[ACHTUNG! The following may be a little too detailed for some people's attention span. Please be advised.]
This supposed holiday weekend isn't really that extended for me since I spent all of Saturday covering the poker tournament CF Tagaytay organized. I honestly couldn't care less about poker--or any other card games for that matter--which is precisely why I volunteered for the assignment. I figured that since this is, primarily, what gives me work then I might as well embrace it. (Well, maybe just shake hands with it for now.) Besides, you can't let all the free food go to waste and the hotel accommodations don't hurt either...eventhough I probably didn't need it since my house was only half an hour away.
We pulled up the lobby at around 9:30 AM and went inside to meet up with folks from Marketing--all of whom, with the exception of the guy in barong, were in black suits. Mike, our tech, introduced me to them as "our new writer". (I swear, it's still a bit surreal whenever I hear that. You can say I'm overreacting but, sometimes, I feel like the title invites a lot of unreasonable expectations that I'd rather be discreet about what I do. But that's just me. Writers are really as workaday as jeepneys to most people.)
This being only my second time in a casino, I decided to tour the gaming area and observe what went on while the tech guy unloaded and set up our equipment. Maybe it's my naivete talking but I found it interesting how there were already quite a number of people at the slot machines that early in the day. Then I wondered if it were more like a "still there" situation. Not unlikely. Now, I know Hollywood's casinos depict scenes of seedy characters in leather suits and organized crime, and they may very well be true, but what I beheld was more like a sedentary Glico's for grown-ups. It was kind of disappointing.
Mr. Lanieza, the barong man (because he was the only guy wearing one; suits and ties for the other bigwhigs), saw me wandering aimlessly so he invited me into their office and offered me coffee from Figaro. I told him I didn't drink coffee so he asked the barista to bring in iced tea. I'm glad he wasn't nosey about why I don't drink the dark liquid because I have about a hundred reasons for him. Inside their office, he had to clear some space for me to sit as everything was crammed all over. He even turned on the TV for me! God bless him for knowing the perfect focal point. But then it was on the Kanguso channel. *smirk* Oh well, they were in Rome, my NEW favorite city, so it wasn't all ho-hum.
When Mike was done setting up, we decided to head on out and see the hotel room they booked for us. Yes, just one room! For three people...two roughnecks and me, the greenhorn. That's life in the trenches for ya. I just resigned myself to fate, realizing that my premise was now going to be Mike's stomping ground. That goober! He reminds me of Jimmy Santos intoxicated. On the way to Tagaytay, he would have these excited spasms and point out for Anthony, our driver, the pedestrians on the side of the road and declare how huge the points you would get if you hit them. He would say, "O, yun may kasamang bata! O, 'to mag-syota. Pare, laking points nyan 'pag binangga mo!! Ahu-hu-hu!!" I hoped he was talking about GTA, the game.
The hotel room was okay even if it only had the barest of necessities. If I were to be billeted there for days then, of course, their provisions would be gravely inept. There were the usual amenities: cable tv, a/c, table & chairs, and a built-in cabinet. Big up to them for having two separate bathrooms in the room as well.
We went back to the casino for lunch. I followed Mike and Anthony up to the employees' lounge where they gave us styros with bistek, fish fillet, arroz valenciana, and buko salad. They had refillable orange juice, too, which was great because I hardly drink softdrinks anymore. These card dealers are a well-fed bunch. "Panalo!" said Jimmy Santos several times.
After grubbing, I returned to the gaming area and, this time, chatted with the registration desk attendants about the turnout; there were quite a few lined up already. These folks were blowing off 20-grand starting bets just like that! And let me tell you, the players were pretty interesting sights. There was "Mr. Energy" Benny G, a garish man in tight black everything. He had stiff gray hair that looked like bunot with a pencil-thin braid extending from the back of his head. No wonder he refused to be seen on camera. Then, there was this Chinese man who seemed fairly normal if not for his brows that shot upward and forward, like check marks above his eyes. He looked exactly like those villains in old 70s Kung Fu movies--all he needed was the moustache and goatee. I thought I'd also mention that David Bunevacz, the half-Romanian former decathlete, was at one of the non-tournament tables. I bet he's one of the regulars.
