And There's the High-Low Over at That Ghoulash Joint on West Tropicana

For a Monday, I have to admit, it was a pretty good day. I slept in, got a bunch of errands done, and also made a little bit of money. After writing up that post yesterday and finding out that yes, I *do* actually have two jobs, there were a chores to be done--like buying another couple of pairs of those sexy black polyester work pants that all the ladies dig.

I also ended up down at Sunset talking to my buddy James--He's dealt the Series the past couple of years, and starting next week I'm gonna have to deal a lot of HORSE, PLO, and Hi-Low Stud--three games I've never dealt to the grinders that lurk around the Station casinos. The room was pretty slow yesterday afternoon, so he was able to answer most of the questions that were vexing me. It's not like I don't know how to deal those games, it's just that I don't want to look like too much of a jackass when they throw me into that particular briar patch and there is big money on the line.

So once he finished up his shift, we headed over to Sierra Gold for a few beers and some wings. First of all, I'm starting to get discouraged about finding decent wings in this town. I conquered the pizza mountain when I discovered Grimaldi's, but wings, well, so far, I've only been impressed with this place called Chicken Bonz, so yeah, Sierra Gold left a little to be desired. We stayed there for a couple of hours, and then got the wild idea to find a good Omaha game.

But we didn't want to go to Boulder Station. Ugh. It's like the Memphis of locals casinos. Looks and sounds good to outsiders, but once you go there, you keep thinking to yourself God, what a dump as you discreetly try to keep one hand on your wallet.

We called around to a few casinos and found that the Orleans had three tables of 4-8 Omaha Hi-Low split going. Sold! We paid our tab and were on our way.

Confession time--I have *never* before in my life played Omaha Hi-Low split for real money in a casino. Hell, I've never even played it online. I've played with fake chips in dealer school for practice, but that ain't real poker--you might as well deal 'em face up because everyone stays to the river anyways when there is no money on the line. When I've played Omaha lately, it's only been the High version--no qualifying low cards matter.

So this was going to be a whole new experience for me altogether.

I got there first and got a seat in a game with two of the grouchiest old guys I've ever met--they were pissed off about everything on every hand. I guess that being short-stacked didn't help their disposition, either, but still, what a couple of old bastards they were. Eventually, they got broke and the game got to be a whole lot more fun.

James showed up about a half hour after I did, and he actually got a seat at my table. Bummer for him though--twice last night I made quads, and both times he was in the pot against me on the river!

Actually, I got quads three times, but the third time shouldn't count. There was this gal that came into the game, and the people next to me warned me that she was a maniac, raising and re-raising every street on almost every hand, trying to push the table around. No problemo, I thought--just gotta wait for a hand. People like that feed the game and usually go bust.

So there I was, sitting in late position with Ace-King-Ten-Eight, double suited. Of course she raised the action pre-flop, and got a couple of callers.

The flop came out 8-8-8.

Bam, I just flopped quads! And I'm in late position with a maniac in front of me. She bets out, gets two callers, and I smooth call. The turn is the Ten of Spades, no problem there, I hope somebody is dumb enough to be chasing a flush. She bets out, one guy folds, one guy calls, and I smooth call again.

The river brings the Six of Spades. She bets out, the other guy calls, and I raise.

She instantly re-raises!

Our third-wheel opponent finally realizes he's beaten like a rented mule and folds, and I'm thinking to myself, If this bitch hit a straight flush, I swear I'm gonna turn this table over like Simon LeBon at the end of the 'Hungry Like the Wolf' video...

But I re-raised her.

She glared at me for a second and and then mucked her hand. I showed the eight, and she said No shit, you've got an eight. I knew you had it all along.

WTF?

So I replied with, That's cool. Most people fold when they know they're up against quads... Thank you though.

Man, was she ever pissed off after that.

On the very next hand, I got Ace-Jack-Ten-Nine, and of course she raised pre-flop. I called, as did a few others. The flop hit me between the eyes, coming out Ace-Jack-Five, rainbow. She bet, got a caller or two, and I raised. She re-raised.

Hmmm....

Everyone else dropped out, and I re-raised her back. She just called that time, so I figured she didn't have a set of Aces or Fives. The turn was beautiful--it was another Jack, giving me Jacks full. She bet, I checked my cards, thought for a second and eventually called.

The river brought out the 'scare' card third diamond, and I was hope-hope-hoping that she'd made a flush. Of course she bet out, and I raised her again, and she re-raised me. I popped it one more time, also hoping that she didn't have pocket Aces. She just called, so I knew I was good.

She quickly turned over an Ace-high flush, but then I showed the Jacks full and she about came unglued.

Heh.

She didn't play another hand after that, just racked up her chips and left. Of course, that was about it for my good luck... I took like three really bad beats on the river, which cost me dearly, and couple of times when I had the nut low, I got quartered.

I ended up walking away after five hours, racking up a whopping $72 profit, but man, it sure was a fun game--It makes hold-em feel like a quilting bee.

Anyhow, it's late and I've *got* to go to bed at some point. It's almost 1:00 am and my alarm is set for 8:00 o'clock in the morning. I go back to the real world this morning, and I need to get some rest.

Peace out, y'all...

Mikey