Archive for the 'Aruba Reports' Category

Get the hell up you Turtles. It’s another early start day for us…Turtles and Lizards have to be there by 11:15 a.m. Get off the floor and stop laughing. Of course you’re wondering how 11:15 a.m. could be considered early. It all depends on your perspective and your normal sleep hours. Mine ain’t day time. I’ve been called a vampiress more than once in my life and now I believe it. Daylight hurts!!!!

But before we got there, we stopped for breakfast at the place where the iguanas hang out. This was the start of my food disappointment on Aruba. Every time I ordered, no matter where it was at, they were out of something I wanted…but they failed to tell me until after I’d placed the order. I ordered scrambled eggs with cheese and English Muffins. The Kids Across the Hall ordered Eggs Benedict. My eggs came without cheese and I was told they were out of English Muffins and they had ordered white toast for me. “NO!”

They brought me wheat toast and took the eggs back to add cheese. But D-A-M-N, the Kids Across the Hall got their Eggs Benedict on English Muffins. So…they were just out for my order? Shee-it, Mon! That makes me crabby.

We slammed down our breakfast and headed for the poker tables at the Radisson…Hello, Suzie! This is the continual motion, never stop, wonder woman that takes care of us in Aruba…we all love her. As Melissa Hayden put it, “No one wants to disappoint, Suzie…I mean…how could you disappoint Suzie?”

With no further intro needed:

While we were waiting for our line-up to be set and milling around, there was a blackjack tournament - that Ultimate Bet sponsors threw together just for the hell of it - running on a few tables in the satellite area. And here’s the million dollar question. Where do past WSOP Champions end up?

Answer? Aruba…of course…cheering for the blackjack players. Russ Hamilton won the WSOP in 1994 and Mansour Matloubi won it in 1990. You just never know who you’re going to see at a poker tournament…no matter where it’s held.

Still chuckling over this one…my start in the line-up was Table 27 in the main tournament area. This is what it looked like after I set my chips down in the Dealer’s Chair.

It just plain flat wasn’t there. All the other tables were where they should be. I yelled at Suzie, “This is a first. I’ve never been assigned a table that wasn’t there.”

She sent a few of the healthy guys to pick up a table from the back and bring it up. Yup…I was going to be expected to deal again. Drat!

I took my camera with me on this dealing venture. I just hung the strap over my knee after I slid into the box. I milled around and took pictures of people while I was on break, looked over the crowds, and in general had a great time. These are the easiest tournaments in the world to deal. No one behaves like they know everything and they aren’t rude or mean when they take a beat. It’s just poker. Just the way it should be played.

So it began again, Day One, Flight Three. I stopped to visit with Mike Matusow for a moment. His butt was dragging. He’d had a hard time with flight arrangements and no sleep. It had to be brutal for a lot of people.

I just sort of cruised on down the line…deal a few tables…take a break…deal a few more.

One hand that really was amazing happened about four hours into my day. The 8s was empty when I sat down and about 10 minutes later we got a player from a broken table. The 4s was the BB. The player UTG raised it to $2,000. The 8s raised it to $4,000. Everyone folded to the Button. The Button pondered for over a minute, looking back and forth at the players, fidgeting with his cards, and finally giving up his hand.

The BB called the raise and raised it $10,000 more. UTG…the original raiser pondered life, God, poker, his kids to be, and possibly his grandchildren to be…or at least that’s how long the lapse seemed. He eventually folded.

Now the pressure was on the 8s. He counted himself down, a little over $9,000, and he started the card fidgeting, looking at his opponent, fidget, look, fidget, look, counting down his own chips again, asking, “Do you have those Aces?”

The BB replied, “Call me and find out.”

The 8s, “The first hand. I can’t believe it’s the first hand…” He finally called. Of course he turned over K-K.

The BB turned over A-A and won the pot. The most amazing part was that UTG said he had Q-Q and the Button said he held 10-10.

Somehow the conversation developed into that I dealt at Bellagio. The BB asked something like this, “Were you in on the Andy Beal game?”

My reply was probably a little curt, “In on it? There was never any collusion in that game. They played heads-up.”

He backtracked. He didn’t mean it that way. He was reading the book, The Doctor, The Lawyer, and The Suicide King, and he was fascinated by the whole story. We did visit during my down about proposition bets and players in high limit. Everyone at the table was fascinated by the whole story line. It is a great book. It describes the whole of a player, not just their table presence.

On the last table I dealt, Men (master or not) was in the 5s and Karina was in the 6s. They were having a conversation in which I heard her say, “He makes pretty good money for a dealer. What does a dealer have to know anyway? About five things.”