Still no action was going on so we opted to go back to the hotel and nap. Well, after a couple of hours trying in vain, I decided to forget sleep and watch MTV instead. As expected, nothing was worth watching but I did see the Blighty Pimp My Ride. That white boy host is no Xzibit but he had his own appeal. I could not help noticing how these Brits are so eloquent with English. Yes, I know. Duh, England? But what I mean is they use literary English with informal conversation.
At six we returned to the casino and see if Big Dodie had arrived. We had gotten word that he would be dropping by with Mister Cee-Oh-Oh sometime that evening. He didn't. Mr. Betita, the Branch Manager, told me later that night that although Boss Dodie was just across the hi-way from the casino, at the Taal Vista Hotel, he had other business to attend to and would not make an appearance. Only the COO made it and he brought displaymates with him. Meanwhile, eliminations ended and the players were down from 61 to 30. They were given a meal break so everyone went up to get dinner. Chibugan ulet! It was a buffet of paella, roast chicken, roast pork, fish fillet, creame of asparagus soup, salad, and a few other things I didn't recognize. Just the same, I got what I came for.
I did my rounds once again and caught up with the Marketing boss sitting at an empty table so I asked for an interview for my report. The woman was obviously bushed but told of what she knew nonetheless.
For the next four hours, I watched with dwindling interest as the players anteed up, folded, and what not. Those who were previously eliminated acted like hooligans cheering from the audience. They consumed large quantities of beer, blew mushrooms of smoke, and were just loud as heck. They were busted old JD buses, I kid you not!
The moment came and a winner emerged; a German pro Poker player who flew in just for this tournament. No question about whether or not it was worth the trip. He was moderately happy but tipped a thousand pesos only for some of the casino vendors. I wanted to interview him but he was always surrounded by people. And I was tired and didn't have the patience to ask questions.
After everything settled, we were treated to early morning grub by the Management heads. There were five of us now and we had Chinese noodles and dimsum this time. This was free meal #4 for this trip. Friendly advice to future visitors of CF Tagaytay: DO NOT waste your time dining at Chine. Orders will take atleast half an hour, they will NOT serve you tea unless you complain that you've been sitting there waiting for the dang thing for ten minutes, there's a snooty waiter who will make all kinds of disemboweled looks when he serves your food, they don't know that with condements you have to provide dip containers, they are completely incompetent. I'm sorry to declare that but you had to be there to see how bad they were. I thought Mike was gonna cause a ruckus because he was mouthing off things at the waiter. I decided to keep my negative comments about the service to myself. Did I mention they overcharge atleast threefold and above?
On the drive back to the hotel, the hi-way was dangerously unlit. The only illumination came from those houses on the ridge and a few commercial signs. Fog had engulfed everything around us, so much that you would half expect Jack the Ripper or a White Lady to hurl theirselves on the windshield. I was too tired to get scared. Really.
I didn't sleep too well because I was still in the same clothes that smelled of nicotine. The wake-up call I requested at 7 AM roused me. Of course, I turned the tv on and flipped channels. At 8:30, we decided to get ready for the road. We had complementary (read: measly) breakfast of garlic fried rice and a piece of skinny hotdog. Anthony requested for fried eggs just to make it a full meal.
After picking up what was left of our gear from the casino, we went on our way. We made a side trip to Mahogany Market for beef. The peddlers were all over me once they saw the marked vehicle I got out off. (We had the Revo "Media" one.) I got tired of saying "no" so I just gazed down and ignored them as I walked. They may have lower-priced beef here but everything else was marked way up as high as the city is from sea level. I bought a Pepsi and initially heard "thirteen" so I gave the vendor twenty pesos. She gave me a confused look and said, "Ma'am, thirty po."
We still had 400 pesos on our budget so we bought some KFC for the drive. I didn't feel like eating so I just bought some chicken fillet sandwiches for the folks at home. It's gonna be brain-drain Tuesday when I prepare the liquidation papers--I hate numbers like I hate grease.
Finally, we were in my turf. I asked Anthony to drop me off in front of our house because I didn't feel like walking 200 meters under the sun. They got to see Cavite's back roads and were surprised to see that we still have foliage and creeks with water. Mike saw my mother and told her they were returning me safe and sound...the geezer.
The first thing I did when I got home was bathe followed by much-desired sleep.
P.S. Sorry for the general absence of photos on my blog. My digital camera died early this year and I have yet to replace it but I remain optimistic.
