[2Tone]

“I'm not a businessman, I'm a business, man! So let me handle my business. Damn!” – Jay-Z

When I look back at my storied career, certainly one of the highlights will be convincing my company that it was imperative that they send me to Vegas to attend the Consumer Electronic Show. I spent full days working, but when I wasn’t working, I was playing, and there’s no better place to play than Vegas.

I arrived at McCarran mid-morning on Saturday. Unfortunately I arrived tired, as the previous night we lost power (again!) so I had to deal with that, plus general excitement about the trip making it hard to sleep.

Took a shuttle to the Palms. Vegas vet tip – the shuttle is usually faster than taking a cab, especially if the cab line is long. Plus it is much cheaper. Arrived at the Palms, checked my bag, and got on the list for the 4/8 game, half-kill (6/12), with blinds at 2/4. Fifteen minutes or so later, I I was seated. This was one of the saner game I played during the course of the trip, and after 90 minutes or so I was up $30 or so.

I was also flagging. I had originally tentatively planned on playing a marathon session at the Palms, maybe interrupted by a flick in the in-casino movie theater, straight through until the clubs opened. But with a long night ahead of me, I needed some rest.

Where does a baller such as myself stay when I’m paying for the room instead of the company? The Imperial Palace, baby. Check-in, nap. 45 minutes later I’m a new man. Let’s play some strip poker, limit please.

I stick my head in the Paris. They are not spreading any games, but running multi-table $50+15 tourneys every two to three hours. Good to know for future reference, but not what I’m looking for. Over to the Alladin, which is (still) under major renovation. The poker room is tucked away upstairs and so thoroughly hidden, it is hard to believe that it isn’t some kind of deliberate effort to discourage players from finding it. None the less, there are a couple of NL games going, though sadly no 4/8. All right, 1/2 NL it is. Buy-in for $200, which quickly gets depleted when I raise hands like AJ, and miss the flop completely. I’m down to just over $100 when I limp in from early position with KJ, and flop the nut straight. Better yet, another player has a ace with a good kicker, and doubles me up after calling my check raise. A leave up $12 or so.

Dinner time – Spice Market buffet at the Alladin. Good, not great. But I’m well-fueled for the night ahead. Let’s see, 7 p.m. Hey! It’s happy hour at Coyote Ugly! $7 gets me two Heinekens and the chance to ogle the hot bartenders dancing on the bar. But by nine the amateurs have taken over, and they are a disappointing lot. Time to head back to the Palms.

The Palms at 10:30 p.m. is considerably different than at 10:30 a.m. I want to go to the Playboy Club and Moon, their new dance club. The line is reasonable, but the cover for guys is $40. I balk, and decide to see about Rain, which had been tremendous on previous trips. Rain cover is only $20, but the line is ridiculous. No matter. I’m not back there five minutes before talking with a group of three ladies, including a local. $30 of grease and the four of us are ushered in right away, but the $20 cover for me still applies. Yes, this means I paid $50, more than the $40 for Moon, but the appreciative ladies bought me a couple Stoli and sodas to say thanks.

Rain was fun, but not quite as over-the-top as on some previous visits. The dance floor was full, but not packed. I’m not sure the Palms can support two separate dance clubs, especially with Pure and Tao pulling such crowds. The DJ’s set was also kind of predictable. After a few hours of dancing and harmless married guy flirting, I left around a little after 3 a.m.

From there, I had a free pass for the after-hours party Late Night Empire, so I decided to check it out. The Empire Ballroom is a nice space, with an elevated stage and large, spacious dance floor. But the scene and music were hard-core house/techno, which has replaced country as the one genre of music I have no interest in. Also, I haven’t been in a room with such a high percentage of people of some kind of drug since I stopped going to Phish shows after college. X to the E indeed. I finally crashed back at the IP around 4:30.

Awoke Sunday morning. Time for church services? Nah. Instead changed hotels, to the equally low-rent Exaclibur, but at this point I’m on the company’s dime, so I’m not complaining. I’m not feeling my best until after a hearty breakfast and about 18 cups of coffee at the MGM breakfast buffet. That’s better. Now I feel ready for play one of those Paris tourneys.

Structure was OK, 2000 starting chips, blind start at 25/50, increase every 20 minutes. We started with 60 players. I have no cards that could get me into trouble until I raise pre-flop with Queens, get called in two places, then have to let it go once an ace hits the flops and villain bets out big. With half the field gone, I’m treading water as short stack, make a move with J-10 suited, flop miracle trips, triple up, and am back in business. Then the wheels fall off. A short stack goes all in, I call with AQoff (dumb?), and lose the coin flip to a low pocket pair. Next I try to limp with suited connectors, and am punished for it. Short again, I push with AJ suited, am called by KQ off. King hits, I’m done in, with about 21 players left. Ah well.

Back to the Palms for more limit action. I play a long time, run well, Aces hold up in a kill pot, and I’m up $120 or so. Feel flush, I inquire again about the Playboy Club. This time cover is only $20, and I’m in the elevator headed to the penthouse floor.

The club itself is very swank. Two of the falls are entirely glass, providing a dizzying view of the the evening lights of Vegas. Another is a series of plasma screens that rotate a gallery of magazine covers from over the years. The cocktail waitresses and pit game dealers are all classic Playboy bunnies, complete with floppy ears, and fuzzy cotton tails. I nurse a $12 Stoli and soda for a while.

I’m well aware that pit games are evil. And if I’m going to play blackjack, I’m going to play $5 a hand, not $25, the lowest table min, though most are at a $100 and up. But there’s an open seat, and am I really going to be at the Playboy Club and not try my luck against a bunny? One hand, money plays. Stay on 17, she busts. $5 for the lady, and I’m out of there.

Where to? One of my many favorite things about Vegas is all of the ways that young, motivated women have to supplement their income. And if some choose to do so by performing aerobics exercises with a shiny pole on stage, who I am not to help support their athletic and artistic achievements? I had been worried about a local ordinance that had actually technically outlawed lap dances in city limits of Vegas, but am pleased to report that at least one club, these fine young ladies are exercising a very persuasive and profitable form of civil disobedience.

I return for a late night donk session at the Excalibur 2-6 spread game, which relieves me of any stray dollars I had left over from the last stop. Down 45 in that session, but still up for the trip

Coming momentarily: Part Two, in which I actually justify my company sending me to CES.