Men replied, “They need to know how to call a Floor Man.”

No Shit? In general - when they deal to him - they definitely need to know that…just to survive. I was honestly disappointed in Karina’s statement. I’ve known her a long time and I would hate to think that she’s regressed into the idiot player mentality where she thinks dealers are mindless lumps.

I was out of the line-up after that table. The Kids Across the Hall were out soon too. We escaped…out into the sultry night air. Yippeee!!!!

Tuesday, the 27th, the Butterflies and Turtles were on deck at 11:15 a.m. to set up and get ready to deal flight two - day one. That was us, me and the Kid Across the Hall, Turtles Extraordinaire. We met for a meal - down where the iguanas hang out - watched a few members of our group trip by, and all in all enjoyed lazing in the shade, staring at the tranquil peace of the beach and merging of the ocean and skyline. The meal was great, so was the company, but eventually we had to move our butts down to the Radisson. We did.

Jim and me were starting in the main tournament area and Wayne was starting in the satellite area - just a big damn ballroom with divider walls, lots of poker tables, and soon to be filled with players eager to test their skills. We had a meeting a few minutes before we picked up our chips and headed for our individual tables and before we knew it, we were greeting players, checking their receipts for table and seats, and getting ready to crank out the cards. Truthfully, the cards sucked. They were some type of paper with the Ultimate Bet logo on them and after one round of the table, immediately bonded to each other with the humidity. Ugh!!!

I was starting at the last table in rotation, then on break, and head for Table 1. After I got to Table 3 or 4, the missing player in the 1s showed up…he’d been missing since the beginning of the tournament. Layne! He sat down and started kibitzing with me. I miss counted a player’s bet a few hands later and Layne peered intently into the side of my head, tapped my head, and asked, “Are you blonde in there?”

I laughed, “No but a little gray. Mother Nature just won’t cooperate.”

He asked, “Can you feel gray?”

I looked at his hair, “Where’s your gray at?”

“No. I mean…can you feel it? Because I feel like I have gray hair.”

Guess he’s feeling life but I couldn’t help but laugh.

He flirted around with a few pots and won them. Chip Jett was in the 8s and they started their own conversation. I got pushed out.

Much later, and further down the line, the blinds went to $150-$300. The 3s, a woman, said, “Raise,” and put out two $100 chips, then reached back and put out two $1,000 chips. The 4s folded, the question was posed, “Can she do that?”

Where was my brain? I don’t know. I was still on holidays. I said I thought she could. The 5s said he was sure she could only raise it to double the BB but to call for a decision just in case. I did.

When Jack walked up to make the decision, before I could open my mouth, the 5s blurted out something like, “She said raise and then only threw in $200. What can she raise to?”

I said, “Next time I’d like to ask the question…”

The 5s jumped in, “Some people just like to hear themselves talk.”

He was looking at me. I think he was implying that I liked to hear myself talk…umnhhhhh! Guess he showed me.

A few tables later and the players were on a short break. Erik Siedel came over to visit with me for a moment, asking about my website and mentioning that he’d been by and noticed a lot of changes. Don’t think for one half of a second that that isn’t pretty sweet. Nice! I did deal to him a few hours later.

Almost as soon as the players came back from break, I had to get another decision. Heads-up action, BB player threw out five $500 chips at the same time the Button Player threw in $1,500. When I told the Button that the bet was $2,500, he grabbed his bet back. I told him he couldn’t do that either, the chips had to stay, so he tried to push all of his chips in at that point. “DECISION!”

The decision? He could either forfeit the $1,500 or complete the call, but he sure as hell couldn’t raise at that point.

I ended up on break. I headed upstairs to the gift shop to pick up a double Red Bull and as I started across the foyer, I could see Phil Helmuth blasting out of the stairwell I’d just come from. I knew he was busted out just from the way he charged across the foyer.

Back into the Box. A few tables later, Phil came up to the player in the 1s at my table and apologized, asking if the 1s thought Phil swore at him. The 1s said, “No. I thought you were just swearing about poker.”

Phil, “Good. I didn’t think I swore at you but they said I did.”

They shook hands, a minute more of small talk, and Phil left. The 1s kind of chuckled and said something like, “Now I don’t have to have security escort me out.”

I started laughing.

Apparently Phil had flopped a set of fives and the 1s Rivered a set of Queens. Phil is just damn good press. I can’t help but get a kick out of his temperament and how intricately it twists itself into his poker play. Did I say intricately?

