From: Keith
Date: Wed, 17 Jan 2007 01:19:02 -0600
Subject: [ESCARGOT] ESCARGOT 07 --Prequel

Fly into LAX on Weds. without misadventure, wander out of the  
Southwest terminal, and stand on the sidewalk as agreed upon with the  
famous PacPalBuzz. I've never met Buzz, but have corresponded with  
him for years, and he has graciously agreed to pick this virgin  
ESCARGOTer up at LAX. I'm wearing my bright yellow shirt so I'll be  
easy to spot, and am scanning the traffic parade for Buzz's car when  
the guy behind me starts conversing on the virtues of airport baggage  
carts. I turn around and spy his ESCARGOT cap and know that I am in  
the presence of Buzz himself. We shake hands and are off for a tour  
of SoCal poker rooms.

First stop, Hollywood Park. As we wait at the light by the turn-in, a  
guy crosses the street in front of us. He's wearing a a poker shirt,  
but has the Racing Form tucked under his arm. We speculate whether he  
is a horse player or poker player, but there's no action. I like HP.  
I have to admit that I like most gambling joints, but I like having  
the track right there. I'm not a big horse bettor, but I love  
watching them run: I 'm happy to stand at the finish line with a ten  
dollar bill in my hand betting odd or even. The races aren't in  
session, so I avoid trouble and we're off to Hawaiian Gardens.

At HG we walk through room after room of card tables. It Weds  
afternoon, about 2 PM, and most of the tables are full. I can't  
imagine what it's like on a weekend. We wander around for a while and  
then head for Gardena.

Next stop, the Normandy. I think I may have played in the Normandy  
when I was stationed at Pendleton during the 60s. If I did, I don't  
recognize it. I walk in expecting to be met with a cloud of cigarette  
smoke. Instead, I can actually see across the entire length of the  
room. The poker tables are oblong hold em types, with brand new cloth  
on the tops. Nobody is playing on them, so it is off to the Hustler.

I'm really looking forward to the Hustler. I can barely wait to see  
the over-endowed cocktail waitresses bursting out of their  skimpy  
dresses. I am severely disappointed.

Buzz and I  check out the art work on the walls and don't much care  
for it, but I do like the carpeting.  The Brush asks me to play. I  
tell her I'll play their biggest game if I can find a stake horse,  
but that project seems unpromising and we head to the Commerce.

The Commerce is still the Commerce, so it's off to the Bike, but  
first a brief stop to check into the, ta-da, Ramada Limited. At  
first, the Ramada disappoints me. No working girls in the parking  
lot; nobody tries to sell me crack. I had reserved a non-smoking room  
(no, a suite!), and had set the over/under on the number of ashtrays  
it would have at three. Not only are there no ashtrays in the room,  
but there is a sign on the door that says "No Smoking." This is the  
first time I have reserved a non-smoking room in connection with a  
gambling activity, and have received one on the first try! I  
immediately fall in love with the Ramada Limited, and make a note to  
enquire about their yearly rates.

It's now the moment we've all been waiting for: Our trip to the  
Bike's Welcome Center for our backstage pass, our food comps and our  
s00per seekrit gift! Buzz leads the way.

Me: "Is this the Welcome Center?"
WC:  "Let me guess. You're here for ESCARGOT, right?"
Me: "Uh......yeah."
WC: "We don't have your stuff yet. Go play some poker, and come back  
tomorrow."

I've come a long way for my meal comps and my s00per seekrit gift,  
and now they're not here. Am I being played? Is this ESCARGOT  
business an elaborate con set up by the airlines and Ramada Ltd. to  
pump up business? I'm a little worried, but Buzz seems confident, so  
we go into the poker room to see what's shaking.

The first thing Buzz does is introduce me to Marc Gilutin. I am glad  
to meet Marc, but after shaking hands I glance at the table plaque  
and see that he is at table 31. Anybody with an internet connection  
knows that Marc is the Occupant, but not of table 31. This seems  
strange. I wonder if this is somehow connected to the Southwest  
Airlines-Ramada Ltd.-Wellcome Center conspiracy. I'm trying to work  
up a healthy sense of paranoia, but when Marc points out an empty  
seat, I decide to overlook the whole thing and sit in.

IT's 6-12 O8 with a full kill played with $2 chips. I buy a rack and  
come in on my BB. It's raised, a couple of callers, I look down and  
see a playable hand, say 'call' and reach for a stack of my chips.  
The chips at the Bike are slippery critters. I've been playing poker  
for 50 years. Grabbing a stack and producing three chips from the  
bottom of it is, for me, normally the work of an instant. But, as I  
was saying, I said call and all of a sudden chips are flying  
everywhere. I'm splashing the pot, splashing the dealer's tray, the  
floor, you name it. I round them up, cut off seven, cut off one,  
finally round up three renegades and nudge them forward, and we're  
good to see the flop in a mere five minutes. I am informed that these  
are "speed chips." I would love to know how they got their name.

The game is good, but I'm not catching much. I cash out up $30 and  
decide it's nap time. I had that stomach flu that was making the  
rounds a couple of weeks previously, and was starting to feel a  
little woozy. I don't want to go through that again! I head back to  
my hotel room an lie down at 6 PM. I sleep until noon the next day,  
but when I wake up I'm feeling better and I'm good to go.