Downtown, where everything's beautiful

There exists a whole new world about five miles up the pike from the strip. Actually, in the interest of accuracy lets call it a whole old world because shit attracts more geriatrics then the early bird special in a Boca Raton brunch hot spot. I fucking love the scene downtown, but there are few of my generation who would concur. For the most part, Im the youngest person in any casino I set foot in, and other than the occasional crack whore libidos have been replaced by wrinkles. I had passed out early last night, and when I came to and realized my roommate Russell was in the same situation, we decided it was time for men to be men. Lets play the 60 dollar tourney at the golden nugget and give a few pacemakers a field test.
We arrived right around 11 AM on the dot, and while Russell was valeting the vehicle, I bought in for the two of us and found my seat.
I made a move early with second pair tens eight kicker out of the big blind when the flop had been checked and the turn brought a blank, but I got called town by a ten seven that rivered his seven. Next hand I saw AK, made a minimum raise and got called by four people, missing the flop as bad as you could with ace king. Someone made it too expensive to see another card, and I was down to about 1200 of my 2000 chips within the first two hands I played. After a couple rounds of cards and some forfeited blinds, I moved all in with ace ten on the button and got called by the big blind who had found pocket queens. Five cards later and I was repeating a hyponated word that rhymes with knee high. 40 dollars more got me 1500 chips, and I was ready to have my cards fall the right way. This time, I found Jack ten in late position, called and was left playing against only the big blind. The flop rainbowed 7-8-9, and dude checked to me at which point I decided to slowplay. Turn brought a two, and I bet out a hundred into the two hundred chip pot. Dude just calls and river comes queen. I bet two hundred, he just calls and flips two pair nines and sevens losing out to my made straight but refusing to pay what he owed. Mr son of bitch, should have paid me off on that one. You flop two fucking pair against one other player and you make him for the straight, not even a reraise to see where I was at. Needless to say dude got blinded out a couple hours later, but that was my chance to accumulate some chips.
I got lucky finding aces in early position and limping as the man to my left made it six hundred to go. One other guy with a big stack called, and then I pushed with my aces gettin called by ace king. I doubled through the dude and also recieved a five dollar cash bounty for knocking a player out. I started gettin real cocky like, stealin a few blinds, and once grabbin up five limpers with an ace three off. I showed the ace, and someone correctly called out, “that means ace low”. I looked him in the eye and said “everytime I make that raise, that will be exactly the hand I have”. My chatterin mouth started runnin, and I induced two callers who couldnt have respected me less when I held pocket tens. Shit came 3, 3, 5 and I bet the pot, loudly claiming to have “a huge straight draw”. No one had the balls, but that chip leader with the red shirt and bushy moustache brashly said that if he could beat king high he would have called me. You know that dude, hes dead money middle aged tourist lookin to play a little poker on vacation, always trying to crack jokes about the wife getting angry if he doesnt make it to lunch on time. He had doubled up with 9s against queens when his nine hit, and had already shown a desire to get his money in play, so he was definitly the one I wanted to get in a hand with.
After a couple loose preflop calls that missed, I was sitting on about 3500 chips and a guy who was well short stacked pushed all in under the gun. I was looking at ace nine offsuit, but I figured there were a lot of hands he would have pushed with that I could beat so after long thought I threw in. Another shortstacked caller made it three way action with the cards all flipped preflop. I was up against pocket 8s and J-6 suited, so I wasnt lookin half bad. When the flop brought both a nine and an ace I was looking even better. I survived the turn and river to be passed the three thousand chip pot as well as the ten dollars in bounties. I stole a couple more times, then found an A-Q suited in the little blind after three people limped for the two hundred blind. I made it seventeen hundred to go, almost dragging the pot, until bushy moustache pushed. I figured I had to call because there was no way he had slow played ace king or an overpair, and he showed his pair of fours. When nothing came, he got pushed the pot and my bounty, but I stand by the decision making.
Russell was still going strong and actually got moved to my table as I exited, so I had some time to kill and fifteen dollars on my person. I openly pointed at the guy who had busted me telling russell that it was his job to take it all back, and then watched as Russell doubled through him with his queens standing up against pocket eights. I interupted the game to say “I want you to double through him and only him”, and he was good natured about it chuckling that fat buffet loving belly of his. The game went to break and I went to grab a quick bite and stroll the down the glitter and neon lane. Am I wrong, or is this what vegas is suppossed to be about? Deep fried twinkies, plastic footballs full of beer, and more cheapy promotions being run by cheapy girls who couldnt survive on the strip.