At one point I pushed a six ball. After 11 or 12 tables, me and the Kids Across the Hall were out of the line-up. We decided on Gilligans for dinner…a small bar/eatery on the beach that is part of the Radisson. As we stood in line, waiting to be seated, Erik S. appeared right behind us. I asked him if he’d like to join us and he did. Another super treat! What a great guy. He left before we finished because he was on a ‘player’s dinner break’.

Wayne and I ordered a bucket of beer each, that would be four in a bucket of ice, and it was less expensive to buy it that way. But of course we knew we were going to drink it too. I kept drinking. We cruised the poker rooms. The Kids Across the Hall had much more stamina for the fine of art of poker than I did. I was ready to be a lazy dog, swimming, more beer, and writing…what else is there?

This is part of the Bad Beat Rules at the Wyndham.

And in case you can’t read it:

12: Only English, Spanish or Papiamento spoken during hands.
13: Players may ask dealers for translations at anytime.

Can’t help but chuckle over the simplicity of it. Maybe it should be adopted in the States.

So much to do, so little time to do it in. Isn’t that always my major complaint with life? I can never find enough hours in the day to do everything I want to accomplish…and yet I’m so hard headed that I just keep competing with myself to beat the clock. D-A-M-N! It sure is exhausting. So…let me back track to Monday. All of us ‘Turtles’ were off because we supposedly worked late on Sunday night. Most certainly a few of us did. I was NOT in the ‘few’ of us grouping. I really was on HOLIDAYS.

Monday was our free day. Me and The Kids Across the Hall set out to stroll down the beachside to all the hotels that had a casino because Wayne is a chip collector and had some chips to turn in for someone else and chips to buy for himself. It was an adventure…possibly on how much money we could spend buying beer all the way down and back. We stopped for breakfast where the iguanas hang out every day for their handout - the same place we had eaten the day before.

They seriously look like they are waiting for something to happen…maybe for the stupid humans to wake up and start feeding them.

The Marriott is over a mile from the Wyndham, on the beach side. If you walk the highway side it’s much further. And which side would you think we took? We took beer with us, downed it, and stopped at the Excelsior Casino (inside the Holiday) for chip/cash exchange. Their casino and poker room were pretty quiet. The poker room was worse than quiet. It was downright damn empty, except for the dealer that sold Wayne a rack of chips. Wayne and Jim sorted through the rack, looking for the best of crop - and the Excelsior has three different styles of $1 chips.

We hit a small store in the Holiday for brew to take with us, buying two at a time because it was cheaper…believe it or not.

We made it to the Marriott and exchanged money/chips there. We sat down in the foyer, allowing the breeze to cool us down slightly, and visited. While we were talking, Layne Flack waltzed by with ‘to go’ bags in his hands. I said something like, “Hey, Cowboy, where you going?”

He laughed and made a comment that sounded like he was a food runner - and went on by. We headed back out into the sun and the sand.

We stopped in another hotel/casino (can’t even remember which one right now) and the whole place was jamming. Bingo was on! All the slot machine seats and pit tables were full of people playing bingo. And the worst of it is they all had markers and paper bingo sheets. Nothing sophisticated like push slots or electronic boards…these people were dedicated to their bingo. I don’t think there was one slot machine that didn’t have a bingo player’s butt in the seat.

We hit the beach again and headed for our home away from home. I saw this delightful bird. The zoom is to the max on my camera and I thought the picture turned out great considering how far away the bird was.

The Kids Across the Hall really liked this bird and demanded that I take a picture…so I zoomed her too.

We seemed to be collected and cool as we drank our way back down the beach. I don’t know how or why but even though Jim was halfway behaved before dinner, he turned into a totally ‘chatty Cathy’ as the evening progressed. He said absolutely nothing that mattered and jumped from thread to thread in an incessant run of conversation that would drive a drunk to sobriety. I’m wondering if this had anything to do with his ass being so damn drunk. And this was his first venture into the ocean…wading.

Dinner time found us at the Sunset Grille at the Radisson…our second meal there. We had such great service and the food was damn good…and it was one of our $20 designated meal places. Jim never slowed down, talking nonstop throughout the meal and we, of course, had more to drink as we listened, and listened, and listened. Jim tipped the guitar player. Wayne and me are still teasing him about that. Sorry, it’s one of those ‘you would have to be there’ things.

