s coming up here soon.”
I laughed, “Yeah, and I’m going to be looking for you. What time do you want me to come over?”
“No…no-o-o,” he waved me off…but kept laughing.
Years ago, at the Mirage, he always used to tease me about being a witch. More than once he picked up the Porter’s short handled broom and sat it on the chair behind me or leaned it up against my seat. I always laughed at the gesture…it just meant he liked me. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t even take the time to talk to me, let alone get out of his chair and find a broom for me to fly home on.
Purposely over exaggerated eye shadow and wild, tousled hair, on my part…I hit the door of the poker room looking for him. I wanted to go up and give him a little shoulder rub and ask him what time he wanted to meet me. Damn it! He wasn’t there. Well, no matter, everyone else thought I looked great…what do I know?
The night was as easy as a slice of pie, however, I did something I’ve never done before and probably will never do again, even if the circumstances were the same. Let me paint the picture, you watch the show.
Very few costumed people came into the room, although many of them went by on their way to the nightclub Light.
Table 23 was hosting a ‘screamer’ in the 7s. He appeared to be about 35 or so and everyone in the room knew he was there. He stood up, he sat down, he waved his arms, he did a 30 second ‘arm roll’ each time before he exclaimed, “Raise ’em up!”
He talked, almost nonstop, and he cut everyone off when they started to say something. He also had a hell of a lot of chips and was grandstanding every play and move he made.
Add a giantly ugly, dreadlock wig perched on his head, and picture him tossing the ‘locks’ back over his shoulder and over the top of his head, only to have them fall down again with his motions and noise.
When I hit his game, he looked up and told me I was gorgeous…I laughed and thanked him. A young beauty was seated to his left and he played to her as much as possible while he expounded over his wife that was supposedly a few tables behind me. He did look for her once and couldn’t find her but the beauty on his left said she could see her.
The game was mass rock and roll. Chips were catapulted into each pot with six to seven way action every time. The rest of the table just watched him in action. He gave them all they could handle. One pot he won took me three arms swipes to get it to him…huge…and he threw me a $5 toke and asked if that was good enough. My reply was ‘thank you, yes’ and he told me again that I was gorgeous. He was pretty funny and I had to laugh over most of his antics.
He stood up once and took his ‘hair’ off, threw it on the seat, then picked it back up and put it on. He made the comment that everyone was looking at him and I said, “It’s because the tag of your hair is in the front. That should be in the back.”
Well, it really was, hanging onto his forehead.
He screwed the ‘hair’ around on his head, flipped the ‘locks’ out of his eyes, glared at me and said, “That really pissed me off, so I’m raising.”
I laughed and said, “Well it didn’t piss me off, so go ahead.”
He did…ram…jam…repeat, repeat, repeat. He knew some of the players were irritated with him and he played that to the hilt, pressing as hard as he could and stacking their chips. He then went off on a rant about what an asshole he was, ‘locks’ flipping, chewing on a cigar that looked like it had been used as a pacifier for a week, little pieces of tobacco laying all over the table around him and probably on the players next to him too, the ‘asshole’ rant went on and on. “I’m really an asshole. You have no idea how big an asshole I really am. I could be the world’s biggest asshole…”
I dealt the hand, the cocktail waitress came up to take his order, he was half turned to her and I couldn’t get his attention when the action came to him. I tried “Sir,” that didn’t work, then without thinking about it…it popped right out of my mouth, “It’s $4 to call, Asshole.”
Everyone, including me, went nutzzz. We all roared, even the 7s. He turned around immediately, as soon as I said it…as if that really was his name. He queried, “Did you call me asshole with a friendly tone?”
I could barely keep from spitting I was laughing so hard, “Yes.”
“I thought so. See, you tell the dealers at Bellagio they’re gorgeous, tip them, and they call you an asshole.”
The beauty on his left was busting a gut while she told him that I said it with kindness. It went over quite well and I laughed over it for an hour.
Timing really is everything.
I was part of this project. Sweet!
Howard Lederer’s ‘Secrets of No Limit Holdem’