What's the difference between a mule team driver and a poker dealer?

Augh!

I am never going to have more time, it seems. So let me get a few things out of the way:

Look at the fat cat!!! WOW! He might be bigger than Molly, the Obeast!

1) Before I left, I met Brenda the Cat Whisperer, showed her where Mehitabel hangs out, gave her $50 to cover gas and stuff, and bought a bunch of food for her at PetsMart. She—bless her heart—fed them every day, and even struck up a relationship with Mehitabel. She said that she will help me catch Mehitabel. Let’s hope. We may try this Sunday, despite the fact that I have way too much to do. Bwaah! But Brenda said that she has another friend who takes in feral moms all the time, and what she usually does is let the Momcat have the kittens, spay her by going in on the side (a little more expensive, but she can still nurse), and if the mom will feed the kittens and all, put her back out (if she is too feral) once the kittens are old enough to eat solid food. But she said she has had some Momcats who are so feral they go psycho when caught, and this friend will give a mom like that a week (sans kittens) to recover and put her back out and hand-feed the kittens, which isn’t ideal, but it makes them even friendlier. So we will see.

2) I never did see Drang the next day; I can only assume that he took off hitching as he had said he would. Which I guess ends up being all the same, as someone I talked to a lot at le Pokerfete really took me to task for thinking about buying a bus ticket on the grounds that Denver isn’t really that far, and if he suffers no repercussions this time, next time he will do something even more dumb, like travelling to Atlantic City. Another person (TG, below) said basically the same thing, so I am kind of two for two on that point. I think this falls into the ‘how can I help you when you won’t even help yourself?’ category. I am letting it go, and hoping he will be okay.

3) Meg’s heading over to Atlantic City, and then Vegas after that. Unfortunately I cannot go, but I hope she has fun. As punishment, I should send her to Vegas with a sealed envelope for this one dealer who is like, the lust of my life (more about that later), with a note that reads, ‘My sister likes you; do you like her? Circle one: Yes No’.

Oh, c’mon—you know, like you used to do in Grade 5? :-) HA-HA! I can just *hear* Meg screaming at me on the phone. That *alone* would be worth it! Well, plus he might circle ‘Yes’, which would always be good, too. ;-) I could tell her I forgot to tip him a few times…she’s conscientious like that and would understand…

Giggle…I am *so* Evil. :-) Plus, even if he did circle ‘yes’, she’d never tell me. She gets her panties in a wad like that sometimes. ;-) Can’t imagine why.

4) I was extremely uncomfortable at Meg’s table, so she went with me to a lower table (to her; higher to me). There were two raging assholes there, an unrelated man and woman, being total bullies. I’m calling them Reel One and Hefty Heifer, because I am mean like that (no, really—these two were EVIL INCARNATE, I swear; she—HH—was choking everyone out of play with ridiculous raises, and he—Reel—just thought he was Mr Poker High-Ass Muckety-Muck). I sat down and immediately was given (almost back-to-back) AK, KK, AA. Go fricking figure. So I more than doubled-up right away because Reel One and Hefty Heifer didn’t know me, or maybe could tell I had them, and were folding to me after a bit, though post-flop, when I had made a hand (every time…go figure again). Then I blew a little of that because Reel One decided to start raising me, and I wasn’t getting massively good hands any more. So I gave him a bit and then decided to lay low and wait for his ass to be mine.

Well, he had pissed me off with the bullying.

Then This Guy (TG) sat down next to me. He was hilarious, and immediately went after Reel One and Hefty Heifer, and we got along smashingly. He won some, then he lost some, and we got on well ‘cos I was really entertained by it. Yay, Justice. And he wanted a tequila and couldn’t flag the cocktail server, so I called her because by then I’d learnt her name, and he was really surprised that I knew her name (since I had already told him I wasn’t from there). We started talking, and it made the hours go by so much faster.

Yes, I said hours. Bwaah!

TG tried to help me a *bunch* of times, ‘cos Meg was sitting on the other side of the table; for example, I got a pair of tens, and tried to go for it, but was screwed on the flop, when all three cards were potential overpairs to mine, so when I was raised, I folded; at that point, there was nothing else I *could* do. TG asked me what I threw away, so I told him. He explained that the way I play, I should have raised a lot more pre-flop, but whatever I did, I should have raised more (his choice) or less (to lure more people in)—not what I raised. Meg explained later that the difference is in how good my post-flop skills are, and in my case they aren’t. So more would have been better. But stuff like that—he tried to help, which was very nice of him, considering that he was trying to skin everyone else alive. I mean seriously; I would have been scared off the table if I hadn’t been talking to him. :-) For what it’s worth, Meg hated TG, and didn’t realise until I told her later that he was helping me and really being quite nice to me. I think it is just because (a) he was getting better hands than she was, and (b) she was convinced (especially when we walked off together—more about that later) that I was trying to pick him up, or he me, and thought that was inappropriate when I had gone to play with her to make money.

