Monday, August 21, 2017

Las Vegas Adventures #6 - The life and times of Bubble Boy

   Those of you who know me are aware that I am a degenerate gambler (I'm good at gambling, the degeneracy is a separate issue). So obviously I have indulged in a couple good old fashioned no-limit Texas holdem tournaments since I have been here in Vegas.

For you philistines out there who don't appreciate gambling culture, a poker tournament is a lot like life - everybody pays to participate, struggles to beat everyone else by any means necessary, and a small percentage end up with all money in the end.

Usually 10% or so of the people who enter get money. In a poker tournament the last spot before the paying positions start is called "the bubble". Despite being close enough to molest the money, whoever gets eliminated on the bubble gets nothing. Because poker is real life, and close only counts for horseshoes, hand grenades, and restraining order violations.

In the two tournaments I have played so far, I have placed 7th out of 45, and 6th out of 38th. These two tournaments paid out the top 5 and 4 places, respectively.

So while I didn't technically go out on the bubble, to paraphrase Bill Shakespeare, "a fart by any other name would smell as shitty"

To be sure, making it that deep in two multi-table tournaments in a row is indicative of some solid poker skills. But going deep in a tourney yet not cashing out is like fighting a bear for 30 minutes - It's very impressive, but at the end you're still dead inside.

Friday, August 11, 2017

Las Vegas Adventures - #5

      I've fielded lots of questions lately about why I wanted to move to Vegas, and as I've explained before, I have my reasons, and at least 30% of them have nothing to do with casinos or strip clubs. One of the main reasons is an unquenchable thirst for adventures. So it only seems fair to regale you all with the stories of my deeds, triumphant and disastrous alike, so you can wish you were me (or be glad you aren't, whatever the case may be). 

     You may have noticed that I'm starting with adventure # 5, instead of 1. That's because, as anybody who has watched Reservoir Dogs knows, its more fun to do things out of order. And also because some of my great stories should be reserved for my fans who send nudes. Which hasn't happened yet.....apparently people think I'm joking.......Anyway.

    This adventure begins on my morning stroll, where I was marching down the sunny streets using my patented technique for instant happiness (I can't give everything away, but it involves listening to happy music, grinning like an idiot, and bombastically strutting like you're a billionaire with kettlebells for balls - see Fig 1). It works, trust me. Science. 

Fig. 1

So there I am minding my own business, just trying to absorb the limitless power of the universe, and a car slowly pulls up beside me, and starts honking its horn repeatedly. When this happens a few thoughts went through my mind: 

1. If some foolish fuckers try to roll me I am gonna bust out a Chuck Norris flying double kick, wrecking their car and their feeble ribcages. see fig. 2

Fig. 2

2. Am I about to be objectified and street harassed? If somebody calls me sweetheart or comments on my fabulous glutes, I might literally not be able to even. 

3. Maybe something really cool is about to happen, that I don't even know about. 

Unfortunately, none of those things transpired. Instead I turn around to see two old asian ladies in a car staring at me, simultaneously imploring and impatient. 

As I slowly remove my $3.99 Walmart headphones, I think "this outta be good.." but I honestly can't come up with any ideas for what they possibly could want. 
The driver leans over and asks me "you know where is Costco" 

It was more of a statement than a question, spoken like I was keeping her personal info prisoner, and should hand it over. 

At this point I am not at all thinking about how to answer the question, and am instead thinking what train of thought has to transpire to make somebody honk at a random runner on the street, in a city of 2 million people, to ask where the Costco is. I have no answers. IS there even a Costco?

What I wanted to say was: (See Fig. 3)

Fig. 3

Instead I used up pretty much all the politeness I have in the morning and told them "I just moved here, I don't know where anything is."

Then I added, with as much emphasis as possible to make it known that this is a suggestion instead of just a statement, " I use GPS to find out where everything is."

Normally I'm not that passive aggressive and would just say "why don't you use GPS?", but I figure with the driving I've seen so far from other old asian ladies, I should consider my self lucky they didn't accidentally pin me to a telephone pole when trying to stop, so I decided to pay it forward.

After I said that, they both just looked at me for a second, and just when I though they were about to drive off, and my ordeal would be over and I could get back to building my power levels, she narrows her eyes and says "What the address?" 

See Fig. 4

Fig. 4

I pretty much just gave them that look until they drove off.

Stay tuned for more adventures, like the time I went to a Chinese restaurant that was probably a money laundering operation for Triad gangs. (I swear the adventures don't all involved asian people. )

- Double E