AC Slater and Friends

Another abandoned post, this time definitely from April 29th.

Last weekend I returned to AC with a clusterfuck of friends. Nine people total celebrating the end of bachelorhood for a friend. This was my first bachelor party, ever. I’ve always found the idea of them to be odd. Really, if I’m going to be married I hope I can still go out with just my friends when I feel like it, not just one last time before the actual wedding ceremony. But whatever.

It was weird being in AC with a bunch of people that I know. It didn’t really affect how my weekend went, it just meant I had someone I knew to celebrate with whenever the roll was hot. I have to say, AC is a lot more fun when you are there with friends, which I already knew from previous trips, but it was reinforced this weekend. I got a bit out of control though. I was the only one that didn’t sleep at all. Instead I just stayed up all night playing craps and getting drinks from a waitress that my friends had previously insulted – awkwardo. I probably wouldn’t have been able to make it all night, but I lucked into a chair at the craps table, which makes all the difference in the world. Plus it makes you feel like a high roller too. Double cool.

I actually did play a little poker when I first got to the Borgata, but it wasn’t very significant since it was a 2/4 limit game and half the players were in my group. I introduced everyone to my secrets to getting drinks quickly; pretty simple really: always order when asked and if you are empty when she comes by ask if she has anything on the tray to get rid of. That’s my secret, I know, it sounds complicated but I think you can figure it out.

Probably the best part of going to AC this weekend was that we all drove together, so we got the chance to hang out during the drive rather than having to deal with the usual greyhound crowd. Plus Anthony’s 300m is a fucking sweet ass ride.

Overall, a good time was had by all.

My experience, in numbers:

24 = number of hours spent in AC
3 = number of meals I had during that time (it really must be some kind of record for me)
36 = number of hours I went without sleeping.
23 = number of drink I ordered from the waitress (I kept count this time)
30 = number of minutes I spent in our hotel room.
3 = number of hopped nines I hit in a row (someone introduce me to the concept of parlaying, please)
2 = changes of clothes I took with me
0 = number of times I changed clothes. Also, number of minutes it took after we left before I started plotting my next AC trip.


AC – the two day adventure

I should really put dates on these blog posts when I start writing them, because it always takes me so long to get them out of the phone and onto my blog because I completely forget about them for weeks. I believe I wrote this on Sunday April 22nd. I can’t be positive.

I was itching to go to AC this weekend, so when I was looking for a hotel room, Heather turned me on to ebaying timeshares in AC. The deal was unbelievable – 240 for the entire weekend. The free room upgrade was icing on the cake. I stayed in a 1-bedrom suite that was larger than my apartment and included a Jacuzzi in addition to the shower. It fucking rocked, I took three Jacuzzi baths in the roughly 8 hours I spent in my room over two days (yes, I am a degenerate). I spent most of mytime at Caesar’s, since they comp me well and the addition of smoke free craps play just makes me want to play more.Friday I completely stuck to the craps action and that’s where I met my 70 year old doppelganger. Anyone who has logged hours at the craps table with me knows how much I love the nines (six-three in particular). As a matter of fact, I always set the dice to six-three before each throw. The old guy I met always sets his dice to five-four. In the four hours we were playing together we almostalways asked the dealer for the same bets after each roll. This is significant because though I have a strategy, I constantly change it up based on my feeling at the time. Unfortunately when anyone at the table except for the two of us was rolling I got killed. It was a horrible beating. Doppelganger Gus was awesome though, he wasn’t like the rest of the 70 year old fucks cussing the table all night, he was there to get lit up and have a good time, well, as much of a good time as a 70 year old man can have.

I finally gave up and went to sleep around 8:30 in the morning, with a phone call from the front desk at 9:30 in the morning asking me if I would like to “participate in their timeshare survey”. A special side note for all of you that might ever stay in atimeshare – they will generally leave you alone if you say that you are married, but your spouse is not with you. They won’t bother trying to sell you anything because your spouse isn’t there. I lucked in to this information, but it’s good to know for the future too.

Saturday I tooled around the city for a while, walked around the boardwalk and enjoyed the first day of nice weather since I got back from Austin. I finally settled back in to the gambling around 5pm. I started with a little craps and then headed over to the poker room to get some $1-2 NL in. I had some of the weakest players at my table with really deep pockets and they were completely lucking out when I first got to the table. After playing for a few hours I was mentally ready for a change but the poker player in me knew I wasn’t getting up from this table until the three weakest players were completely broke. They eventually did go broke, but they also kept re-buying until 5 am. I was still there. Unfortunately I didn’t get any of their money.

I learned something new about myself this weekend; I hate it when people announce a “re-raise” when there is no raise in front of them. You fucking retards, it isn’t a “re-raise” when the only action in front of you is a bet. That’s what the fucking “re-” is for. How hard is this, really?

Stop – hammer time
The guy sitting in the eight seat and I started chitchatting a bit about the players at the other end of table, both of us waiting for a chance to destroy them and take all of their money. He also was aware of the magic of the hammer, so having someone around who appreciated it,I played 7-2o the next time it came to me. I threw out a raise in early position with four callers. The flop came 7-K-2 with two diamonds I bet 3/4 the pot and had one player (new player) push all-in behind me, he was relatively short stacked and I suspected he thought his top pair was good so I instacalled and before we turned over our cards I said, “Youregoing to hate this hand”. He flips over his KQd for top pair and the flush draw just as the dealer throws out the third diamond, but he’s still a little unsure of his hand. The obvious seven comes on the river and I say, “Now you’re really going to hate this hand.” and I flip over the hammer. Without really showing any emotion he says, “Wow, this is the second time that has happened to me today; I should have taken the hint and left the first time.” Indeed.

In the 43 hours I was in AC this weekend, I ate twice and slept for a total of 8 hours. I can’t even begin to count the number of drinks I had. We’ll just go with “a lot”.

The rest of the night was relatively uneventful for me. I actually busted twice on two bad reads, first I got stacked when my pocket deucesturned a wheel only to find out that another player was holding 7-8 for the flopped nuts. Ouch. The second was just a really bad read after the winning three hands in a row, with pocket tens I bet into a queen high board. Unfortunately I was betting into a guy with KQ, not a lower pocket pair as I had suspected. Such is life. Though I’ve now had two losing sessions at 1/2 NL, I really feel like Im starting to get the game under control. Next time I go I’m playing for real.