My Day in the WSOP
(Or, How I learned to Stop Sulking and Love My 500th and Something Place Finish)

Okay, folks. This is coming to you about a month and a half late. But I think it's okay, because the World Series of Poker is still being referred to in the future tense in print magazines (see Jennifer Tilly's latest article in BLUFF.) My post is a long time coming because I've been - drumroll please - making art in my studio! Yup, after months and months of artists block I've finally tapped into some crazy crevasse of my brain that allows for some artmaking. And I've also been reading a lot (well, two or three books a month, which is unheard of for me). And I've also been spending countless hours preparing invitations and other crap for my 10 year high school reunion (only to be called an "idiot" by one of my oh-so-grateful former classmates both via email and in person, but that's a rant I'll save for later.) Does that mean that I really honestly haven't had time to blog? Well, no. I've also been watching a lot of TV and sleeping on the couch. But I'm finally back and ready to share my ramblings with you, and tonight I'm accompanied by a very special friend... my favorite rum & coke variation: Cruzan Vanilla Rum and Diet Sam's Choice Cola. And a couple leftover Krystal burgers.

So while Mr. Rum & Coke and I get a little more intimate, I'll reminisce with you my experience playing in the Ladies' No-Limit Hold'Em event at the 2006 WSOP.

Before registering for any tournament at the WSOP, you have to get a player's card. Since the Rio (site of the WSOP) is a Harrah's establishment, anyone who has a player's card at a Harrah's casino is already in the computer system. Well, I had a player's card from Caesar's from when I played in the summertime Vegas blogger tournament (WPBT) - so when I tried to get a card at the Rio the night before the tournament, the man behind the counter was shocked to see that I was listed as male. Apparently in all the crazy hubbubb of registration for the WPBT at Caesar's they entered me into the system as a man. Little did I know that the next day this male/female thing was going to be an issue in the Ladies' event, when I encountered more bull dykes than I've ever seen in my life, all added together. More on that later...

So I got my player's card, had my sex changed, paid the $1000 mad cash to register, and I got my seat: Table 94 seat 9. Then I went home to get some good sleep.


*interjection: I couldn't have played this tournament without the generosity of a certain someone who backed me into it. I was lucky enough to be at the right place at the right time and the opportunity came up. I won't mention names because I have a feeling that wouldn't be too cool, since everyone would then be going to this person for money for tourneys. But if that person is reading this, thank you very much for this once in a lifetime experience.

Morning came.

Lydia and I went to the Victorian Room at Barbary Coast for a solid breakfast, where we had an embittered waiter from Bahrain or somewhere like that. My breakfast was called the John Wayne - it had lots of greasy proteins. Then we hopped a shuttle to the Rio and I entered the cattle chute into the tournament area. I entered the tourney room listening to my anthem of the day: "The Rocky Theme" performed by the Cincinnati Pops. And as I'm squeezing into the area to find my table in an unlikely horde of bull dykes and beauty queens, who happens to be directly behind me looking for her table? That's right, Ms. Jena Delk, CJ's married crush from New Orleans! So we gave each other a warm hug and wished the other good luck. She was looking absolutely stunning, as usual, and her beauty was accentuated by her beaming smile. So that was a nice start to the day.

With the Rocky theme pounding through my veins, I found my seat and waited for the event to begin.

Phil Laak made some low decibel indiscernible opening announcements, and they shuffled up and dealt!

I was quite lucky in that seat 10 was vacant for most of the first level, so I was always able to scoop my blinds. I doubled up by round two and felt pretty good about things - until seat 10 started getting all crazy whack hyper aggressive with nothing in her hand. She kept going on about how her husband plays poker but she was just there to pass the time and didn't really know the game, blah blah blah. And I guarantee a lot of women in that room said the exact same thing in the hopes of making the others think they were donkeys when in reality they are damn good players. But this woman was not a good player. She wasn't telling a tale. She didn't know how to play the game. And having her directly to my left was really aggravating, especially since I wasn't catching any cards. Then they moved me.

I got seated at the table with Mimi Rogers -- I was in the 3, and she was in the 7 (I think -- it's been a couple months...) Anyway, we were facing each other from the far ends of the table. And I was seated next to a dyke who sat with her knees farther apart than any man I've ever seen. My knees were pressed between her left and the right of the other lady beside me. Not comfortable. There was another hyper aggressive crazy bitch at this table who had about 6 times the chips of anyone else at the table. And I'd been studying Harrington, and I know you've got to tangle with those people sometimes, but I wasn't catching! I'd been raising pre-flop with the hands I was supposed to raise with, but then I'd totally miss the flop and have to fold. That happened over and over again. And my mantra going into this thing was "Be aggressive. Aggressive poker is winning poker. You can't live unless you're willing to die."... But when you keep raising with decent hands but have to fold because you know you're beat, it gets pretty shitty. By this point my nice stack had dwindled, and I knew I had to try a different approach. I needed to really tighten up for a while, and just go after monster hands.

...And that's where I made my big mistake.

(to be continued)