This supposed holiday weekend isn't really that extended for me since I spent all of Saturday covering the poker tournament CF Tagaytay organized. I honestly couldn't care less about poker--or any other card games for that matter--which is precisely why I volunteered for the assignment. I figured that since this is, primarily, what gives me work then I might as well embrace it. (Well, maybe just shake hands with it for now.) Besides, you can't let all the free food go to waste and the hotel accommodations don't hurt either...eventhough I probably didn't need it since my house was only half an hour away.
We pulled up the lobby at around 9:30 AM and went inside to meet up with folks from Marketing--all of whom, with the exception of the guy in barong, were in black suits. Mike, our tech, introduced me to them as "our new writer". (I swear, it's still a bit surreal whenever I hear that. You can say I'm overreacting but, sometimes, I feel like the title invites a lot of unreasonable expectations that I'd rather be discreet about what I do. But that's just me. Writers are really as workaday as jeepneys to most people.)
This being only my second time in a casino, I decided to tour the gaming area and observe what went on while the tech guy unloaded and set up our equipment. Maybe it's my naivete talking but I found it interesting how there were already quite a number of people at the slot machines that early in the day. Then I wondered if it were more like a "still there" situation. Not unlikely. Now, I know Hollywood's casinos depict scenes of seedy characters in leather suits and organized crime, and they may very well be true, but what I beheld was more like a sedentary Glico's for grown-ups. It was kind of disappointing.
Mr. Lanieza, the barong man (because he was the only guy wearing one; suits and ties for the other bigwhigs), saw me wandering aimlessly so he invited me into their office and offered me coffee from Figaro. I told him I didn't drink coffee so he asked the barista to bring in iced tea. I'm glad he wasn't nosey about why I don't drink the dark liquid because I have about a hundred reasons for him. Inside their office, he had to clear some space for me to sit as everything was crammed all over. He even turned on the TV for me! God bless him for knowing the perfect focal point. But then it was on the Kanguso channel. *smirk* Oh well, they were in Rome, my NEW favorite city, so it wasn't all ho-hum.
When Mike was done setting up, we decided to head on out and see the hotel room they booked for us. Yes, just one room! For three people...two roughnecks and me, the greenhorn. That's life in the trenches for ya. I just resigned myself to fate, realizing that my premise was now going to be Mike's stomping ground. That goober! He reminds me of Jimmy Santos intoxicated. On the way to Tagaytay, he would have these excited spasms and point out for Anthony, our driver, the pedestrians on the side of the road and declare how huge the points you would get if you hit them. He would say, "O, yun may kasamang bata! O, 'to mag-syota. Pare, laking points nyan 'pag binangga mo!! Ahu-hu-hu!!" I hoped he was talking about GTA, the game.
The hotel room was okay even if it only had the barest of necessities. If I were to be billeted there for days then, of course, their provisions would be gravely inept. There were the usual amenities: cable tv, a/c, table & chairs, and a built-in cabinet. Big up to them for having two separate bathrooms in the room as well.
We went back to the casino for lunch. I followed Mike and Anthony up to the employees' lounge where they gave us styros with bistek, fish fillet, arroz valenciana, and buko salad. They had refillable orange juice, too, which was great because I hardly drink softdrinks anymore. These card dealers are a well-fed bunch. "Panalo!" said Jimmy Santos several times.
After grubbing, I returned to the gaming area and, this time, chatted with the registration desk attendants about the turnout; there were quite a few lined up already. These folks were blowing off 20-grand starting bets just like that! And let me tell you, the players were pretty interesting sights. There was "Mr. Energy" Benny G, a garish man in tight black everything. He had stiff gray hair that looked like bunot with a pencil-thin braid extending from the back of his head. No wonder he refused to be seen on camera. Then, there was this Chinese man who seemed fairly normal if not for his brows that shot upward and forward, like check marks above his eyes. He looked exactly like those villains in old 70s Kung Fu movies--all he needed was the moustache and goatee. I thought I'd also mention that David Bunevacz, the half-Romanian former decathlete, was at one of the non-tournament tables. I bet he's one of the regulars.
