Confessions of a Cubis Gold junkie. I’m addicted. If I don’t get to play for a day or two, I start going into withdrawal and feeling as if I’m deprived of oxygen. There are two different levels – Arcade and Puzzle. In Arcade, one must remove as many cubes as possible in a given time. In Puzzle, one must remove all of the ‘star cubes’ in a given time. There are six different games with increasingly difficult levels and the time becomes shorter as the difficulty increases. ‘Puzzle’ has me hooked. When I have a funky day and too much to do and can’t figure out where to start, I ignore life and play Cubis. There…I feel better! Should I play Cubis or should I write or should I play Cubis…oh hell, I’d better write!

Wow! It was somewhere around 75 degrees today. It’s way too early for the vines and trees to bud but…who can argue with Mother Nature. I’m thinking it’s time to start exploring my new part of town with some early AM walks. Not only do I need to start revving up the metabolism again, I need to shed a lot of baby fat. It’s amazing how hard it is to gear up to get in shape again when you’ve fallen off the ‘health cart’ and turned into a food slut and Cubis Gold addict. About a month before I went to Aruba last year I was in the perfect mind set, exercising, no fried food, lots of vegetables, and it showed. Now? Scary!!! But back to my side of town, I really didn’t realize how many RV parks there are in Vegas until I bought one (nope, I didn’t buy an RV park). The majority of the RV parks are on Boulder Highway. That’s me; I’m on Boulder Highway too. But back to needing to lose baby fat – this is known as ‘heart attack hill’ at Bellagio. If one walks up it five times…I believe they have walked a mile…if I’m remembering the stats correctly. Perhaps I should be jogging up it – twice, maybe even backwards – on each break. And if one enters and leaves by the Employee Entrance, it’s the only way out.

I swear, TenMile, if you mention the fact that an elderly lady’s threatening to jog… *smack* “Straight to the moon!”

I just caught up with Felicia’s most recent posts! Love that woman.

Pauly’s started a campaign to help a fellow blogger that just had surgery, read the ‘Monday, February 6’ post.

Tuesday night, I played on shift, except for one half hour dealing stint at the same game I played in before shift. It’s possibly one of the worst $4-8 H games I’ve gotten stuck in in a long time. I arrived a little after 6 PM, knowing the room was quiet and that I would probably be out to play, I jumped into a game. After posting blinds for two rounds of the table, I picked up A-A and raised. I won the Blinds. As I pulled that monster pile of 14 chips in (eight of which were mine), I said, “If I win a few more pots like that I’ll be even.”

It did bring a laugh out of a few of the dead players at the table…I think I was the only live one. Then Mr. Drunk-on-my-ass-with-a-fuel-injected-asshole-attitude sat down on my right. He jammed the first hand he played and he played the first one he was dealt. He was an overly large man, no body fat, just big, with a throaty, raspy voice that was way too loud, but maybe that came from being D-R-U-N-K! For some reason, I think because I had the feeling he was going to get totally out of line, I introduced myself to him as he was blustering and flustering about.

He had elected to post, out of position, and be dealt in. He had his arm over the yellow ‘reserved’ button and his chips in a rack. I’m way too friendly – and helpful – at times and I said, “I’m going to help you out just one time,” as I grabbed the yellow button and slid it towards the dealer and then grabbed the rack, tipping on it’s side and deftly sliding the stacks out of it.

He had such a nice smile as he asked, “Linda, how did you get to be so beautiful.”

I flustered, “Well that was really nice. I think I am a lot more beautiful on the inside than on the outside.”

He snarled, “Well…if you feel that way about it, forget I said anything.”

WELL…alrighty then. He leaned back in his chair and then fell forward into the edge of the table. Everyone’s chips slid a bit, I grabbed mine and contemplated taking a walk. I sat. He raised and I looked down to K-Q. I called and that gave me the Button position. One other player up front called. The Flop brought 10-7-3. The first played checked, Mr. Drunk bet, I called, so did the checker. The Turn brought a King. The checker checked, Mr. Drunk bet, I raised, the checker folded, Mr. Drunk went into a conversation about what I must have and why I raised and blah, blah, blah. He folded.

I don’t know why I showed my cards…

He went on and on about how I only had one out because he Q-10. OMG! How was I supposed to know he raised it with Q-10 and I was in trouble if I hit a Queen. I even told him that I didn’t know that when I played the hand. He said of course not but now he was going to take every penny I had. And he said it with gusto, like he was going to beat it out of me if I didn’t give it to him a poker hand.

Then he raised it with 6-3 H and got several callers. The board was over cards and when he bet, everyone folded. He slammed the hand down on the table and exclaimed, “I didn’t have any business raising with that fucking hand!” as he laughed at how he’d bluffed everyone.

The dealer told him to watch his language. He apologized. And then as all drunks seem to do, he couldn’t quit there. He looked at me, “Will you apologize for me?”

I said, “No. I can only apologize for myself, not for you.”

He became totally surly with me and said something to the effect that he didn’t want to talk to me anymore. I really didn’t want to talk to him either at this point. I was saved a few minutes later. He jammed it up, three-way action. One player went all-in. At the end of the hand, the dealer had him turn his hand over first for the side pot, he lost that, and he couldn’t understand what was wrong with the dealer for having the players turn their hands over in order. He mumbled something about that being the biggest bunch of bullshit he’d ever seen and picked up his chips and staggered to the Cashier’s Cage. Whew! He didn’t even fall into me as he got up. He did come back by the table and mutter mumble something and then stood there. There must have been something else going on with him because Kamell came over and stood until Mr. Drunk moved on.

Then I got stucker. I flopped trip Kings with a jack kicker and the way the hand was played, I never gave the ‘quiet’ one credit for having A-K. That hand cost me a few checkers. It was 6:45, I got up and checked the line-up. I was dealing but I was starting on break, I elected to play that half hour before jumping in the box. Stucker! I ‘picked up’ and donned nametag and apron. When I got ready to push, someone else pushed into the table I was going to. I thought it was a mistake in the line-up. I went to Kamell – I was out to play. Then someone took a break out of the wrong table and I had to deal for one half hour…the game I just left as a player. It was easy, uneventful, and then I really was out to play.

The $4-8 games just sucked. There were four or five running but none of them were any fun and they were weak at times, breaking down, starting up a new one, and I couldn’t put two and two together and make anything work. After another re-buy and moving into a new game because the one I was in broke, I was off the clock and finally decided it was time to hit the cold night air. The last hand I played, I looked down to A-A. I raised it, won the blinds…hey what gives here? Deja vu, except I put my chips in the rack and went home this time.

Should I play Cubis? Or should I play poker on Party? Or should I play Cubis? Or should I play poker on Titan? Or should I…