Butsoanyway.

Finally—FINALLY—I got another hand. And I just knew that the planets were aligned, or whatever. Knew it in my heart. So I went for it. I went to raise, and my Little Voice™ (the one that keeps me out of all kinds of danger—or tries to—and leads me into ridiculous fricking luck sometimes—or tries to) told me not to throw out chips, but to toss bills out there. Cash plays at this table—which I am not accustomed to—but only certain denominations, and I had won a few of those some hands back. So I grabbed and raised with it.

Little Voice™ sure knows what she is talking about. Reel couldn’t see past his own hand and that damn cash sitting out there; it really was as if his brain shut off when he saw the bills. Here, kitty, kitty, kitty...

See? Greed will get you, every single time.

So Reel calls me, and Hefty Heifer folds (after having raised it in the first place); HH’s is too much of a coward. Damn. The flop came garbage-A-Q, and Reel gets to go first. He goes all-in, looking at me with this smug-assed face that I wanted to rip the hell off.

Well, I hate bullies. And braggarts.

Whatever. I called him before he had finished talking. The other two people in the hand folded, which was nice; I didn’t want their money.

Reel turns over AQ; I show him AA. Mwa ha ha.

As if the Poker Gods wanted to add insult to injury, the turn was a Q. TG let out a whoop when he saw that one. The river was garbage, and Reel looked sick.

Yay, me. Well, me and Little Voice™. And Luck.

Reel had more money than I did, but I did double-up again, and I really knocked his stack down. And, like the lame-assed coward I had figured him to be, he picked up his chips and left, because he had already had one large loss to TG, and now a second one to a set of tits…it was more than Reel could handle. And I was totally shaking. Whew.

TG suggested we step away and have a celebratory cigarette; I had picked up the most *fabulous* cigarettes (Sweet Dreams' Vanilla, Cherry, and Chocolate Mocha…yummm!), so I agreed. After a minute, TG says, ‘you know, it’s ok to be happy.’ I was still flustered at how well it had worked out—things *rarely* work out that smoothly for me; perhaps I should start listening to Little Voice™ more often. ‘What do you mean,’ I asked him, trying to make a joke, ‘I *am* happy; this is my poker-face.’ ‘It’s a bad one, then,’ TG said, ‘probably the worst I have ever seen.’ We talked for a while as we watched Reel tuck-tail, cash out, and leave. TG was a sweetie, at least to me; he totally didn’t have to take time with me like he did—that was all just kindness. :-) I ‘fessed up that I was uncomfortable playing at that table because of the amounts of money that were being thrown around. TG said that I should take my winnings and leave (he meant it nicely, pointing out that I may never see anyone here again, so who cares what is ‘polite’?). I told him I was going to play a few more hands, and then leave. We talked for a little bit longer, and then went back to the table. He asked me why I threw bills out to raise when I could have pulled out chips. I told him, and he laughed and said that was very good. :-)

I am really rather proud of Little Voice™. Who knew she could play poker?

Deprived of her bully-buddy, Hefty Heifer picked up and left one hand later, after TG took QQ, flopped a set, and tried to goad her into calling him. It was hilarious. I had folded pre-flop, so he set his cards on their side (not obviously) where I could see. HH lost some money on that one, and so she left. I lost a little bit to a new person (a really little bit, just to be polite), and then decided to take my winnings and leave. Meg stayed for a couple hours, and said that once I left, TG got worse. :-) Knowing Meg, that means she lost some to him, though I am sure he didn’t gouge her—he saw me flop a straight and I was heads-up against Meg, so I checked it to the river and just called one of her raises; TG asked me what in the hell I was doing, and I told him that was my sister, and she would beat me up and take all her money back if I won, anyway. ;-) Meg was surprised to find that we weren’t buddying up to hook up (thanks for the vote of confidence, Meg…not), and even more surprised that TG had actually been trying to help me. Whatever.

And, truth be told, I do not think that it would have been hard to pick up TG. I was getting some signs. I just don’t do that anymore.

Butsoanyway.