Old vegas lives, and no where is that more aparent than the McDonalds located inside of Fitzgerald’s casino. There is an odd vibe that assialls you as you enter to see a host of carefree teens trying to deal with the concearns of countless coffee drinkers looking for refills. There is even a sign posted about the cream and sugar policy which reads, “Patrons are limited to one refill of coffee and may only get 6 total cremes and 6 total sugars, each additional cream or sugar will be charged 10 cents per.” Judging from the clientele, I think they have to point to that sign at least six times per shift. The only people who didnt fit in either the complete scumbag or over 70 categories was a lone group of three spring breakers. You could feel the animosity flowing across the table at whichever jackass had booked the room months ago, likely having claimed “Dude, we’ll be fine. I mean its on Las Vegas Blvd for fucks sake.” I grabbed a couple dollar menu items and headed back to the nugget.
As I was entering, they were announcing a new 3/6 table starting up so I grabbed a hundo off Russell and got back in action. We only had five players to start so they lowered it to a one dollar rake and I was ready to bully the other four whose combined age was approximately two fity. I hit a pair early and quickly was pulling in twenty dollars profit. Afterwards I found Jacks in the whole, raised them to two callers. The flop came 9-7-3 of different suits and I bet it out gettin the same two callers. Turn came three, I bet again same two callers. When the river was a ten, I figured I still had to bet it and when I didnt get reraised I assumed I was flippin a winner. Dude in first position showed a five three offsuit for three of a kind, but hadnt had enough confidence in them to bet back into me. The guy to my left says to me “son, you gotta slow down when that board pairs” as if I had never played a game of poker before in my life. Next hand I played I got an ace nine on the button and I raised with two callers. Flop came 9-10-4, and when it was checked to me I bet. The guru in a jogging suit to my left called, and it was checkraised to six by the other player. I made it nine, leading to the guy turning to me and sayin, “dont you see hes got something” followed by dude making it twelve. We both called and the turn brought a seven. The bettor continued his pattern and I just called with the dipshit who was pissin in my ear laying down and giving me a disgusted look as if I had lost all his money for him. River was a five, he bet and I called at which point he showed the J-8 straight he had made on the turn. Dude to my left was incredulous “How could you not see he had something?” I told him “I had him beat on the flop, I never gave him an extra bet after he made his hand.” He didnt understand at first, but then said “oh, he was bettin on the come.”
At this point I was down about fifty bucks and beyond steaming. I found ace king in the hole and raised it with four callers. Flop came ace, four, duece, it was bet with me smooth calling waiting to reraise until the turn came six. The guy to my left rolled his eyes, and I got called by the original bettor. River came jack, and when he bet I just called. Dude flips A-J, making two pair on the river, and I flip my AK in disgust. This fucking son of a bitch says, “see he had the ace son” not understanding that he had hit a three card draw on the river. I was so angry that I did the one thing I never do, I clammed the fuck up. This guy kept running his mouth trying to teach me the game, and eventually enough was enough. Despite my ignoring him and the fact that he clearly had no idea how to play he kept fucking talking. He showed his ineptitude by checking the river last to act with pocket aces who had hit an ace, thinking that maybe someone had stayed in and made a straight with 2-4 when the three hit on the river. When I couldnt take it any more I moved across the table, and he shot me a puppy dog look as if he didnt understand how he could be so friendly and no one liked him.
I made a little run then gave it all back overplaying big cards in a field that didnt know how to fold. Meanwhile, Russell was doing well and got it down to the final table, though he was short stacked. They engineered a chop whereby Russell got fifty of his hundred back, but then he busted out seventh trying to triple up with a mediocore hand before he was blinded out. I only had 23 three bucks left, so he convinced me to take it with him to the roulette table and play his system. His system turned out to be bet the 6 and 17 for five bucks each and watch them hit. I cashed in for my 23, threw three on each of his numbers, three on 21, and another buck on 36 for kicks. Shit spun round and landed squarely on 17, sending the chips in the proper direction for a change. Shit hit for 105, Russell for 175, and I was quickly made a believer. I put my leftover 16 bucks in play, hundred in my pocket and hit the 33 with a buck on it to the tune of 35 bucks. Another twenty in my pocket, covered the board, and this time Russell hit the 11 with a late bet for another 175. After one more spin, we walked away with me up a hundo and he nettin three bills. I think he put it best by saying, “Im tellin you dude, six and seventeen. I think I hit more often than not, if thats possible.” On the day, I was still down 70 bucks, but I had rekindled my love of the spinning wheel surrounded by the humanity that is downtown vegas. Small price to pay.

Downtown, where everything's beautiful

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