Although it’s only been a few days ago, I really can’t even remember the full events of the night. That was my first early a.m. beach walk, and not a lot of sleep before The Kids Across the hall called and woke me up for breakfast. So all in all, it was a long day and memory escapes me. *edit* I got it straight from the horse’s mouth…Jim’s that is. We had all planned to go swimming. After I changed and rapped on their door, Jim was planning on watching football for a little bit with his eyes closed and snores escaping from his lips. Wayne and I hit the pool. Even though it was a little more than c-o-o-o-ol, and almost uncomfortable after 20 minutes or so, we stayed. Finally we gave up and headed for the ocean. It was like bath water…perfect. Soon after that, I was toast…sleeping like a baby on the 10th floor.*end edit*

In the meantime, the first flight of Day One of the Ultimate Poker Classic Tournament Championship had finished. The first flight left 79 players in action…impatiently awaiting Day Two which wouldn’t happen until the 29th.

Tomorrow we would be dealing the second flight of Day One. Time to sleep - or try to. My average of sleep hasn’t been very good since I hit the island. But tomorrow I really do have to burn and turn. Kee-rist! They really did bring me here to deal.

*****

Play poker with all the stars on Ultimate Bet and win a tournament so you can join me here next year!

Sunday…the only day that I’ve slept like a rock and loved every second of it…Satellites were running in the ballroom of the Radisson, along with other buy-in tournaments. My group - The Turtles - was scheduled to deal live at the Radisson Poker room at 8 p.m. (All groups had different assignments and times to deal.) Sunday was also the Welcome Banquet for Online Package Winners, it started at 7:30 p.m. but The Kids Across the Hall and me had decided we were going to find someplace to eat before we had to be at work. We managed to shower, dress, and meet in the hallway somewhere around 6:30ish.

We were each given five coupons worth $20, dated, for daily use at the Radisson…so were the players in the tournaments. Sweet! The biggest draw back to Aruba is the food situation. Everything closes by about 10 p.m. and the food is horribly expensive, coupled with the fact that the establishment automatically tacks on a 15% gratuity for their staff. The coupons help offset a lot of the food cost.

We ran into Melissa Hayden and asked her if she had any recommendations for food at the Radisson. She didn’t steer us wrong. We went to the Sunset Grille and loaded our faces with food.

After grazing until we were stuffed, we walked through the Welcome Banquet. It was a serious Pirate theme. We were given plastic swords, pirate handkerchiefs for do-rags, and an eye patch. There were several of these guys moving through the crowds.

We saw Devil Fish and said ‘hello’. He looked and walked like he had been out swimming with the fishes in a bucket of rum. It didn’t stop me from getting a hug though. I’m a celebrity slut to a degree. But then I dealt to most of these players before they became celebrities so why not get a hug now that they’re famous?

I popped on the ‘do-rag’ as we were cruising through the people and the crowd. We left the Banquet just as they were introducing Annie Duke to everyone (BTW she looked fabulous) but not before I looked like this.

So…we hit the Radisson poker room. They didn’t need us to deal yet and I spoke with Mace to see if he’d just excuse the three of us and we’d play poker. Yup! We went on the premise that if he needed us to deal, we would…sort of like the E/O Play thing in the States. We were not going to receive any hourly pay, just tips, and everyone knew that before we started. Wayne and me found a seat in a $4-8 H game shortly after going on the list. Jim jumped into $15-30 H.

Moshi was at my table, along with a woman from Vegas that Wayne deals to at the Palms, Audrey. About an hour later Suzanne got a seat at my table. She used to be the Front Brush at Bellagio. She’s since gone on to work for herself in an internet business her and her husband, Brock, have built from the ground up.

Later in the night, The Kids Across the Hall and me talked with a few other ‘Turtles’ that were dealing the room. Some of them were making very little money in tips and others were doing quite well…it all depended on what they were dealing. The Aruba dealers don’t want to deal anything over $4-8 limit. Sipu and another dealer got stuck dealing an Ace to Five Triple Draw game with players that play in Vegas. That was their rotation for the night and everyone else got shifted around the game. I think I’d have had a fit if it had been me. But it wasn’t so I don’t have to think too hard about it.

Around midnight or so, I gave up. I’d won one small pot when I first sat down and never drug another chip after that. I ran out of steam, chips, and desire to play all at the same time…so I said goodnight to The Kids Across the Hall and headed for the room. There were all kinds of tables open and I didn’t even check with Mace.

I was full of Balashi…island brew…and ready for a swim. I hit the pool about 2 a.m. - beautiful night, the water was just right, and I was ready for sleep.

I didn’t find out until the following a.m. that Mace had come to The Kids Across the Hall about 3 a.m. and told them he really needed them. They ended up dealing for a couple of hours. She-it, Mon! I’m really glad I left when I did.

