My WSOP experience; controversy with Mimi Tran

[NUTZ IN YA MOUTH]

After a legendary night of $5/10 NL at the Venetian, a poker confidante and a few White Russians had convinced me to enter a $1500 WSOP event. The atmosphere was great, the drinks were flowing, and I was surrounded by amicable donks. I was playing great, and had one of the larger stacks in the room. However, one infamous hand would change all that.

I picked up AQ of hearts in mid-position and raised it up. It folded around to Mimi Tran on the button, who called, as did the big blind. Flop was a black Queen, with the ten and four of hearts. The big blind checked to me, and I bet it. Mimi raised, the big blind folded, and I called. The turn gave me the nut flush. I checked, Mimi pondered for a moment and followed suit. The river was whatever the [censored] it was, I still had the nuts though. Firing a big bet into the pot (about half my stack was in there), Mimi looked at her cards, took a sip of her beverage, and quietly murmored “Arrrrrreen.” Barely able to contain myself, I flipped over my hand, screamed “I call. NUTS!” and started grabbing at the chips in the center of the table.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute, what you doing?” Mimi asked, a frown coming across her makeup covered mug.
“Uh, I have you covered, pumpkin [censored],” I told her. “Ship the f**king sherbert.”
“I don’t get act?” she asked, confused.
“You did act. You said all in, I showed you the stone nuts, and now you’re going to give me your [censored] chips,” I shot back, growing angry.
“Wait minute, I no say arr een, I say Arleen!” she hissed, pointing at our surly dealer’s nametag: “ARLENE” it read.
“Oh, this is [censored] bogus!” I yelled, taking a big slug of the double Hurricane a scantily clad waitress had just dropped off at the table, “FLOOR!”

A floor man came over, and after myself and Mimi explained the situation, he sided with her version of the story and said she could now act after my river bet. Laughing, she said “I guess I fold.”

“That’s real [censored] cute,” I snarled at her, now so angry that I was beginning to spit all over the table. “You’re a real c**t, you know that?”
“Just a minute!” the floor man exclaimed. “You can’t talk like that! Come with me, that’s a twenty minute penalty.”

The floor man led me by the arm outside of the room, where I smoked about a dozen Newports before storming back to the table. Without even looking at the first hand dealt to me, I went all in. Nobody called, so I did it again next hand. And everyone folded. Finally, a third time, I was called by a man holding KK, who’s hand beat whatever trash I was holding. With my stack decimated, I pushed again and was eliminated on the next hand. The floor was watching me intently at this point, as I planned to exit from the table.

“Guess that’s all for me,” I said matter-of factly, stumbling around a bit from the 151 shots I’d downed earlier in the morning.

I flipped over the table, dumping drinks and chips all over the floor. I then reached for Mimi Tran’s glasses and stomped on them. Before I could knock her [censored] teeth out, three security guards had taken me to the floor and were putting me in cuffs and hauled me off to jail.

I was booked, questioned, and bailed myself out soon thereafter. Overall, I’m pretty happy the way things panned out, despite the fact that I was going to use that bail money to buy into another event, and the court date will cut into my grinding at the tables.