I'm In a Hurry

I'm In A Hurry To Get Things Done
(Oh,) I Rush Rush Until Life's No Fun
All I Really Gotta Do Is Live Die
But, I'm In A Hurry Don't Know Why

- Alabama

Starting a casino trip at midnight leaves for a lot of idle time before getting picked up. Luckily I had a bottle of Captain Morgan in the house and some rowdy bloggers dishing out dial-a-shots. Getting buzzed before heading to a bar service only casino is a must, since they do not allow alcohol on the casino floor (18 and over) and no free drinks for playing (unlike Vegas), and a 1am last call (booooooo). I was able to get the birthday boy at least one drink as we got there right before last call. The house country band was wrapping up their set with “I’m In a Hurry” by Alabama, good twang, excellent effort. I was in a personal happy-place gabbing with Burnsie while smashing buttons and yelling for quads on the bar video poker machines. Then the slightly tipsy woman playing in the barstool next to us with a Grand Casino sweatshirt on decides to start a conversation without me.

Hookah bar in Minnesota? If she was a hookah, I think I’d need a couple more bottles of Rumple Minz to make her go from Kathy Liebert to Kathy Ireland. But being the jolly drunk guy I decided to listen to her prattle about her losing and having to sweat us since she was out of money. My guess is that she saw me pull out my poker bankroll to pay for the drinks and her intentions were less then kosher. Or my video poker skillz (that netted a $10.50 win) made her panties wet.

I’m thinking it was the former.

Painfully watched Burnsie lose the $100 that he brought in a matter of an hour, but Drizz was the penny-slot master as I won enough to give him my winnings so he could keep playing. I won probably $80-$100, but it was his birthday and there’s no sense in letting your friend sulk while you win.

Later as we were playing another bank of two cent machines, some woman-folks circled around to start playing next to us even after I got caught gawking at the long legged blonde in the group of three. Nothing sexier then a skinny drunk white guy playing penny slots with another skinny white guy, I’m still amazed she kept her restraint by not stripping right in front of us.

Caution, I use internet sarcasm sometimes, you have been warned.

Sadly, the Nordic blonde goddess left us when she lost her $20 despite our discussion on slots strategies such as varying your bet to throw off the random number generator thus increasing her possible win-rate and giving the machine a lap dance that would make a Buddhist monk blush. Yes, I’m shameless, and I wish it was me getting the lap dance.

Let-it-ride rode me into my only losses of the night as some chain smoking wiggahs sucked all of the fun I was having while losing my money to a jolly dealer. The pit bosses should have a no wiggah zone as I was willing to lose the reminder of my $100 buy-in to keep the conversation with the dealer, but the Newport smoking, basketball jersey-wearing doofuses took all the fun out of it. They slapped down their $200 in quarters trying to look like high rollers… then requested $25 in silvers. Since I didn’t feel like getting into a dick-swinging contest by putting up the $1,500 in my pocket, I decided to grab Burnsie to see if the poker room had any action.

One shorthanded $2/$4 Hold Em’ game going with three guys who all knew each other.

Sigh.

I caught some lucky cards and marveled in the bad play. Sorry sir but bottom two pair isn’t very good with a 4 card straight and a possible flush out there, but you go ahead and bet it hard when someone is playing back at you. Since I was out of my element I walked away after one hour with a tidy 9BB profit with tips going out to the dealer and cage of course.

The sun started to come up, so we hit the restaurant for the gig-normous $2.99 breakfast special with a plate fit for Paul Bunyan. Generous slice of ham, two eggs (scrambled), hash browns, and Texas toast (lightly buttered), hit all the right spots of my stomach for the ride home.

Not a bad way to finish up a day after being up for over 24 hours.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Why won’t this tournament itch go away? Why am I in such a hurry to win one? Tournament poker the crack-cocaine of the poker world and I can’t let it go. No, I’m not ready to sell my chalk white self out in exchange for buy-ins, but I continue to let those degenerates on the IM chat boxes whore me into buying into tournaments.

Easy money they say! When you’re kicking ass like CJ and JoeSpeaker cashing big at the Full Tilt $50K guarantee it does look easy. Or if you’re Otis bashing around PartyPoker players like piñatas during Cinco De Mayo during their $500K Sunday guarantee.

Congrats guys.

I lost at the WPBT shootout on Full Tilt with Aces… again. When you’re running as bad as me this is almost expected. Last night while railbirding the above players, I did manage to cash in a Stars $5 MTT with 1322 runners, never getting into a coin flip or being the underdog, until I busted with 122 people remaining holding AJo vs. someone calling my all-in with 66?

Thanks for five bucks!

Maybe one of these days, coin flips will turn my way, but until then I’ll be satisfied with the camaraderie of tournament poker with the bloggers.

I hear there’s a tournament coming up in Vegas a couple of days after my birthday… will you be there?

I hope so.

Thanks for dropping by, now go congratulate the UFP crew for crushing the virtual competition this weekend. And compliment G-Rob on his hair since he sucks at poker.