Top 5 WSOP Summer Jobs

By Pauly
Las Vegas


You rolled up a stake running the gauntlet every Sunday in the online MTTs and grinding it out in local cash games at underground rooms, Italian social clubs, and cul-de-sac garages. After a profitable winter and spring, you descended on Las Vegas to claim your stake at the 2010 WSOP. Somewhere along the way an endless string of bad luck knocked you off course after donkrendous beats at the tables, relationship woes, and overall life tilt. You spewed most of your bankroll and are hopelessly praying that you win a Main Event seat through a PokerStars satellite.

Similar tragic stories happen every summer to hundreds of players who take their shot at the big time. I admire their courage in the face of overwhelming odds. But let's be realistic -- no one wants to go home a loser after a bad first half. Pride kicks in and you remain in Vegas for the rest of the summer and hope that your luck changes.

Have no fear if you're running bad this summer and shoot your load, because I compiled a lost of potential WSOP summer jobs to help you get back on your feet...

1. McDonalds.

Hey why get a generic McJob when you can get the original McJob? No matter how bad things get in life -- you can always get a job with McD's. In fact, McD's is hiring in Las Vegas right now. Worse comes to worse, you can do a variation of the Johnny Lodden prop bet when his Scandi friends bet him that he couldn't work a full day as a grocer in a local supermarket. Hey, Lodden inspired me to issue my own prop bet...

Challenge: For $420, will Benjo work at McD's for a full day? And will McD's hire an illegal immigrant and known socialist? I'd love to find out.

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2. Porn Slapper.

I can't think of a more ironic Las Vegas institution than the porn slapper. You can't walk ten feet on the Strip without encountering one of these guys. It's a pretty easy job that only requires three weeks of training at the Viva Las Vegas Porn Slapping Technical Institute, where you'll learn advanced techniques that include the Dirty Ochoa, the Quail Pipe, and the Buttered Bun.

Challenge: For $220, will Otis survive an entire 8-hour shift of porn slapping?

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3. Meth Cook.

Meth is the Axis drug of evil invented by the Germans and perfected by the Japanese. Who doesn't feel the need for speed in a 24 hour city of excess, where sometimes, Red Bull just doesn't cut it? It's simple to cook up meth, but getting supplies can be tough because you might have to go smurfing in three states to scrounge up enough Sudafed. If you got an A in high school chemistry, then your services are in high demand as a meth cook. There's also ample parking for your mobile meth lab in the Gold Coast's parking lot.

Challenge: None. Speed kills. Pollos.

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4. Census Worker.

Every ten years the government counts their citizens, and some days it seems like the world has been turned upside down since the last head count. Does the census really matter anyway, with shrinking personal privacy laws and everyone living in the easy-to-track digital age? People are living more and more of their lives on the internet, so I guess that Big Brother and Obama's Funky Bunch are more interested in those living off the grid. In order to find those rogue citizens, you can become an agent of the government and spy collect data on your fellow Americans because it's vital to national security to determine potential tourble makers. Ah, I'm just kidding with all teabagging rant because I could care less about the census. I think it's a good thing -- like a pop quiz to see which citizens are loyal, which are lazy asses, and which ones have something to hide. If you don't fill out your census by May 1, the government unleashes their agents in full force to harass remind you to fill out your tardy census forms. If you always had control issues and sought out positions of power, and if you can convincingly intimidate citizens into falling into line, then you should apply for a job as a census worker.

Challenge: $300 to any of the entities (los hombres) at Wicked Chops Poker if they can collect 100 tardy census forms. Bonus $500 if they get video of a teabagger pulling a shotgun on them.

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5. Hooker Bar.

I've wrote about the "If you ain't a pimp, then you're a whore" mantra extensively. When you're really in a tough bind, then sell your body. I know it's difficult to find steady work as a male prostitute in Las Vegas, which is why you might have to pull a scene out of My Own Private Idaho and hustle gay tricks at the Jockey Club. If you won't stoop that low, then you're going to have to hit the gym and work out to find yourself a well-to-do woman to take care of you. You have to know the plush hunting spots to bag a sugar momma (let's go old school... the term 'cougar' was sooo 00s), or catch the unicorn of girlfriend myths -- a nymphomaniac heiress with a physician father who will prescribe you any pharmie that you want.

Challenge: I will gladly pay anyone $1,000 if they get me an appointment with the unicorn's doctor father, the one with a loose prescription pad.

And in case you are wondering, the Tao of Poker is not hiring at all this summer. Sorry folks.