Grubby at PokerWorks

I’m back from a grueling nonstop, nonsleep 9 days in Las Vegas, which is 5 days too long but somewhat forgiveable because with a friend in the first half and family in the second half, it became similar to two back-to-back Vegas trips. I know just in flight fare ($450) it seemed like two trips.

I’ll write more later but wanted to share two photos from O’Sheas, which has been spruced up inside to not look and smell so dumpy and now contains a poker room (spreading no-limit and limit 1-5) and poker tournaments.

O’Sheas has hired a little person to be a running barker with megaphone, advertising the casino and their $1 bottled beer. He does a pretty good job at keeping up interest and sounds like a regular professional voiceover guy and my mouth watered at the only cold bottled beer on the Strip for a buck.

A bit unfortunate they make him wear a leprechaun outfit.

grubette and I both played and lost $100 at blackjack, where all tables paid 6:5 blackjack instead of 3:2. This is a trend that’s becoming increasingly prevalent at Harrah’s properties, and not just for single deck.

When asking the pitboss about it, she said that O’Sheas is a break-in room for dealers and 6:5 is easier for dealers to calculate than 3:2.

I lost all respect for O’Sheas after that bullshit spin on corporate greed. Other break-in rooms around town still deal 3:2. I don’t think it’s any more difficult to figure out 1 1/2 times a bet. And even if it were, why should the players have to suffer?

Everyone really needs to band together and avoid 6:5 blackjack completely, but unfortunately, they all seem headed that way and there are always people interested in playing blackjack. Heck, in a slot stupor at Excalibur, I played video blackjack where you can’t double-down, you can’t split Aces or any pair, you can’t take insurance, and blackjacks pay 1:1. There’s still more tinkering they can do to worsen our advantage on the game.

O’Sheas has a Cabo machine, and grubette had a green waborita, while Doug and I had a shot of Cabo in Cabo shot glasses. The lime was good, but the salt tasted funny.

Walking around the bartop was the same leprechaun with a whistle in his mouth.Â

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He’d whistle and point to someone, who’d approach the bar, open their mouth, and receive a generous pouring of hard liquor.

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It’s sexier when he pours into a girl’s mouth.

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This entry was posted on Monday, April 9th, 2007 at 12:19 am and is filed under Uncategorized.