Tuesday, December 09, 2008

Harrah's on a Saturday Night

Saturday night the World Series of Poker Circuit Tour was in full swing at Harrah’s. The room was packed and action was crazy. There were enough $1-$2 and $2-$5 No Limit games to keep everyone happy. Even a $5-$10 NL popped up.

Yet, I was hanging out in the Eden Lounge with a few friends who came down from New York, and one who didn’t gamble. Since table games are out for me, the two of us walked around and hung out in the Lounge and Exhibition (a bar in the middle of the casino floor).

I can’t go into a casino and not play poker.

I’m not addicted, but the people on the casino floor are just too weird.

While in the Eden Lounge, a 65-year-old woman was dancing so hard and so much, I thought she would have a stroke before the end of the night. Worried can’t even begin to describe my feelings.




Eventually, her grinding on a few gentlemen made me burst from the Lounge.

Exhibition wasn’t any better. Perhaps a younger clientele, the amount of foolishness and debauchery was the same.

A Harrah’s employee (he had his nametag on) was working his magic on two women. He danced with the both the entire night, except for the time when he had to go back to work.

First, he danced with the chubby one while the skinnier friend shimmied next to them and rubbed her ass all over his leg. Then, he danced with the skinny chick and even picked her up while the chubby woman yelled, ‘Yeah, get her cowboy.’

I’m sure that wasn’t the last time she said that.

An older woman, probably in her 50s, was dancing with anyone who would let her. She was shaped like an upside down snowman. The big part was her boobs, the medium part was her bulging stomach and the other bump came from her FUPA (email me for what it means if you don’t know). Yet, she had the skinny, skinny legs.

After she was worn out, she sat in the lounge chair next to mine about five feet away.

She pulled out a matchbook from her purse and lit one of the matches.

“You see this,” she said. “I told this guy earlier tonight that I could put fire out with my hand, but he didn’t believe me.”

She takes her index finger and thumb, puts it over the match and turns it out.

“See, I can stop it with my hand. And you know why I do that because I have the power.”


It was 1 a.m. and I looked at my friend and said, “I’m going home.”

I learned Saturday night that people scare me. Sure, I see strange things in the poker room, but usually it’s always the same kind of weirdness and you get used to it after a while. People on the casino floor just have way too much to drink and way too much time to make fools of themselves.

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