The question is, how does a non-writer make sense out of three days where time and space had absolutely no meaning? At some points, time seemed to be frozen, while at others, what seemed like 2 hours was actually 8. Night became day, day became night. The only constants being the people, the cards, and the booze although even that hierarchy shuffled itself numerous times.
Let's start at the beginning, then, shall we? I landed at McCarran on time, just after 6:30 PM local time. Coupled with a non-existant taxi line, I was checked into the IP by 7:30. Next stop was the MGM. Nothing like feeling conspicuously anonymous watching table 16 with awe, and just a bit of fear, waiting for someone I had previously met to remember that they had. Finally, I decided to press the issue and make some reintroductions which were met cordially. Either folks have the best recollections for names and faces I have ever seen, or are really good liars. Either way, I wasn't complaining.
After about an hour I ran into Falstaff, Doc, Rooster, and Kat. Thankfully, they did all remember me without too much difficulty. At that point, though, it was just about time to form up the convoy to GVR.
STEEL F'N PANTHER.
Holy crap. What an amazing time that is. I had written that into the to-do list right at the top, and will never miss another one. Between the old school hair metal and the free flowing alcohol, I managed to talk at least briefly with over half the folks that made the journey. The band played a single one hour set, but I was more than satisifed. Afterward, many of the folk decided to hang there at the poker room, but I caught a cab back to IP with CA April and CJ. Just in time to watch Iggy pouring Waffles into a cab bound for God knows where.
After a brief respite at the Geisha bar, it was finally time to put some money in play. Pai Gow, up about $15 plus about 5 Bacardi and diets. Craps, don't remember, but I do remember lots of cocktail service. Finally I went over to the poker room for a little 2/4 LHE. I never play cash NLHE when I've been drinking. Ever. And I certainly planned on the drinking to continue. There were about 7 or 8 already playing when I sat down and, over the next hour or two, they all either gave up or went broke. I shut down the table after playing an off duty dealer heads up and took her last $30. After tips (dealers and waitresses) and rake, I was probably still up about $80.
It must have been around 5:00 AM by then and I had been up for around 26 hours, but since day 1 was merely an appetizer, I decided to grab a couple hours of sleep before the main course. On tap for Saturday... the tournament at Caesar's followed by shenanigans yet to be determined.
And there go another 5 minutes of your life you're not getting back...
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