To recap backwards, in the order it occurs to me, we started out early (at my pestering…errr…request), and had a beautiful early-morning drive last Wednesday out (up?) to Tahoe; the snow was so gorgeous, and the water was BEAUTIFUL, although we weren’t, all toqued-out. Yay, toque-heads! :-P My camera’s battery died partway through the trip, and so after we decided to not go skiing (too much bother to rent everything), we vowed we would come back next year ready to ski, had lunch there, and walked all around. I saw an icicle that had to be ten feet long! Way-cool! We picked up so much crap in Tahoe (and had already picked up other crap in Reno) that I had to make Meg stop for more luggage (which is on sale right now at Dillard’s…at least in Reno…so run go get!). And Meg confiscated the luggage set I bought, so I have to buy another one for myself, if I want to replace mine…which I might; it is a cool set. And I also had to re-stock on cocoa and shea butter, and other moisturisers. Ai yi yi, is it drying there.

Oh; speaking of which…I did start another post about nothing but how dry my skin and hair were, and never got around to posting it. I am sure the world will be a better place with it posted, so here:

I am moisturising everything I own…lord, this is fun. I am going to have to make a run for more cocoa butter and/or shea butter, and more Neutrogena oil slop probably tomorrow or the next day; the only thing the Hilton has (have I mentioned that they are on my Shit List?) is a travel-size of baby oil (ummm…only if I can find nothing else thanks, and even then not for the $3 or $4 you want; I can get it at a convenience store for less…unless the Hilton wants to throw in that one dealer—then it’s a sale.), and travel-sized tubes of Jergens or I think Suave for five times more than they are worth. Ummm…no to that, as well. Thank god I brought enough face-crap—I am glomming Hydra Zen, Dramatically Different Moisturiser, Moisture On-Call, and Moisture Surge three times a day. And I still feel dry, but I haven’t gotten chapped lips…yet. I started to Friday night/Saturday morning going over Donner Summit, but I found my shea butter lip balm. Yay.

One would think that I am one hideously greasy bitch by now, but I amn’t.

And I put in a hair treatment just a little bit ago—Redken’s Extreme Fuel, or whatever it’s called. My hairdresser, The Goddess, did a phone consult with me before I left and I bought the stuff she told me to in one of the mall salons the day before I left (which was really cool of her, ‘cos she’s T&G-trained, and in a salon that carries only T&G and whatshisname who makes Halo, but she told me other manufacturers’ stuff to get ‘cos it was easier to get Redken, Nexxus, and all that than going over to her). :-) Last time I had to be in weather such as this, I went the cheap route and just put a daub of hand lotion in a bottle of spray conditioner—that works, but it’s not ideal. Now that I am doing the demi-permanent glossing thing, I figure that I am throwing away my money if I don’t care for the glossing. So right now I am letting the hair stuff percolate on my head, or whatever it is doing.

It is beautiful outside; it snowed for most of today, and everything looks so frosty, clean, and sparkly outside. I should go do Winter things tomorrow, and try to recoup my money later. Well, I should. In reality, I am going to go down, earn my poker room rate, and kick some major ass. Don’t we hope.

I had better go get this stuff out of my hair now. Hope it works. Then I have to forage for nuts and berries. Whee.

And it’s Graham Webb that makes Halo, iddnit? They also make the Back to Basics line, but The Goddess’ salon doesn’t carry that, ‘cos it can be gotten everywhere.

Ok…laterz.

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There. Aren’t you a better person for having read that? Yeah…me either. :-)
Speaking of foraging for nuts and berries, the food there could suck worse. We had comps for almost everything (excluding Johnny Rockets and Chevy’s, so we paid for that) because the manager kept giving me (and Meg, once she came up with me once—he has a good memory!) bunches of comps, so we mainly ate at the Hilton. It is not the greatest (I actually did try every restaurant there), but it isn’t the suckiest, either. The first time I ate at Asiana (their Asian fusion restaurant), I had the Shrimp Foo Yung from HELL. I took a picture of the thing—it was GINORMOUS. It was pretty good, but it wasn’t the best I have ever had, so I focussed on the spring rolls and plum wine. The time after that I got the Sunshine Noodles (you know it’s not an *authentic* Asian restaurant right there…what’s with this ‘noodleS’ thing?), and I don’t remember what I had after that. The steak house (whatsitsname) is just…a steak house. We only did that once, ‘cos it was just average. Asiana was slightly above-average. Round Table Pizza SUCKED and was just plain nasty-tasting. The Lodge Buffet was, well, a buffet. An average one, if you’re talking about casino buffets, though they did have very good crab legs (how can one screw up a crab leg, though?), and the indoor/outdoor effect was kind of cute. Andiamo’s was really good; I had a tortellini-something and tiramisu, though we only went there once ‘cos the other times we went to go, they had a few minutes wait, whereas Chevy’s didn’t, etc…

Lindy’s sucks, though not as bad as some place like Denny’s or McDogfood, but we were stuck with it a few times ‘cos of how late Meg wanted to play. Java Coast was just, well, a coffee store like every other coffee store. At least they are less uppity and snooty in comparison to Coffee-Cool-O-Rama, though; they don’t insist you call things by stupid made-up names (think Keillor’s skits). Points for that. Bonus points for being attached to the gift shop so I can buy whilst you brew. Go, Java Coast!