Still no action was going on so we opted to go back to the hotel and nap. Well, after a couple of hours trying in vain, I decided to forget sleep and watch MTV instead. As expected, nothing was worth watching but I did see the Blighty Pimp My Ride. That white boy host is no Xzibit but he had his own appeal. I could not help noticing how these Brits are so eloquent with English. Yes, I know. Duh, England? But what I mean is they use literary English with informal conversation.
At six we returned to the casino and see if Big Dodie had arrived. We had gotten word that he would be dropping by with Mister Cee-Oh-Oh sometime that evening. He didn't. Mr. Betita, the Branch Manager, told me later that night that although Boss Dodie was just across the hi-way from the casino, at the Taal Vista Hotel, he had other business to attend to and would not make an appearance. Only the COO made it and he brought displaymates with him. Meanwhile, eliminations ended and the players were down from 61 to 30. They were given a meal break so everyone went up to get dinner. Chibugan ulet! It was a buffet of paella, roast chicken, roast pork, fish fillet, creame of asparagus soup, salad, and a few other things I didn't recognize. Just the same, I got what I came for.
I did my rounds once again and caught up with the Marketing boss sitting at an empty table so I asked for an interview for my report. The woman was obviously bushed but told of what she knew nonetheless.
For the next four hours, I watched with dwindling interest as the players anteed up, folded, and what not. Those who were previously eliminated acted like hooligans cheering from the audience. They consumed large quantities of beer, blew mushrooms of smoke, and were just loud as heck. They were busted old JD buses, I kid you not!
The moment came and a winner emerged; a German pro Poker player who flew in just for this tournament. No question about whether or not it was worth the trip. He was moderately happy but tipped a thousand pesos only for some of the casino vendors. I wanted to interview him but he was always surrounded by people. And I was tired and didn't have the patience to ask questions.
After everything settled, we were treated to early morning grub by the Management heads. There were five of us now and we had Chinese noodles and dimsum this time. This was free meal #4 for this trip. Friendly advice to future visitors of CF Tagaytay: DO NOT waste your time dining at Chine. Orders will take atleast half an hour, they will NOT serve you tea unless you complain that you've been sitting there waiting for the dang thing for ten minutes, there's a snooty waiter who will make all kinds of disemboweled looks when he serves your food, they don't know that with condements you have to provide dip containers, they are completely incompetent. I'm sorry to declare that but you had to be there to see how bad they were. I thought Mike was gonna cause a ruckus because he was mouthing off things at the waiter. I decided to keep my negative comments about the service to myself. Did I mention they overcharge atleast threefold and above?
On the drive back to the hotel, the hi-way was dangerously unlit. The only illumination came from those houses on the ridge and a few commercial signs. Fog had engulfed everything around us, so much that you would half expect Jack the Ripper or a White Lady to hurl theirselves on the windshield. I was too tired to get scared. Really.
I didn't sleep too well because I was still in the same clothes that smelled of nicotine. The wake-up call I requested at 7 AM roused me. Of course, I turned the tv on and flipped channels. At 8:30, we decided to get ready for the road. We had complementary (read: measly) breakfast of garlic fried rice and a piece of skinny hotdog. Anthony requested for fried eggs just to make it a full meal.
After picking up what was left of our gear from the casino, we went on our way. We made a side trip to Mahogany Market for beef. The peddlers were all over me once they saw the marked vehicle I got out off. (We had the Revo "Media" one.) I got tired of saying "no" so I just gazed down and ignored them as I walked. They may have lower-priced beef here but everything else was marked way up as high as the city is from sea level. I bought a Pepsi and initially heard "thirteen" so I gave the vendor twenty pesos. She gave me a confused look and said, "Ma'am, thirty po."
We still had 400 pesos on our budget so we bought some KFC for the drive. I didn't feel like eating so I just bought some chicken fillet sandwiches for the folks at home. It's gonna be brain-drain Tuesday when I prepare the liquidation papers--I hate numbers like I hate grease.
Finally, we were in my turf. I asked Anthony to drop me off in front of our house because I didn't feel like walking 200 meters under the sun. They got to see Cavite's back roads and were surprised to see that we still have foliage and creeks with water. Mike saw my mother and told her they were returning me safe and sound...the geezer.
The first thing I did when I got home was bathe followed by much-desired sleep.
P.S. Sorry for the general absence of photos on my blog. My digital camera died early this year and I have yet to replace it but I remain optimistic.
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