Once again, I get an early jump on the day. After showering, I skip breakfast and head straight for the games.

Stop #9: $3/$6 FL (Mirage)

Nothing else is going yet, so I put my name on the $10/$20 list and buy-in for $150. Half the room is roped off for an invitational tournament that morning, so I'm not too confident anything will be starting any time soon. My single big hand was picking up AA in the BB, with a raise UTG and a call from the SB. I merely call to stay under the radar. The flop is J-high, the SB checks and I bet. The UTG raiser folds, SB raises and I call. He leads the brick turn, and I raise. He calls, check-calls the river with his KK, and I take a nice-sized pot.

Shortly thereafter, they announce "Attention players: world champion Jamie Gold is in the room." We all turn around and let out a collective "HEEEEY!" which brings him over to shake hands with all of us. He came across as a much nicer guy than anything I'd seen from him during the main event or the subsequent unpleasantness involving his deal to chop the winnings. So he gets a pass from me. I'm sure he feels better about that already.

I pick up another AA and win a smallish pot just in time for the $10/$20 game to get started. I rack up, head to the window to turn my blue into red, and prepare for the longest single session of the weekend.

Trip Tally: approx. -$1160

Stop #10: $10/$20 FL (Mirage)

I sit down with my rack of red, in the game which has been my staple since I've been playing in Vegas. Unlike Thursday, I recognize no one in this game but I do my best to make friends and loosen them up early. Half the table are retired locals with the remainder obvious tourist types. Exactly the kind of table where I usually do very well.

As I was leaving the $3/$6 game, a couple people made comments about "leaving to play with the celebrities." I muttered something about not seeing anyone famous over there, but I soon realized what they were talking about. I look across the table and do a double-take when I finally recognize Brad Garrett sitting in the 9 seat. He and Ray Romano were doing a show that weekend at the hotel, and I suppose he was squeezing in some fun while he could. A nice guy, and one of those naturally funny people that can make all of my hack attempts at comedy pale in comparison to a single one-liner as he's leaving the table:

Dealer: "Where are you going?"
Brad: "Your house, to tidy up a bit."

The game was on the weak-tight side to start, so I LAGged it up quite a bit. I found myself raising quite frequently with some marginal holdings, and taking down a lot of pots without much resistance. I showed a few of the sicker bluffs to try to get some money flowing. It seemed to work pretty well, and I was able to make a lot more from my legitimate hands than I normally would.

About two hours into the session, I notice the older woman in the 5 seat has a very heavy, very shiny bracelet adorning her right wrist. I look a little more closely and I can read, "2006 WSOP" on the large, 24K gold faceplate.

"Is that what I think it is?"

She nods.

Turns out her name is Clare Miller and she was the first woman to win the WSOP Senior NL event, cashing for a little over a quarter million. I have to admit I hadn't paid much attention to her so far, but I was a little less eager to get involved with her without a hand after that. I became fast friends with two others: Mike, a retired local sitting to my immediate right; and Bob on my immediate left, visiting on business, who was working in the Pentagon on the morning of 9/11.

I continue to mix up my game very effectively, and start to amass a decent stack. Bob and I trade cracked aces in heads-up pots, and I take a break to tap a kidney and call Dave. He's still unsure of his plans, so we tentatively decide to meet at the Venetian later in the day.

I get back to the table, having missed my blinds, and I'm waiting for the BB to reach me. Mike commented that I seemed to raise from UTG a lot, and he might actually get to see a free flop for once. "Well," I said, "I simply can't let that stand." So, I wait till I'm under the gun, and then post blind and deaf. I get something awful like Q4o and raise my option. It folds around to Mike who calls. The flop comes A33, he checks and I fire out. He says, "There's no way I can't put you on a 3 here," and folds. I show my rags and we have a good chuckle about it.

An interesting sidebar: you get a very different reaction from a table when you're perceived to be a loose cannon and winning, as opposed to chasing your losses. In fairness, I rarely overplayed a hand where I didn't have at least a decent draw, but that little shift in image between someone who's up and someone's who's stuck is palpable.

Later in the session, I raise with 88 and get called by an older gentleman in LP. Flop is all unders, I bet and get raised. I call. Turn is a 9, giving me a gutshot. I check, and follow up with a terrible call to his turn bet. The river is my miracle 7, and I check-raise to take the pot with my straight. I was kinda disgusted with my play, and tossed a $5 rebate to him at the other end of the table.

"Sorry, that was absolutely ridiculous. I had no business seeing another card."

I don't think I would've done that in another game that wasn't as friendly as this one. Fortunately, he accepted it in the good-natured manner in which it was intended.

Mid-afternoon, one of the regulars that I'd spotted on Thursday takes a seat. Jim is a sound player, plays a lot of hands and knows how to apply enough pressure to make you uncomfortable a lot of the time. I give a little heads-up to Bob to this effect, and get ready to mix it up with him. It seems we always do a couple times each trip.

I raise in EP with , Jim calls as does the button. I continue on the small flop (one spade), Jim raises and the button folds. I call. Turn is a second spade. I check, he checks behind. River brings my flush, I check-raise and show my nuts. He mucks his hand. Not sure what he had there, perhaps a medium pair. He wasn't running too good that day, and I outlasted him at the table.

The day drags on, and I'm up a little over $1000 for the session. Clare and Bob have moved on to other things, and someone at the table asks for my seat. I agree, moving one seat to my left. I raise KQo UTG and get 3-bet from a very very tight player on my left. I call. Flop comes AJ6. I check and he bets. I have absolutely zero doubt that he has a set of aces, but with 8 small bets in the pot I decide to fish for a T. I'm almost 100% certain I can make up the difference on the later streets. Turn brings my T. YAHTZEE! I check-raise him on the turn. The river pairs the J, I check and make a crying call to his boat.