With our schedule for dealing, if we are on the ‘deal late’ roster at the Radisson, we get the following day off. Damn! How kewl is that?

Wow! I have a lot of catching up to do. It’s ugly. How many brain cells can I find that will pull together and help me concentrate on memory…kind of like running a hard drive without enough RAM and a processor that’s too small. Besides, I just put in a real dealing shift - in Aruba - and came back to my room to pour a really cold can of Ultra into a glass that was in the freezer compartment of the small refrigerator I requested for the length of my stay. The beer and glass were both so cold that they created a mix of froth and frozen crystals that kept running over the top of the glass. Hell yes, I had to keep sipping to keep it from running over the sides. It was incredible…the taste…crisp, cold, and just what the witch doctor ordered. Yumblie!!!!!

Now that I’ve explained that I’m drinking, I need to catch up so let me start with my view.

That’s any given morning, but check out the sunset.

Ain’t it just too beautiful for words? Kind of makes me feel as if my spirit has taken flight. No…it’s not the icy cold beer talking.

Backtrack to Saturday, the 24th. My buddies (Jim and Wayne) are now ‘the kids across the hall’. We asked for adjoining rooms but I guess all the rooms at the Wyndham were full so it just wasn’t to be…they are directly across the hall though. Their room stinks. It smells like musty mildew and mold that has been processed, canned, and sprinkled all over a room. Do I know why? Hell no! Mine smells all fresh and sparkly new - but theirs is ’stanky’.

I asked for a refrigerator at check-in. I knew I was heading for a grocery store. After our first night of buying brews, The Kids Across The Hall knew they were going grocery shopping too.

We got up somewhere around 10 or 11ish and hit the restaurant on the beach for ‘brekkie’ before heading for the front desk and a cab.

Believe it or not, these guys are regulars, all over the outdoor restaurants, and we have to watch out for them. But they don’t bite, they like veggies. This beauty was around two feet long.

While we were feeding and watching people, and watching people watch the beauty above, a bird that was roaming the area (lots of them there as they’ve become food sluts…waiting for a handout - just like a poker railbird), flew right onto the rim of Jim’s glass and splashed around in his coke. It was so unexpectedly funny, we all busted up. He tried to drink the coke but we held him back…the bird silly. Jim insisted on a fresh glass.

Our waitress took a picture of us…and then the bitch acted like she was dropping my camera as she handed it back. Hah…hahhhhh…hahhh! Funny! NOT! She was a great waitress but she lost me when the fake camera trick happened. I liked her customer service though.

We headed for Ling & Sons Super IGA Center, a new grocery store on the island. Shopping at its finest. I picked up a little over two cases of Ultra, p-nut butter, graham crackers, broccoli, apples, rye crackers, and shampoo.

This is what Wayne bought:

Jim just stood there. Hell…he was waiting for someone to come in with a forklift.

We finally made it to the Cashier. Each of us left a healthy chunk of change in the registers for the Aruba economy. We had arranged for the cab driver, that delivered us, to come back in an hour. He was there waiting as we filled his trunk with our goodies. And what a system they have, it was cheaper going because he wasn’t hauling anything but us. Go figure!

Back to the hotel, unload, have a bell person load up and take our stuff up to our rooms. We were there waiting. Don’t think we hadn’t already been drinking…we were. We slammed down more brews as we discussed what time we should head over to The Radisson for the dealer meeting.

Suzie Lederer is our group commander in Aruba. She works her butt off getting all the dealers organized and informed and there, and she runs our line-up and works through each shift, staying there as long as she’s needed, to make sure we are taken care of and that we show up and do our jobs. We gathered across two rows of five tables and each row drew to see what we were…butterflies, fish, lizards, porpoises - our row? Tortoises. We were kewl with that. Especially since the Butterflies were going to have to deal live at the Radisson that night. We were free, wild, untamed, slow moving, hard shelled creatures that lived in the desert…ok…some of them live in the ocean. But we did NOT have to be to work until Sunday night at 8:15, then we would be dealing live at the Radisson. But for tonight, we were on the loose again.

I asked Wayne to put his hand out on the felt…the 1st hand.

After we left the dealer meeting, at the top of the stairs, in the foyer of the Radisson, we saw Phil Helmuth - a couple of hitchhikers in tow - heading for the place we just left. He had six champagne glasses in one hand and a bottle of…let’s assume it was Dom Perigon in the other. We exchanged a few words…not that he knows or remembers or differentiates between me and the sand crab out in back of the joint. But he did speak to us.

