I guess it began at lunch at the Burger bar in between mandalay bay and luxor. My friend and I, let's call him Stan decided to split a pitcher of beer, then another one while enjoying our fantastic burgers with two other friends. Stan is a bit hard of hearing, so I do not know if he heard my request to share the pitchers, but it worked out. After multiple trips to the bathroom and watching the end of the first half of the jets-chargers game we wandered mandalay bay poker room. The details at this point are hazy. Not sure how I ended up sitting next to Stan after one of the other guys had left and the other guy was at the table too. I think I recall giving my car keys to one of them and one of them leaving in a huff, none of that is important.
Over the next, well I have no idea how long, Stan and I played low limit poker in a manner fitting those with immense knowledge of the game and an immense amount of alcohol. For some reason they kept bringing us more and more jameson. Stan would make raises and calls with not so good cards, win huge hands, lose huge hands and really not care. I asked people at the table some of my favorite questions and made some of my favorite comments.
Okay, I am just not getting to the point.
Stan started to get warned for his language. He could not hear the warnings. Eventually, the manager of the poker room came and made the dealer stop dealing him cards. I played a hand or two while I helped stack his chips up so we could leave. All of the sudden, a large angry man approaches the table, I look at my hand. I have aces. He forcibly grabs my hand, puts the cards back in the middle and says I have to leave. I stood up, asked him what the fuck he was doing and what was going on. He told me if I did not leave he would have the small security guy to my left read something to me. I asked him what I did wrong and what rational reason he had for me to leave. He cuts me off, asks his small security guard to read to me the piece of paper. I can only catch every few words. I finally heard some. The paper outlined the process for me getting thrown out of the casino. I had two more warnings then they would ask me to leave the premises. I asked if I could read the paper so I could better understand it, they wouldn't let me. I asked again, ok, that's it, get your chips together, the security will escort you to get your money. I started laughing at that point. I looked down counted my friend's money and grabbed my money as the small guard grabbed my arm. I told him to stop touching me and that I was making sure I got all my money. They were calling to another guard asking to get a wheelchair to help A second older guard joined me in walking to the cage to get my cash. I started asking again to read the paper. Still, not allowed to. I keep asking and trying to figure out why my friend cursing a little too much has escalated to this. The older guard tells me that if I just keep quiet and take my money there is no problem. I ask about my friend, wandering why he isn't behind me.
The small guy says, well, your partner is downstairs. My first response was, what the fuck? My partner? I made it clear I had a friend not a partner, not gay or cheating, just better then the other players even drunk. The small guy seems to appreciate the little humor. My two guards seem to have let their guard down. As I was getting my money, thinking, crap, would've been nice to play those aces.
Just as I thought things were getting better on my end, I tell them how much I would like to have played my aces. The small guy says, well, we could send you to jail for disorderly conduct. I told him, jackass, I am an attorney, you can't pull that crap on me. Where the hell is my friend, take me downstairs so I can help him out since he is probably too drunk to figure out he doesnt have to put up with your crap. They obliged and led me downstairs, to the place I only read about in bringing down the house. So, that's where hte story gets good, I figure you didn't read this far, so I'll stop and start the rest in a post in the next day or so.
