Friday Night

So after busting the $2500NL I was sitting around at home doing very little when a couple of Tony's mates came round to our joint. They were going to some bar called the YardHouse, and convinced me that the beer selection there would be adequate so off I went.

They weren't lying.

Apparently 60-something different beers on tap, incl Hofbrauhaus Original, which pleased me greatly. The place was quite large with an indoor and outdoor area.

So these guys went off and systematically did their pick-up thang on the unsuspecting (read: suspecting) young ladies from varying parts of the bar, and I got to see how it was done. Tony appeared to be doing well with two girls in a booth but then that became 5 girls in a booth and apparently that's a fail. The other two guys failed pretty hard with what we assumed afterwards HAD to be lesbians at the bar. We left that joint to go to the Rio.

ND's Fuego at the Rio is a brand new club that was supposed to be pretty hot. One of Tony's friends was apparently able to get us in; this sadly did not quite eventuate. I grew weary of standing around and found a blackjack table. My first bet won, and not wanting to ruin my one-in-a-row streak, I doubled my bet for hand #2. I was dealt 15 against an Ace. Tony yelled out that they had managed to get in, so, assuming I had lost anyway over I walked to the front of the line, where after seeing and hearing more of the club I decided that blackjack was by far the superior option (that and the fact that Tony+Co were already walking inside, apparently having forgotten about me in the intervening 4 seconds, and Virgil the bouncer didnt believe my "I'm with them" story).

So back I go to my blackjack table where I find that the dealer has pushed me some money. Never being one to upset the applecart, I wagered it quickly on the next hand, winning with 20. The young lady playing box two informs me that in my absence, the house actually hit 15 for me, drawing to 17, and that the dealer's Ace improved to 17, so I got my money back. This pleased me greatly, and I celebrated by buying a complimentary round of drinks from the fairly unnatractive but pleasant cocktail waitress.

I conitnue playing good blackjack while "Pete" our dealer from the philippines continue to draw T+ in the door. This is only 2-deck blackjack however and my counting was pretty spot on so I guess that made up for the fact that blackjack only paid out 6:5.

So the young lady next to me tells me she is a lawyer, which I didnt really believe so I enquired further as to the nature of her visit to Vegas (she was from New Jersey iirc); her response was the predictable "I can't really say". Eventually I extracted from her that she was staying at the Rio, until mid-july. This information, coupled with the fact that she continually used expressions like "god i run so bad" and "fuck my life", led me to the conclusion that she was in fact a poker player. Later I found out that she is/was actually a lawyer also.

We played about 2hrs worth of blackjack before Tony+Co returned from the club to tell me how much it sucked and that they were going to Korean BBQ. I was (strangely enough) hungry at the time (it now being on the later side of 230am or so I guess) and decided to join them. It became apparent that there was not enough room in the car for everyone, so after offering to get a cab to the restaurant I, again, decided more blackjack was in order. We are joined by a young filipino lady named "Wilma", who proceeds to tell us that despite her risque attire she is actually a training cardiologist. "Wilma" had a very good handle on basic blackjack strategy (I can only assume this is taught early on in Cardiology) and proceeded to help us run good to a small but acceptable profit.

Myself, Lana (from the blackjack table) and Wilma then moved to the hooker bar at the Rio (at least, that's what Wilma the Cardiologist referred to it as) and pounded down a few more beers before we were joined by Al from Connecticut? and Wilma's friend whose name escapes me, but I'm sure she was an aspiring opthamologist or hyperbolic topologist's assistant or something. Later, Liv Boeree + friends joined us, and I talked to Yuvee04 about his sick FTOPS achievement earlier this year. He seemed to appreciate the parallels I drew between him and Halfrek, and I was virtually certain his stunning girlfriend wanted to me whisk her away to Sydney once she found out that's where I was from. Perhaps sensing this also, Yuvee ended the night, and by 6am we decided the only logical thing to do was take our remaining cash to the craps table.

I failed in looking like a seasoned craps player when all the amounts I placed out for the croupier were wrong and I got yelled at for not having my hands back while the dice were in motion. This had detrimental effects on my psyche, and we left at about 630am with $0.00 in returns.

I got in a cab and immediately begun to intently listen to the Vietnamese driver's aspirations to have children asap with his new wife. McDonalds breakfast here is superior to back home; the sausage on the S+E McM actually kinda takes like sausage which was pretty good.

Nursing hangover now, ate leftover pizza Watts was nice enough to not eat, and trying to rehydrate before sleeping a little bit in time for majors tomoro.

Hope all is well back home.