We hit the Radisson poker room for live play. Wayne and me jumped into a $4-8 Holdem game and Jim went to $15-30. The dealers had no idea - they did know they had a deck of cards in their hand but that was the extent of it…nice people though.

In one hand, three way action, (BTW you can bet $4 or 8 on the Flop. No shit? Yup!), 5s bet, 10s called, the 1s released $8 and reached back for $8 more and then said, “Raise!” as he released the next $8.

The 5s looked at the dealer and said, “He can’t raise. It’s a string bet.”

The dealer pushed back $8 to the 1s and said, “No raise.”

The 1s argued, “I said raise.”

The dealer took $8 from the 1s, stacked it in front of the 1s, looked at the 5s and said, “Raise.”

The 5s said, “He can’t raise.”

The dealer pushed back the $8 to the 1s and said, “No raise.”

The 1s argued and pushed the raise back out. Pointing to the 5s, I said, “He’s right. It’s not a raise.”

The dealer looked at me and then pushed back the $8, “No raise.”

We got past that. No one got a missed blind button…except me. After I’d been playing about two hours, I went to the restroom and came back to a ‘missed blind’. I went to the floor man to find out if that’s what’s supposed to happen. “Yes!”

His name is Mace, him and his brother, Dane, own part of the poker room. Mace asked me if we would all help the dealers as much as we could as they had to be trained. Umnnnnn! Ok.

I finally ended up about $80 winner. I had the best time with Moshi…he was in the 10s and really fun to play poker with. He was on a heater when I sat down and I never picked up a hand to get involved with so I watched the action. He helped me get winner and also took me off a few hands…but that’s poker.

I was tired of playing and my butt was dragging. It was close to 3 a.m. I left The Kids Across the Hall still holding down their section of green felt. I headed for the room. I kept trying to remember if we ‘dined’ that night but the answer is “NO”. We drank that night. I had a lot of Balashi, the local beer, after I took a seat in the $4-8 game.

I made it to the room, had a snack, gave up beer for the night, and crashed. I managed to sleep until around 4 p.m. God…I don’t know how. I haven’t managed to get even close to seven hours at a time since then. But it sure was nice. Sand Woman Land just pulled me in, snuggled me up, and away I went. Good night, Aruba!

We made it to the airport with plenty of time to spare - on the 23rd. I got all kinds of shit from my traveling buddies…”Linda’s got airport phobia!”

*edit* And I got all kinds of shit for stating ‘plenty of time to spare’. They were ribbing me because we were three hours early and insisted that I write it here. They forgot to add that my son woke up in the middle of his night to give us a ride and he picked up all of us - in my vehicle - so no cost to them except their lazy butts didn’t want to hang out for an extra hour…wooooooo…bad beat! *end edit*

Yup! Can’t stand the thought of being late and having to run to catch a flight, let alone missing it altogether. And did I forget to add that I just plain hate the plane facts? Like getting to the airport, millions of miles of ropes that cordon us off into little trails that lead to a luggage check-in and boarding pass counter, people jostling and bumping each other, leave your luggage over there - “Is it locked?”, then off to the Security check point and more millions of miles of ropes and little switch back turns to more little trails, then take off your shoes, get your laptops out of the case, take off everything that may beep as you pass through the metal detectors…but be sure to have your boarding pass and ID in your hand as you go through, then slam your shoes back on and your laptop into its case and try to collect all your belongings as other people’s belonging filled trays are already slamming into you and yours, move off to find a thousand people trying to do the same thing you are - board the tram to your gate. Good God! There’s no reason to feel any stress about this type of thing. And then I know when I board the plane, I have NO space that’s my own for the length of the flight…that really hurts. I like my own space.

While we waited for an hour or so to pass, we played Big Deuce, ate, and said ‘hi’ and visited with other dealers that were on the same flight we were waiting for. BTW the buddies owe me a couple of pennies but they failed to narrow down what we were playing for. Not to worry, I’ll get them…the pennies that is.

When we finally boarded, the flight was full. It was the flight from hell. Bumpy, rough, stuffy and overly warm, miserable because the guy next to me was totally rude and had the center seat, he wasn’t a petite little ballerina and he made sure he sprawled out on the arm rests. Ugh! There went my space. David, the dealer/player behind me kept pushing his knees into my seat which hit me just a little lower than lumbar support. It would’ve been ok if he’d just held still. No go! I finally reached back and smacked his knee. He stopped after I explained. The beer was shitty, they had two choices, shitty and shittier. I had one and gave up. Tried to sleep but it was miserable as I had the worst case of Alien Legs I’ve ever had on a plane. What the hell are Alien Legs? Restless Leg Syndrome. My sis and I refer to it as Alien Legs because your legs feel as if they don’t belong to you and they keep trying to drift off somewhere into outer space. It’s the angle of the seats and their shortness that bothers me, they hit me right in the middle of the thigh.

