Sorry I couldn't bring it home for you guys.
I went out of the Ladies' Event after only an hour an a half. Certainly not what I expected. I drove out to Commerce in a great mood, feeling good about my game, and smiling at all the sweet text messages CJ and Pauly had sent me. I bought in and hung out with Ryan on the upstairs terrace soaking in some excellent tournament advice in the afternoon sun.
Only 130 players started. I was expecting at least three times that number. I got a horrible table draw. Four of the ten players were very aggressive, espcecially the woman on my right. It also helped that the deck was hitting her in the face. She showed three sets and two nut flushes in my short time there. I got into one confrontation with her. I had AQ UTG and raised to something like 175 with 25-50 blinds. She called from the BB with A5c. Flop came ace high with two clubs. I bet the pot and she called. Turn the 9c. She bets over half her stack and I lay it down. She shows her nut flush and says "good laydown, honey."
Ryan walked by about 30 seconds after that hand. The growly face I made summed it up.
A raise with 88 in EP gets me the blinds. I lay down TT when the flop comes A K X. I raise with 6d6h in MP and a young British girl calls me from the BB. I flop a set of sixes. She checks, I bet half the pot, she calls. Turn gives me an open-ended straight flush draw to go with the set. She checks again, I bet 500, she checkraises me all in. I only have 700 left. Did she make a straight here? Did the 7 on the turn make her a higher set? Whatever, I'm pot committed and I call. If I win this pot I'll outchip the whole table and be well on my way. She turns over QT, one heart. She popped me in with a flush draw? Sweeeet. The river is a nine of hearts, making her flush. Seriously?? OK, I go home now. I'm profoundly disappointed and on mega-tilt, but I can't fault my decision.
I drove home at sunset, the western sky ablaze in streaky pinks and oranges. After some herbal relaxation with Showcase, I decided to drown my sorrows in some raw fish and sake, and we headed out to Sasabune, perhaps the best sushi on the west side.
Imagine my disappointment when we discover that it's closed! Aii ya. We drive up to Santa Monica Blvd. and find another row of sushi joints. We park the car and decide to check out the menus before making a decision. The first place is too crowded, but the second one looks promising. The menu is handwritten in Japanese and various accolades from the LA Times food section hang in the window. I'm checking to see if they take credit cards, when Showcase notices two guys about our age coming out the front door. As they pass by he asks "Hey! Is the food good here?" Neither of them reply.
So Showcase calls out again, this time, making eye contact with the taller of the two gentlemen. "So is the food better here than the other places on this block?"
It's then that Showcase notices the two huge hearing aids both men are wearing. One pipes up in slow, halting speech that the sushi is fresh and there's a fantastic sake selection before continuing down the road. Showcase's face reddened and he slinked back over to me.
"Oh my God. Those guys were deaf."
"And I kept asking them questions!"
"But we should eat here, right?"
"Can't. They don't take American Express."
We found another place down the street. $150 of raw fish later, I was finally off tilt.