Michele Lewis

Just returned home from a small Las Vegas dose of this summer’s WSOP media row…well, it was a preview…should I return.  I was in and out of Vegas in less than 48 hours…exhausting.  Here’s a what happened link dump.

Sunday Evening:

• I didn’t get a first class upgrade but the outbound flight was smooth thanks to the empty middle seat and the In-Flight movie When In Rome.  I found it to be a decent enough chick flick but I gave it another star when Pedro Sanchez made a cameo.  But more importantly, how awesome is an empty middle seat?
• I made it to The Rio an hour after landing.  Hmmm, I think I might have set a record time and it even included a stop at In N Out Burger.  We don’t have In N Out Burger in Texas…but we do have Smash Burger.  I don’t eat burgers often but tradition is tradition and In N Out is a must.
• While waiting to check in…I read Pauly’s hooker post and change100′s tweet “I don’t care how thin you are; micro-mini skirts after 40 are just wrong.”
• As always, I managed to get a room at the very end of the hallway… without asking.
• After settling in my room, I went to the gift shop and was reminded I wouldn’t be seeing any Vitamin Water ( Coca-Cola product) and bought a vitamin C SoBe instead.  However, I did see a woman wearing a micro-mini.  The odds of this woman getting to know her date were good, the odds she was under 40 were even better; However, the odds she saw me taking a picture of the display directly behind her were outstanding.
• I had good intentions for an early retire but…I was lured into the world of emails, texts and tweets by my iPhone.  By the way, when you sit around in a Las Vegas hotel room either writing or technologically socializing it pretty much feels like you never left home.

Monday:

• I received my complimentary 5:30 am hotel room door slamming wake-up from those incapable of closing doors quietly.  There are worse morning wake-up noises… there’s the construction jackhammer, the beeping dump truck in reverse and the occasional fighting couple.
• Around nine, I headed over to do the WSOP Academy shoot for ten plus hours.  It was a long day but a lot of fun meeting new people and chatting with old friends.  Here’s a preview of what I look like on-camera.
• I went back to the hotel to meet up with Jen Newell and Al Can’t Hang (Danerati didn’t show due to his wait-tainer audition. Keep reading for wait-tainer meaning).  Coincidentally, as we made our WSOP predictions… our voices sort of died out.  It wasn’t our fault… we were distracted by the male waiter who had replaced his tray with a microphone.  Yet, just when I thought I could get back to Jen’s story,  she looked as if she had been muted.  I could see her lips moving but I could only hear Ricky Martin and I found myself thinking she needed to work on her lip syncing skills.  Then I thought… wow, I bet this is what it’s like for most men when I’m ADDing out on one of my stupid stories that I’ve probably already told them five times.  I had to stop her and say “Jen, I’m not listening to you right now… I just can’t hear anything you’re saying while that waiter is singing Ricky Martin and dancing on top of the slot machine.”  That’s when Al said “Oh, that’s a wait-tainer.”  Thank you, Al for the dancing wait-tainer label.  Go ahead and add that to Urban Dictionary.
• After we bid farewell, I noticed I had missed several phone calls and emails.  But, that’s life when you’re out at a wait-tain show.  So, I spent another hour in an electronic conversation with Benjo and Dan.

Tuesday:

• After four hours of sleep, I received an official wake-up call from Penn & Teller.  I don’t know what they said because I wasn’t in the mood to listen to a loud man tell me what to do.  Unlike the other times of day when I actually do like listening to a loud man tell me what to do.
• I discovered the hard way that The Rio finally moved the cab line to the front of the hotel. This was a bit humiliating because when I backtracked to the taxi line… the couple I had impatiently passed earlier was smiling at me as they drove off in their cab.
• But that’s OK… I ended up with the best cab driver in all of Las Vegas.  He dropped me at Continental in less than ten minutes.
• The airport security line was short so I didn’t have to watch the video.
• I paid $6 to watch Invictus but it wasn’t an option and I had already seen the three movies available (one on the outbound flight).  When I swiped my card to pay, the Europeans next to me, rolled their eyes and pulled out their books.  In my mind… I rolled my eyes back at them and pondered the small minded assumptions they might have had of me.  Not that it mattered… but I do find it amusing that all Americans are loud, eat only fast-food and rarely read.  Hmmm, should I post that… ah, fuck it.  IT after fuck intended. Oops, I’m sounding bitter.  Pardon me for being naughty.

Unfortunately, I was unable to hit the Nanette Lepore store, find a snow globe for my daughter, see any Chippendale Dancers and I still haven’t figured out what the beefy Italian guy with the shaved head at the Rio is advertising.  But one thing is certain, I love my poker friends and I’m running good on cab drivers.