The flight from Miami into Aruba was pretty easy to take. Lots of empty seats and I had three to myself. I managed to stretch out and snooze. One downside to the whole damn flying thing, we were on American Airlines and they give nothing away. Well let me change that to they give away a crappy granola bar, water, and soft drinks. If you want food, you must pay for it. She-it! The shitty beer was $5. Why pay $5 or more for a shitty sandwich?

We made it through customs, found a cab…after the self appointed taxi concierge (a local) tried to flag down a van for us that didn’t stop so he flipped it off and did the fuck thing. We were laughing at how universal sign language is.

We ended up with a female driver. This was a first for me on the island. She explained that it was election day and most of the cab drivers were already home. Also that drinks would only be served in casinos, due to election day all the party joints and stores were closed. It didn’t slow us down too much. We got checked in and hit the beach side of the hotels, drinking all the way. We had to attend a dealer meeting that was scheduled for 8:30 p.m. on Saturday but it was Friday…so-o-o-o….

Our first stop was the beachside bar behind the Wyndham. The Buddies had blended drinks, I went for Ultra…they didn’t have any so I picked another one. We stopped at a beachside bar at the Radisson, jumped up onto the barstools, prepared to order, and the guy behind the bar asked if we were staying there. We said, “No. We’re at the Wyndham.”

“We can’t serve you then.”

“What???”

Another gent behind the bar came over and showed good sense when he asked what we wanted, kind of shooing the first guy away. We thought it must have been because of the election but we didn’t ask. We got one to go (yes, they had Ultra…yoo hoo) and headed for the Holiday. We went into the Excelsior Casino (inside the Holiday) headed for the Poker Room, and I visited with Marta for a moment. I dealt an hour or so for her last year and then played with her at the Wyndham. Nice to touch bases again.

Then we went back down to the beach. We stopped at one point to watch sand crabs or geckos or something and Lisa W. caught up to us. No grouchiness between us this year. We did a hug and make-up thang. She told us everyone was back at the Radisson, to come back and join them. Suzie had just got there with a group of other dealers and players. So we went back. More drinks. Somehow, our first night on the island ended. More later.

It seems a lifetime ago that I started the 2004 Aruba report. And it was a hell-uv-a long time ago. Time to finish before I begin dealing the 2005 event…and yes, I am.

The final event was filmed at the Azzuro Restaurant on October 1st.

On October 2nd, the Gold Bracelet Final Table Tournaments were on. Suzie rented a catamaran for the day of the Gold Bracelet Events and planned to take all available dealers our for a day of fun and surf. Since this kid has a motion sickness thing going on and too much sun makes me feel like I died and literally went to hell, I opted to pass and deal the events.

There were six events in all and out of all of the players in the Bracelet Events, I particularly remember Rick Sherrill. He was grumping a tad about some of the dealers and seemed genuinely happy to see me plant my butt in the box. He won the PLO 8 Tournament and wanted me to find the Gold Bracelet he would receive at the Awards Banquet and take his picture with the bracelet and chips at the table. I did…not with my camera but with his. I teased him when I handed him the bracelet and told him not to try to sneak it into his pocket because I had to turn it back into security within a few minutes. At first I didn’t think he was going to ‘get it’. He did though and shared the laugh.

Once the Gold Bracelet events were over with, dealing was a thing of the past…vacation time! We attended the Awards Banquet at the Radisson Pool Area that night. It was quite festive, native feathered costumes adorned the area and a group of dancers that performed for us, moving through the crowds. Food was everywhere, ice sculptures adorned some of the tables, music, people filtering around the pool area, music, and announcements and awards by Ultimate Bet filled quite a few hours of the night.

The one and only HUGE downside to the whole trip and all of the events and time spent outdoors, MOSQUITOES! Everywhere, swimming, eating, walking, they were out for the flesh buffet. The hurricane that had passed by the island just before we arrived had something to do with their overpopulation of the island…lots of water everywhere.

Each of us dealers had our own room, I believe it was because rooms were overbooked in anticipation of more online qualifiers, but whatever the reason…SWEET! Grace and me had elected to stay a few extra days after the tournament and we knew we would be paying for our own rooms so we opted to share. Paula, another tournament dealer, was staying longer but had no one to share a room with so we sent for a rollaway bed and the three of us split the cost.

