Episode 2 - Your drinking powers are weak old man

So here I am nearly a week into a month's stay in Vegas. It's been interesting. I detailed the first day in my previous entry and the next couple of days were spent working so nothing really to report apart from hoping a particular passenger on flight AA1237 on Wednesday morning is tasered painfully. I don't have much patience at the best of times, especially on a 7.45am flight, but surely a sensible thing to do if you're having a coughing fit is to stop shovelling cheetos into your face for long enough to actually clear your airways rather than spread yellow dust throughout the cabin like in some sort of outbreak movie. This went on for a good 75 minutes from the time she boarded in LAS until we deplaned at LAX - how she got that many bags of cheetos in her luggage was one thing but who the fuck eats about 2 pounds of these things for breakfast?

So anyway - Thursday evening and I'm like a kid whose school is out for summer. I resist the urge to put my tie round my head and set fire to my briefcase whilst I head to LAX to catch a 5.30pm flight back to LAS. As soon as I'm done with security I hit the Flagship lounge's bar to get my alcohol levels up and ready for Vegas mode. Having turbo-necked 3 or 4 drinks I head onto the plane and sink 2 G&Ts before arriving and catching a cab back to the Signature. Quick change of clothes and I'm off to Planet Hollywood by 7.30pm for a bite to eat at Yolos and some cash game action.

Now I don't know what it is about PH but every time I've ever played there the cash game is mental - there is always some loon throwing money about like it's confetti. I've never had anything other than a crazy session there - until now. I was the action player at this table so I only lasted an hour or so. Only hand of note was flopping the 2nd nut flush whilst on the button and getting check called all the way by the BB - who had the nut flush and actually tank called my river bet before telling his neighbour that he played that brilliantly. So I lost $100 or so on that hand rather than a full buy in which left me down $50 or so. At least the beers were coming round quickly enough to keep me occupied.

It's after 9 when I head back to the MGM - I can't be bothered playing poker too far away as it's a longer drunken stumble back to the Signature. There's a bit of a list so I head to TAP for a couple of beers before being called. Another unremarkable session that ends down about $50 having been ridiculously card dead for most of my session. Usual iffy waitress service means my alcohol levels are pretty static until I decide to call it a night at about 2am - it's only Thursday night and really don't want to peak too soon before enjoying the long weekend.

Friday morning and I'm up before 8 and I need to decide where to watch the football - my team are playing at midday. I settled on the Crown & Anchor on Tropicana - having walked there (I'm a Londoner and a couple of miles is nothing to us although I probably wouldn't do it after dark) I'd built up quite a thirst so I'm ordering my first drink of the day and it's not even half 11. 4 beers later and having seen us lose 2-0 I head dejectedly back out into the sunshine and back over to the strip and it's only just hit 2pm.

I walked back via the Hofbrauhaus, where I stopped for a pit stop and another beer, before continuing all the way down Harmon back to PH. Surely the game can't be as bad as it was yesterday can it? It's not great so I only last an hour before buying in for the tournament, which is why I'd gone to PH in the first place. The tournament ends about 8pm in a 5 way chop for a $350 profit and I'm starving. I've not eaten all day even though I've been drinking since before noon.

Now one of the only things I don't like about being on my own when I travel is eating in restaurants by myself. I much prefer to sit at the bar which is why I tend to frequent the same places time after time. So I head back over to the MGM and throw a decent sized burger and 2 more beers down my throat at TAP. That's definitely hit the spot now and I've got an appetite for my third poker session of the day.

It's whilst at the table at the MGM where I played with a guy who kept getting told that it was English only at the table (blog to follow as it's a bit long winded) but the session was reasonably successful and I booked a $150 win together with working on my drinking challenge (see below) before stumbling back to the Signature at about 3am. "How long is this weekend? It's only Friday night isn't it" my liver is screaming. I think I'm getting old.

On Saturday morning I decided to play a better structured tournament rather than the usual Vegas offering of blinds doubling every level. Or as I call them "you've paid your money now hurry up and fuck off so you can lose more money in the casino". I checked pokeratlas - hmmm there's a decent tournie at Aria but the buyin is a bit too rich for my blood at $26,000 so I settled on the $30k guaranteed pool at the Wynn for a better price of $230. Again I walked up there along Koval and only got offered drugs twice which considering it's only 11am is pretty impressive. Or depressing, if I look like the sort of guy who is out to buy drugs at 11am.

Didn't play badly but got card dead after 3 levels and ended up having to shove my last 8 or so BBs holding KQ suited and got called by pocket 10s which held - that killed 4 hours of Saturday so the day is still young when I switch to the cash tables. I've also only had 4 beers over those 4 hours - on the rare occasion I decide to play a tournament that might last well into the night I limit myself so I can still see straight if I last that long. So my lack of alcohol is getting rectified the moment I sit down.

Another unremarkable session ensued (I make a point of not forcing action at lower stakes, IME recreational players in Vegas at low limits really don't pay attention so there's no point trying to triple barrel bluff someone off top pair) and 3 hours into my session I realise I've not eaten since a small fruit salad that I had for breakfast about 9am so I head off back down to the MGM, along the strip this time as there's no way I'm doing the back route at night, stopping off at the steakhouse in MGM then the bar in the Signature for a couple of drinks before crashing out just after 1 am. Seriously? 1am? I'm ashamed of myself now. Your drinking powers are weak old man.

Which is where I'll leave this entry - it's Sunday morning and although I've got work to do I'm not going to be in LA until Wednesday so I can have a bit more fun over the next couple of days.

Current progress on my attempt to drink my own weight challenge* (see comments in my previous entry for more details):

Monday & into Tuesday - equivalent 22 bottles of beer

Tuesday - zero

Wednesday - zero

Thursday - equivalent 17 bottles of beer

Friday - equivalent 22.5 bottles of beer

Saturday - equivalent 18 bottles of beer

So I've consumed a total of 79.5 bottles of beer equivalent being 27.8kg or 61.3 pounds - given that I weigh about 180 pounds I've consumed 1/3 of my body weight's worth of beer since I left London on Monday. Fuck - that's quite worrying - or impressive. Not sure what's worse to be honest.



*Do not undertake a body weight beer consumption challenge without first consulting your doctor. Who will tell you that you're an idiot for even attempting to do anything so fucking stupid.