The WSOP Diaries: Week 1 - Losing My Vegas V-Plates

For the last few days, I’ve been trying to put my thoughts into words for this blog in an attempt to tell you about my first week here in Las Vegas. It’s been a struggle, to say the least.

In fact, one could say that coming here for the first time is a lot like losing your virginity: awkward, painful and humiliating – and at times you often question yourself as to why you’ve even put yourself here.

Every day, my head is aching from the million-and-one thoughts running through my brain. My body feels like it’s about to float away and my skin constantly tingles. My palms are sweaty from nerves, my lips are chapped from the heat and my mouth is always dry from the air conditioning in our apartment. I always feel like I’m dehydrated, even after gulping down gallons of bottled water.

I’ve put it down to a mixture of jet lag, alcohol, writer’s block and homesickness – especially homesickness. Seeing my fiancé burst into tears on the morning of my departure from Tullamarine Airport was heart-breaking, as we’ve never been apart for this long.

She understands that this has been the ultimate dream since I started working in this industry seven years ago and although I am indeed living that dream now, the last thought in my head every night as I’m about to go to sleep is that I’ll be waking up the next morning, back in my bed at home, next to her once again.

Even as I’m sitting out on the balcony having a smoke, I have to close my eyes tightly, open them and take another look at the view. From left to right I see the Flamingo, the Imperial Palace, Harrah’s, the Wynn and the Stratosphere casinos. The desert haze causes the buildings to fade slightly, making the buildings appear as if they were in a painted backdrop on a movie set. It just doesn’t seem real.

Incredible: the view from our balcony at dusk

Yet, here I am, alone, smack-bang in the middle of the Nevada Desert, living in God’s playground. And tomorrow, I launch myself head-first into the madness that is the World Series of Poker (WSOP). That’s not to say that I haven’t had my fair share of adventure in Sin City already.

Even the flight from Melbourne on Saturday morning was an experience in itself. Upon arriving at the airport at 3am, I was expecting to see the terminal buzzing with life. Instead, it was as empty and lifeless as a graveyard and my stomach churned as I waited in the departure lounge. Without all the hustle and bustle and the organised chaos around me, it just didn’t feel right. As soon as the announcement came over the PA, I rushed to the front of the queue to board the plane as quickly as possible to rid myself of that deafening silence.

Mind you, after more than 20 hours crammed in cattle class, I wanted nothing more to do with flying and was relieved to finally arrive at The Meridian, my home for the next two months. We’re located a couple of miles south of the Rio, on the corner of Koval and Flamingo – which is right near where Tupac was shot. I’ve also been told that 11-time WSOP bracelet winner Phil Hellmuth puts his parents up here every year.

Home sweet home, indeed: the main pool and clubhouse at The Meridian

The Meridian looks more like a resort, with two swimming pools (both with outdoor spas and gas BBQs and cabanas poolside), a fully-equipped gym, clubhouse, concierge (who is never around when I need them) and squash and racquetball courts. Luckily I had done my research on this place and packed my racquet – who knows, perhaps I could be Las Vegas’ first-ever squash-playing hustler in history?

But on that first day, peeling myself out of the clothes I had been wearing for the last God-knows-how-many-hours, I discovered to my horror that the showers didn’t work. At least, that’s what I thought for a couple of days, during which time I was using the swimming pool as a bath – until Harley (AKA ‘Canadoft’, who is also reporting at the WSOP for the first time this year) pointed out that you had to twist and pull out the tap simultaneously to turn it on.

I’m almost certain I could taste those sweet tears of joy (or was that caked-on sweat?) through the water during that first shower.

My flatmate this year is Chris, AKA ‘Homer’. He’s a British poker blogger extraordinaire and we’ve worked together before at the Aussie Millions a couple of years ago. From memory, this is his third trip to the WSOP and admittedly, I’ve been annoying him with questions about everything, but he’s helped me through a lot over the last few days and we get along just fine.

And during the course of the next few days, there was plenty more that I learned about this town, which I strongly recommend that you should take note of, in case you’re planning to come over here next year:

Firstly – always tip. Tip taxi drivers, tip waiters and waitresses and tip dealers. It’s expected that you do so, even if the service is crappy. Fortunately, I haven’t had a bad experience – yet – and have had no inclination to refuse to tip. Just be prepared to cop a mouthful if you don’t.

You can’t hail a taxi off the street in Las Vegas. Instead, you either have to book one over the phone or walk to the nearest casino taxi rank and get one from there, so make sure you always have cash on hand for fares.

Speaking of walking, be prepared to walk a long way and walk often. Everything about this city (and America in general) is big. Even a trip to the corner store takes about 15 minutes and to walk to a department store can take more than half an hour. Now I understand why so many people use those electric scooters.

It’s really easy to get lost. Even with directions from Google Maps, I somehow managed to walk for over an hour all the way down the wrong street in order to get to Target the other day, before giving up and catching a cab there from the MGM Grand. It doesn’t help that Americans drive on the wrong side of the road, so that messes with your head even more.

At least shopping here in the US is really cheap. I don’t know of any other place in the world where you can get a slab of bottled water for $3.49, or pick up a weeks’ worth of microwave dinners for a little over $2 each. Even purchasing a prepaid cell phone is a breeze. I only paid $141 for a $60-a-month unlimited talk, text and internet plan (and that included the handset). The salesman even activated the phone at the store, set it up and showed me how to use it – now that is customer service!

But whatever you do, don’t attempt to push your shopping trolley out of the car park. As I was walking up to the street from Target, phone in one hand (on hold to the cab company in order to make a booking) and pushing the trolley with the other, I didn’t realise that there was a security mechanism that causes the wheels of the trolley to lock up after it reaches a certain distance from the store.

I heaved, pulled, pushed, sweated and flailed about helplessly in the middle of the car park for over five minutes, trying to get back to the main entrance before an empty cab passed by. Out of sheer desperation, I hailed the driver – and fortunately for me, he did stop!

He even helped me load the groceries into the cab and then into the trolley when I got back to the Meridian so I could take them up the elevator to our apartment. I’m just glad that there are still some Good Samaritans out there in this world and I couldn’t thank him enough – the least I could do was pay him double the fare.

Finally, I have learned that the media’s hangout of choice is the Gold Coast Casino. It’s not the most glamorous place in the world (to put it lightly) and the entire place reeks of carpet freshener mixed with stale booze and cigarettes, but it’s got a certain charm to it that you can’t resist and you’re always in good company. It’s also got a 70-lane bowling alley (which costs only $1 per game after midnight) and $10 Pai Gow Poker, which is probably the most fun you can ever have grinding away $100 over several hours, all so you can drown yourself in free cocktails.

All this in one week – and the scary part is that I haven’t even officially started working yet. As the legendary Dr. Pauly said to me on the first night, “Get used to it. We’re going to be doing this every fucking night for the next seven weeks.”

It’s going to be a long two months for this Vegas virgin.