The tokes were being distributed at Suzie and Howard’s room… at the Radisson. Party time. All kinds of alcohol, noise, festive mood, and money being handed out. I asked Suzie if I could have mine next because I had the least amount of downs of any dealer. *laughs* I think I might have tied with one other dealer or had one more than them. Suzie obliged.

The following day I rented a 4x jeep. Grace and me set off to tour the island on our own for a day. Some of the roads were closed due to excessive flooding and water during the hurricane. Even though we had an island map, it was still hard to figure what went where. We drove around the island as much as we could and still remember where we were and how to get back to our hotel…lots of roads were closed and detours were ever present due to the excessive rains washing out areas and roads. We did hit the State Park and found all kinds of cactus, and Divi-divi trees across the terrain and zillion roaming goats that apparently belonged to someone but it was like free range. This is one of my all-out-alltime favorite pictures taken in Aruba in the State Park:

While on this trip through the Park, we found the ‘other side of the island’, surf exploding onto rock cliffs, and one of the Aruba caves that is protected by the Parks Department. Amazingly, the Parks Department has two guides, waiting to give you a brief tour of the cave and explain the history of the cave and the writing on the ceiling…rusted gates are pulled together and locked at night when the guides go home. Intermingled with present day mankind attempting to deface the writing on the ceiling, I found this…dated 1849:

And older than old, I don’t even/can’t even remember how many thousands of years ago the guide said this one was:

We ended the Jeep Day by cruising around by Baby Beach, through the downtown traffic and back to The Wyndham.

The next day we went to town. Big argument over taking a taxi or a bus. Jesus! Too many things on this trip felt like rough burlap on my skin. Give me the taxi, give me peace, and let’s just cruise. We did the taxi thang. Downtown Aruba is a kick. A big European looking building on the left (the mall), brightly colored and filled with shops, and on the right, the flea market with the ocean behind it. We shopped. And shopped. And shopped. I spent more than I wanted to but less than I would have if I’d found more stuff to bring home to my family and a few friends. That shopping stuff is exhausting. One of my favorite shops in the mall is Vibes. They get quite a few of my $$$$ when I’m there. And the best part of it is that they always deliver the goods to my hotel and I don’t have to drag it around with me while I do more shopping.

We dined on a wharf out over the water that night. Paula and I wanted lobster. We got it. Grace did a hamburger thing. The menu didn’t include a hamburger at night but since Paula and me were doing lobster, they gave in to the hamburger. The lobster and the cook and our waitress were all up in the top of the list category for a good time. When questioned about the bill…not by me…our waitress explained that the amount automatically added on the bill for ‘gratuity’ automatically goes to the establishment to be split between all of the employees. I may have over tipped her for that reason. Or maybe it was because she was damn cheerful and cute. Or maybe it was because I was in Aruba feeding on fresh lobster. Or maybe it was because I was drinking. The only downside? Those damn MOSQUITOES!

We booked a bus tour of the island and did the ‘tourist thang’. the following day It was fun, except for a few spots that were conflicting and irritating but I don’t want to go into those…negative doesn’t make for good feelings so I try to let it disappear like smoke in the wind. The main part of the bus tour I didn’t like was the final stop at Baby Beach. The stop was for almost two hours and it was hot…hot…hot…no shade, nowhere to go, and I ain’t into the heat, sand, water, and sun blasting through your skull to burn your brain out. Paula and I opted to stay on the bus during this time period. The bus driver wasn’t happy with us because he had to leave the bus running and he originally wanted to lock the doors of the bus during that two hour time period. Oh well….even bus drivers get bad beats. Paula and me had the Driver drop us downtown so we could hit the Flea Market one more time before the up and coming departure the following day. We tipped him…he must’ve smiled then, even though he wasn’t happy with us a few hours before.

One of the myths I’ve heard for years, about Aruba, was dispelled on this trip by the bus driver and a guide in the caves. Years before, they did shoot diseased cats and dogs and throw the garbage - and the dead animals - off the ‘other’ side of the island to supposedly keep the sharks feeding there but it has not happened in years. There is no ‘chumming’ area for sharks. The water is so warm that most sharks don’t even swim into the island area to see if there’s a tasty human flailing about in the water…they stay out in the channel as they swim by. Good!

The flight home was misery…they usually are for me. I hate being confined to a seat on an airplane for hours…and don’t think the plane change was easy, it wasn’t. We made the gate for the transfer and it had been changed to another gate. Did I ever tell myself or anyone else how much I HATE airports. It’s always so nice to be home. But before I know it…time to hop another flight and head for Aruba for the Ultimate Bet 2005 event.