"Are you one of them dealers on the World Poker Tour?" one of the guys shouted at me as locked up my front door to go to work yesterday.
He lazily stood in the middle of a gaggle of disheveled rednecks and spoke with a slight drawl. He noticed that Flip Chip and I were wearing all black and had badges dangling around our necks. It was a valid question. We looked like we could have been dealers. We wear black clothing during all final table events that are taped on TV as per requests of the production crew. I was impressed with my neighbor's keen observation skills.
Note to self: Never underestimate the intelligence of people with less than nine teeth.
Ah, who the hell am I kidding? He's a shirtless inbred nitwit who drinks Mike's Hard Lemonade for breakfast. His beer gut hung over his waistband by three and a half inches and he happily sported a tattoo that read "Fuck Osamma" on his left arm. I wanted to point out the spelling error but I was in a rush. I wondered if in a dark cave somewhere in Western Pakistan, there was an Al Qaeda fighter who had a tattoo that read "Fuck Billy Boob!"
Yesterday was an insane day where I found myself covering three different tournaments and two final tables. I was up until 7am writing different recaps and articles. Flip Chip shot 1Gbs worth of photos for the 2005 WSOP Photo Gallery. I also had to get up by noon to tape an interview with Sean for the Lord Admiral Card Club poker podcast. I'm swamped with work and I seriously need an intern.
Moving on... back to the Rio.
I consider the poker room at the Rio "my office." In my life I have worked in some pretty historic places and I can add the Rio to that list. For my first job on Wall Street, I worked on the trading floor of the New York Commodities Exchange, which used to be located on the 8th floor of the World Trade Center. I also worked at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. talk how two famous institutions. Alas, both jobs seemed like lifetimes ago. Today, my day job is at the Rio along with hundreds and thousands of seasoned professionals who are all gunning for a shot at a WSOP bracelet.
I wish I was in their seats flinging chips around instead of being the monkey on the laptop in the corner writing about bad beats and chip counts. I can't. I'm not a strong enough player and I have to work. But hey, I can't complain. I'm getting paid the big bucks to write everyday and blog live from the floor of the Rio plus I get free accommodations at the lovely Red Neck Riviera.