Johnny Rocket’s & Chevy’s were like they always are everywhere else on the freaking planet, but sometimes generica is nice. All the Hilton’s nightclubs I saw (and heard) without having to go in. Well, why should I? I’m at a poker table, I am playing a game, talking to people, laughing my butt off (generally), flirting (whenever that gorgeous dealer was over), and having free drinks (one more cranberry juice, pleez; I am not a big drinker)…why should I go to a noisy club? Especially when Left of Centre is playing there. Augh. Worst…cover band…ever. They do the same set every fricking night, and they make the beginning of Ring of Fire sound like they are trying to play something by The Ramones.

No, I am *serious*! They do! And that’s just WRONG.

Someone told me that they have been playing the Hilton forever. Why, I just cannot understand. You haven’t lived until you have heard their cover of Cult of Personality. Remember that part in Silence of the Lambs when Jame Gumb is singing? Yeah…it sounds a *lot* like that. Jame Gumb does In Living Colour. God help us all.

And the Hilton is going to look like this. Meg says she wants to buy a condo there. She was trying to make it out to be so close to Tahoe, and everything…she’s funny. I am calling dibs on the DMD Suite…I need a bearskin rug in front of a fireplace to get nailed on, and look—here they’ve drawn one in for me, even! Oh, Mr Dealer…here, kitty, kitty, kitty…

Giggle. As if I had luck with that ever but that once. Just ask Mehitabel.

And the guy in the video that was playing in our rooms to announce the Grand Sierra totally looks like he at least cross dresses, not that I want to out him, or anything, but umm…psst…it’s hardly a secret. I mentioned that to Meg, and she just stopped and looked at me for a minute. ‘You know,’ she finally said, ‘you are fucking remarkable.’

I know I am. I just have non-vanilla-dar like that. Though I don’t think that’s how Meg meant it. :-)

He really looks like a future old queen—you can just see it—and he prolly scares the kids. No, rilly. I think I saw him twice in the poker room, walking through, and ummm…M.A.C. has this really great blotting powder. I just wanted to throw that out there.

Well, that, and don’t get face lifts from a graduate of the University of Papaya. The University of Papaya is not a real school. Hope this helps.

Oh, okay, *fine*…he probably looks better than I do all decked out, and I’m jealous. So there. Hmmph.

Butsoanyway.

Speaking of getting nailed, I had *such* a gorgeous dealer scads of times! Oh, my…he even made me forget about the guy who reminded me a lot of the Former Future Mr Ancodia. I mean, and that’s despite what appears to be a jail tattoo. :-) Well, I can overlook some things; I am a very liberally-minded girl. But *damn* he was cute! And funny! And had the most unusual accent; I just loved to hear him talk, which he did a lot, another thing that is fine by me, especially because it wasn’t pointless babbling (some dealers do that, and it is rather annoying; I would prefer they just be quiet if it is some rote script they’re going through, though I do understand the temptation to do so); he was just a *major* Chatty Cathy. And he’s a travelling dealer, so hopefully I will see him again, and maybe by then can do something stupid and fruitless. Woo-hoo! Yay, humiliation! :-)

God, I am pathetic. But, oddly, I did find out that dealers seem to like White Linen. The first time I wore it, every single one commented positively. One even mentioned that it was a very welcome relief from some guy with halitosis at the previous table, and if that’s not a compliment, I don’t know what is, dang it. No comments on Angel, Youth Dew, or Red Door. Go figure. Maybe those days Mr Halitosis had brushed. :-D

We also went to eat at the Black Bear Diner, which was very cool. We picked it because Squoosh’s nickname is ‘Big Black Bear’, ‘cos he is so thick and he has a bunny butt, and we were really pleased, though the portions are so huge that we were afraid to order dessert. Yii! All of us threw out so much food (no point in taking it back to the hotel, where it would just sit in the refrigerator), that I know the cats that are around there must be eating well every night! And now that I wouldn’t have to lug it home, I may order some souvenirs from there. Their garlic fries were so wonderful that I felt bad throwing more than half of them away ‘cos there was just no way we could (or should!!) eat all that.

And there was *S*N*O*W*! Well, a lot of the time. It was awesome! Well, except for the constant trying to stay moisturised. I needed my olive oil soap and some other stuff, but I made it. Somehow. Though it was rough.

Giggle.

Yes, I will probably go back next year.

Oh—it’s that, at any given time, a mule team driver only has to look at *two* assholes.

:-D

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