I’m sincere when I tell you I laughed my ass off through most of my play in a $4-8H game at Bellagio last night. Sometimes you just have to be there to get the full effect, and for the most part, that’s exactly the way this is but I’ll try to paint the picture so you get half as big a kick out of it as I did.

The 1s was open, that was me, Table 22. Day shift was still on and I didn’t know the dealer, just as well, as most dealers have a tendency to get on my nerves anyway. They can’t just do their job.This one couldn’t either. He was trying to shine on for the4 and 5s. They were young, funny, totally off the wall, completely confident in themselves, and cuter than hell chicks.

They sort of knew what the game was all about, but not quite the etiquette or what to do in certain positions and how to play certain hands. They made a shambles of the ‘one player to a hand rule’ and had me and most of the players at the table in hysterics. It is possible that sometimes discussing a hand between two people should be allowed, in special circumstances. Mori Eskandani perhaps said it best once, “The person giving the advice is worse than the person playing. One player to a hand is sometimes a very bad rule.” *gales of laughter*

These girls are on my ‘A’ list. Not only were they a total hoot and rip in the game, they came to play poker. They weren’t trying to be little Miss My Breasts Speak For Me, or putting on any airs. They were enthusiastic, swearing every time they got a hand beat, “Fuck!” and a lot more. On the swearing issue, I found it amazing that not one male (it was all guys except me and the two cuties) swore over anything. Out of the four dealers I sat through, all male, all trying to impress the cuties, only one of them even mentioned the swearing issue. It went like this:

“Fuck. I can’t believe I lost that hand!”

Ted, the dealer, “Not so loud.”

“Oh…sorry.”

Ted, “Oh…I don’t mind. It’s part of poker…”

Gee, Ted, (and it’s possible you are reading here so take it as it is meant or please go read somewhere else), I didn’t know that a house rule was something that only was enforced when someone felt like it, and it mattered whether you minded or not. The rule is the rule.

But back towards the beginning, the first hand I really watched was when the 4s – Monique – got into a pot and lost it to the 9s. The 9s was so full of himself that I’m surprised he doesn’t break his arm patting himself on the back every morning…just because he thinks ‘he’s da man’. He appeared to me to be around 30, exclaimed that he was entitled to win the pot because it was his birthday, and he was 24 today. Un-fucking-real how many times we had to listen to the fact that it was his birthday.

The 5s – Stephanie – and Monique decided to go out for a smoke. While they were gone, the 8s raised UTG, I looked down to Fighting Joe Frazier (two black Aces). I raised. Everyone folded to UTG, he called. The flop brought three hearts. He bet, I raised, he called. The turn brought another heart. He checked, I exclaimed, “Heart check!” and laughed as I looked at my cards. I checked. The river brought the Ace of diamonds, he bet, I called, he showed KH-JD. I said, “Nice catch,” started laughing, looked directly at him and announced, “You played it like a little girl though.”

W-H-A-T? The look on his face was priceless. He works at Light, Bellagio’s own dance it up, hustle-bustle night club. I’d never seen him before and out of all of the players in this game, I only knew one, Derick, we go back a long way to the Mirage days. The 8s kind of stammered around the fact that I thought he played it poorly. I did. When the 8s had the button, the 9s was the SB, 10s vacant, I was the BB, everyone folded to the 8s and he raised, watching me as he puts his chips in. (Yes, I detected a challenge there). The 9s started whinny-pooing that we could have chopped. I said, “No, we can’t. I never chop.”

We both folded and the game went on to the tune of, “You never chop? Never? Does that mean you were trying to get me heads-up?”

I replied, “Any day, Baby, heads-up any time you want.”

He did the ‘I’m cool’ preen and exclaimed, “So…we have one with a little spunk…she sounds like she wants to play.”

I replied, “If you’re afraid, you’re supposed to stay home.”

That brought an end to the conversation and Monique and Stephanie returned. The bottom line was that the 9s was in continual hustle mode with them. He ran through the same statements, over and over and over, instead of just asking one of them if they wanted to have dinner with him, or if they wanted to get it on, or something that would give him credibilityin being able to designa conversation to the moment, instead he continued to prattle, “It’s my birthday…” (as in give me your chips or call me every time I bet) or “Raise it!”, always looking at them and directing his conversation to them.

Not to worry, these two cuties were wise to him. They played the game quite well. I had my camera with me, had it on the table and ready to go and the cuties knew that something was up with me and the camera. I asked them if they minded if I took their picture. So, you get a treat, there are going to be three shots of them, intermingled throughout the post. This one was without a flash. Monique hated it, something to do with the ‘hair thing’ and she had a term for the tousled hair look but hell if I can remember what it was:

They have both promised to read here, and they have a blog. If they send me the link, I will post it here. And in the mean time, I have to fly (yes my broom is waiting).

*post-poned*