Live by it, drown by it.

Right about this time another regular, Beth, buys in. I first met Beth during my last trip in December. She's a fairly aggressive player who turns into a bit of a calling station on later streets. I had forgotten this piece of information until it was too late.

I get 99 in MP and raise, Beth calls, the rest muck. Flop comes Jxx. I bet, she raises, I call. Turn is a K. I check, she bets, I raise and she calls. I lead the brick river, and she almost beats me into the pot with her AJ.

Oh yeah, I remember now.

Later still, I get AK in the CO and raise it up. Beth calls from the BB. Flop comes AT4. She bets out, I raise and she 3-bets. I stubbornly call the turn and river bets, losing to her A4.

Having lost a third of my profit in a short period, I figured I'd better move on and clear my head. It was still a very successful outing. I cash out, head to the room for a shower and then off to the Venetian to meet up with Dave.

Trip Tally: approx. -$500

I wash off the $10/$20 stink, get a quick change of clothes and walk over to the Venetian's room. They're running a promotion through June where the $8/$16 and $15/$30 games are only raked $1. Mmmmmmm, yummy. They're calling a new $15/$30 game just as I walk in the door, so I lock up a seat and find Dave. He's sitting, all by himself, at a table that previously held a broken $8/$16. He tries to get me to sit for some heads-up action, but I'm still stuck and running out of time to get even.

Stop #11: $15/$30 FL (Venetian)

Apparently, Dave's game broke because everyone jumped over to this game. I buy in for $800 and realize very quickly that my tactics earlier in the day aren't going to play here, because my wit and charm isn't going to get me a lot against the younger, local guys.

The one saving grace in the game is the woman in the one seat. She was a poker player's wet dream, calling any number of bets on any street with any two cards. She burned through at least $2000-$2500 in the time I was sitting there.

All-in-all, a very swingy session. I was up as much as $500 at one point, down $600 at another. One memorable hand finds me limping with early, a raise late and callers all the way around. The flop comes with two spades, and the betting is capped 5-handed. I whiff the turn, only having to call a single bet. The river is a blank too, and I fold unimproved in an enormous pot.

I check in with Dave from time to time sitting at $4/$8. His stack doesn't seem to be getting any bigger, but has a couple more $100 bills behind his chips each time I visit.

Later, I raise with 77, get 3-bet behind and the calling station throws in her last $60 to 4-bet. I comment to the 3-bettor, "I'll save you the trouble," and cap it at 5. He calls the last $30. Flop comes QT7. I check-raise the flop, lead the turn and he folds. The river doesn't help the dejected woman, who finally decides she's had enough. Of course, I get showered with little insults:

"See what you did?"
"Oh great, you just killed the game."
"Thanks for ruining it for everyone."

Unfortunately, it seems they were right. The game jumped up a notch in aggressiveness, and I was getting little with which I could play back. We get down to 5-handed, and I make a hasty exit with a fair profit.

Trip Tally: approx. -$230

After a smoke and a trip to the restroom, I come back to find Dave still crushing the game, and an open seat to his left.

"Checks please!"

Stop #12: $4/$8 FL (Venetian)

I sit with $200, and it only takes a few hands before we butt heads. I raise with , a few callers and Dave calls from the BB. Flop comes QQx, two diamonds. Dave bets, I raise, everyone folds and Dave makes it 3. I call in order to make my theatrical exit on the turn. The falls, Dave leads and I hem and haw about how he just caught me, etc. etc. I fold and he flashes his Q. I really wanted to show my hand, but it occurred to me that with all our banter when I first sat down, my raising the flop with absolute air might give the impression that we were working together.

Dave: 1, Me: 0

QQ in EP, UTG limps, I raise and a couple callers back to UTG who 3-bets. Ugh. I make it 4, and it folds around to him again. He caps. Flop is JTx. He leads, I raise, he 3-bets, I call. Turn is a K, giving me a draw. He bets, I raise and he just calls. River is a blank and we check it down. I show my queens and he mucks. No clue what he could've had there. AJ perhaps.

on the button. Everyone limps, so I raise for good measure. Everyone calls. Flop comes all hearts. One bettor before it reaches me, I raise. Almost everyone calls. Non-heart turn, I bet, almost everyone calls. Non-heart river, I bet, almost everyone calls. The dealer had to push it to me in parts.

I had been pretty good about avoiding the booze while playing, but I was in a relaxed mood and feeling good about my upswing. I figured a Guinness couldn't hurt.

Enter Tiffany.

Now I know that cocktail waitresses try to be as friendly and engaging as possible, but this tall, athletic blonde was completely over the top. One of the dealers in the $15/$30 game gave us a little background:

"You see how she is? She's like that literally 24/7. I swear to god, two days after I started here I wanted to punch her in the face."

I had one more beer later in the evening, and then tipped her randomly once for no other reason than to watch her get all wound up.

"Wow, that's so cool! Thanks! You're awesome! Thank you!"

A guy to my left says, "You really are awesome. I wanted to say it earlier, but I needed someone else to break the ice first."

I win a couple more pots, I bluff Dave out of one (Dave:1, Me:1) and finally blow out of there at 4am. A satisfactory ending to a 19-hour bender.

Trip Tally: approx. -$110

Dave and I walked back towards our respective hotels, parting company outside the Mirage. I didn't expect to see him the next day since I was leaving just after noon, so we shook hands and I stumbled to my room to grab a couple hours sleep before checking out that morning.

In our next episode...
One last stab at profitability, prop bets with senior citizens and the flight from hell.