I'm heading back to the Bellagio at Noon to cover the last bit of the final table of the Bellagio Cup Challenge. You can read my recap of yesterday's events over at Las Vegas and Poker Blog.
I expect to play poker with tourists for my third day in a row at the Bellagio. Wheeee!
Grubby posted a hilarious recap of our trip to the strip club last Saturday. It's in the second half of his post called Stripping the Night Away on My Last $100. As always it shows that he's one of my favorite writers. Here's a bit:
I'm selective with my strippers. Particularly with $100.Yeah, I'm still working on my take of the nights events. Stay tuned. For the record, I told everyone that Grubby and I were old med school buddies. That's my "line" in strip clubs.
Pauly, however, sampled everyone who approached him (including a pair with matching tanlines that Pauly said, "Best $80 I spent in my life"). After one finished, he said, "You are a true artist. But you knew that."
His name was Steve that night, mine was Dave. My occupation was going to be a professional log roller from Milwaukee, but none of the strippers had asked.
One introduced herself as Soria. "Like the disease?" I said, repeating myself like a hack strip club regular that needs new material (I don't have Pauly's strip club patter down). I turned Soria down after envisioning some crusty substance growing on my toes. When picking a stripper name, it shouldn't recall anything in a medical textbook next to an illustrated picture.
Then I saw a vision in a red evening gown. Like in real life, the girls you're attracted to tend to walk right past you. As she passed by, I all but Christian Slatered her to get her to come over.
She had a girl-next-door/Avril Lavigne look that must be my type. And combined with a personality (okay, any personality), she was easily my favorite. She said she was from Kansas City, lived in San Diego, and her name was May. "May I have this dance?" I said, and after hanging out for a song, she got right into it at the start of the next.
The red dress didn't do her justice. "Does the dress come off?" (told ya -- no patter), and out of the dress, May was very becoming. A large tattoo was splashed on her stomach and an unnerving one on her back had two eyes that looked like they were watching me. Like the Mona Lisa. A cartoon cat was stitched on her panties: "It's my pussy." ...More
You should be reading.... Aunt Maudie's Poker Perspectives.