Part of the Saturday night Pan Game (the Saturday night crew that used to gather at my house until I moved into an RV park), made it to Caesars to meet me for the weekly ‘tour and play of Vegas Card Rooms’ – on Saturday, the 11th. Gary and Marie, Wayne, Mark, and me gathered at a $3-6H game; each of us drifted in at various intervals.

Marie walked over from The Mirage and was the first one to arrive…leaving Gary in the $20-40 at The Mirage, he would join us later. I parked at Bellagio, top floor of the parking garage, and walked over to Caesars…no way in hell I’m ever trying one of their parking garages again. Marie was waiting – like hell she was – she was already in action when I entered the room. We took a seat next to each other and ordered wine from the cocktail waitress.

I can’t let the cocktail waitress go by without an extreme, “OMG!” I was completely startled to see a woman at least my age, weighing in at about 50 more pounds than I do, wearing ‘the outfit’. This opens a whole can of worms that might be best left sealed and throw away the can opener – but that ain’t gonna happen. She was wearing a short skirted, shoulder strapped type of toga. Some of the younger waitresses were wearing matching jackets over their uniforms, but not this particular waitress. The first thought that hit my mind was – ‘I’d quit my job if I had to wear that outfit’. Even though I’m physically in a little better shape than she is, I would die before I put that outfit on and parade around in the public view…guess the vanity meter’s on full tilt here. BUT all of this brings another thought to mind. She was/is a great customer service rep and never slowed down with her tireless effort to be polite and wait on us – so why should she be forced out of her job because age has changed her body? She may feel she is being discriminated against because she is forced to wear a uniform that was definitely designed with a ‘young, hard body’ in mind. She may get a kick out of exposing her flesh and moving about freely in the public view. I know that I couldn’t do it. I’d be so self conscious; I’d be pumping iron every day just so I could feel halfway comfortable in that outfit. But I give her credit for being where she was, being completely relaxed in her attitude, and being wonderful from the service side of her job. She was much better than the younger girl that waited on us during her break. My wine glass never seemed to run dry.

Marie and I are proof of the eternally full wine glass:

Mark arrived. He took the 2s, me – 5s, Marie – 6s. Mark is a kick to play poker with…’live straddle’. He normally plays NLH but we had him trapped in a $3-6 game…or did he have us trapped? And holy hell – look at that reflection in those glasses!!!

Wayne arrived after work…he works at The Palms and managed to snag the open seat that Marie had thrown a chip into because Gary called and was on his way. It’s funny because Gary plays only at The Mirage unless he’s coming to one of these events, and we play too low a limit for his taste, but he puts up with us. Gary on the left, Wayne on the right:

The play of the game was slightly askew…Mark put the live straddle on it almost every time it came to him – I did it a number of times also. I got slow rolled by the 7s, a guy with an overly ugly goatee, and it appeared uglier after the slow roll. But the 7s was a lot of gamble and showed any two cards at times so it’s hard to be unhappy with that. At one point when I raised, Gary told Marie she needed to be on my right. Marie told him she liked being on my left…was that the third or fourth glass of wine?

I saw Renee (Celine’s husband) and Russ Hamilton leave the high limit section and I raced off to speak with Russ – after all, he’s a major part of the Ultimate Bet Aruba adventure and I’m going again this year. If you’re in the mood for a great getaway – with poker – now’s the time to play those tournaments for a free trip and a buy-in into the Aruba Event. Russ said they were going to combine blackjack with this year’s event…something about a ‘world blackjack tour’. Hell if I know. I don’t do blackjack, I do poker.

On dealers, we had a few that did an excellent job. We had a few that were horrible, never calling a raise, never moving the action, talking too much, and not knowing what happened in the game. UGH! It’s universal. No matter where you go, the dealing world just sort of revolves around itself, spinning off into the nether regions of dealers that don’t give a shit and think their pocket should be filled with money because they pushed a pot – and way outnumbering the dealers that do an excellent job. One dealer – he was a good dealer too – started to talk with Wayne and the conversation went to Bellagio. The dealer started to express his dislike for certain things at Bellagio. I interrupted him and said, “When I deal at Bellagio, I don’t make statements about Caesars when I’m in the box.”

The dealer didn’t say anything else. And he shouldn’t. I have worked jobs where you would be written up if you even brought up another poker room while you were dealing or playing. But most certainly, there is no reason to say anything negative about another room while you are working.

Caesars was running NLH Sit & Go’s (single table tournaments) with a variety of buy-ins. Mark left us twice to go play in them. He was out of the first one in a very short time and returned to our game. The second one he played, he was still in it when we were all calling it a night and heading for home. The Sit & Go’s were being held in the High Limit Section.

I took two pictures of the room…keep in mind that I did not use the flash on the camera and the camera was on the table during my entire time of play. Eventually, one of the Floor People came up and asked me if was taking pictures. “No.” Lie.

“You can’t take pictures in here.”

“I know.”

After the floor person left, Mark asked, “What if I wanted you to take my picture?”

I replied, “I would.”

We both busted up.

This is one of the pictures of the room. Gary has a ‘WTF are you doing’ look on his face – Wayne is mesmerized by the ceiling or an overhead TV.

I happened to look across the room and see a guy that I worked with in Mississippi – 93 to 94 – Gulfport Grand. We did the ‘recognition thing’ at the same time and met halfway. Big hugs! Robin Liotta. How strange that I had thought about him about three weeks ago and BOOM! Here he is! Or there I am! He’s been working at Caesars since opening. He later introduced me to Jeremy, the floor person/camera police. Jeremy acknowledged me with, “The one with the camera.”

You got it bright boy – the one with the camera.

When I took a bathroom break, I ran into a line, waiting in the hallway for the six stall lady’s room. In front of me was a saucy little hottie, low cut halter top, hip huggers, and lots of midriff showing, that was trying to head into the men’s room and use a stall in there. The porter for the men’s room kept telling her ‘no’. Her boyfriend came out of the men’s room…laughing at her because he was already finished and she was still in line. It was meant in a fun way and he wasn’t being mean. She convinced him that she would use the men’s room. He promptly grabbed her hand and started to usher her into the men’s room. The porter stood in her way and emphatically said, “NO!”

I told her to get back to her place in line. She did. We chuckled over the fact that men pee standing up…she says they don’t splash because they use those ‘thingies’ on the wall. I said lots of women stand up over the toilet and splash – all over themselves and the floor. We both agreed – seat covers are made so women can sit down on the toilet…women who splash suck.

I went back to the poker room. Marie, Gary, and I ordered some food from their food service and had snacks brought to us. And I kept drinking wine. Whew! It was great wine…or I’m a lush for the blush. But when it was time to stop, it was just time to stop. I went to water, lots of it, and that cocktail server, she was just as great as when I first sat down in the game…right on top of waiting on everyone.

Stick a fork in me, I was done. Wayne had a CD he’d made for me in his car and offered me a ride back to Bellagio. I took it…although I would have preferred the night breeze to the traffic in the garage. DAMN! I forgot the horrible weekend traffic on the strip. And I had to sit in the back seat because Wayne likes to keep the floor of the passenger seat up front filled with his garbage from fast food meals, cigarette cartons, empty soda containers, and whatever other miscellaneous crap he throws there. Kid you not, one time when we were going somewhere to eat, he had to pull up by a garbage can to clean out the front so I could get into his vehicle. *laughing my ass off* But I love this guy so I took a back seat. We visited Bellagio’s Gardens – the new look still has the Banyan Tree, just a new theme and more of the tree in different areas.

If you look closely, over Wayne’s shoulder, is a glint…it’s raining in spots in the forest.

All the flowers are fresh/freshly cut and brought in each day by horticulture. When I worked late, I remember horticulture bringing in carts of fresh flowers each morning as I left the building.

This snail’s body is made of rose buds.

And these giant, colored glass flowers fill a walkway into the garden.

This picture brings fairy tale worlds to my mind, but it’s the home of butterflies in the gardens.

So ended a night of poker, good friends, great wine, and reconnecting with old friends, it was time to fly, time to crank up the Silver Steed and head for my home across the valley. G’nite Butterflies.