Your charming fatboy perv neighbor is once again getting touchy-feely with your hostess. Worse still is how the whole group of fucks hanging out with that guy are goading him on. You paid for alcohol and atmosphere, not the girl, fuckos. And unfortunately for Erica, security has stepped away to the restroom, so no help coming there. Fuck it, a little chivalry wouldn't kill you. You walk over.
"Erica, can you come here a sec?"
"Yeah, what do you boys need?" as she excuses herself away from douchebag's table. Fatty gives you his best tough-guy stare. You keep your eyes on the girl. Not that keeping your eyes on her is much a challenge. Still, don't quite get the whole slutty Santa thing. Never exactly fantasized about a hot fem Santa coming down your chimney the night before Christmas-- then again, maybe it's about you coming down her chimney. Wow, the hookers have wore off on you.
"Can we get some champagne?" How about a cold shower too. Off limits, but...OFF LIMITS.
"Yeah, of course, what do you want?" Erica eyes the unfinished bottles of whiskey, vodka, and the dozen or so mixers. The retardedness of ordering a stupidly overpriced bottle of champagne when you've got more alcohol than you can possibly finish and not a single girl to impress sets in a bit. Well, besides Erica.
"Um. White Star?" There goes that.
"White Star?"
"Um, yeah"
"Okay." She looks at you with great pity.
Well, chivalry was a bust and you've ruined what little cred you might have had with ordering White Star. Didn't have to be Krug or Cristal, could have got the Clicquot, but no, hot girl reduced you to stuttering for some White Star. This is what happens when you talk. Just sit still and watch the girls. Black boy-shorts is back on stage. When I dip, you dip, we dip. Thank you.
Your champagne arrives eerily quickly, or it seems that way. Guess they weren't searching for that last bottle.
"Oh my gawd, White Star, I love White Star." Well, Long Island is back, and somewhat drunker. More drunk? You've been more sober yourself. A night of slowly sipping on screwdrivers all night long as an excuse not to talk to anyone, epitome of cool. Still, be nice.
"Yeah? Me too. I was sort of embarrassed to order it."
"Because it's fucking White Star, I know."
"Yeah." You laugh. You're flirting with this girl. She's not your type, but it's five in the morning, you're drunk and bored out of your mind. You pour her a flute of the White Star that you don't really love, but know she's the type to love, and go with it. The cliché Mid-Atlantic girl's irrational obsession with all things Moët or Grey Goose. Seriously, how do those North Face-Rock & Republic-clones feel so strongly about Goose? It's just fucking vodka.
Fast forward fifteen minutes and you find yourself still talking with Long Island, now known as Kathy. The club officially closes in twenty minutes, but the clearing out process is slow, and if need be, you generally have another twenty to thirty minutes to, as they say, seal the deal. Fucking they.
You lift up your shades, "Who are you here with by the way?"
"I came with two friends, but they, they left a few hours ago." Probably not alone.
She moves in. Her hand is on yours. Your heart, despite your bullshit ego, races. With your shades lifted, you can see that she is definitely cute. Smooth tanned face, sultry eyes, full lips. Her glitter lip gloss flashes with each pulse of the dance floor strobe. Ugh, why are they playing fucking trance? You and Long Island, Kathy, are alone in your section. Your friends either cleared out to give you privacy or found their own prey. Fuck it. You move in. She smells of strawberries.
"Sorry, but is there anything else you'll need? This is the last round." Erica. Fuck. You pull back quickly. What's with the guilt? Intense guilt. You can't hear her over the music. You stand up to get closer and lower your shades.
"Sorry, what's up?"
"This is last call, anything else?"
"Nah, we'll settle up now too."
"Sure, no problem, be right back."
She seemed somewhat wounded to see you with another girl. Or is that wishful thinking? Or her acting? It's a little hard to empathize with her -- how much is the real her and how much is just her character? Which are you even interested in? Still, she looked dead-tired. Most parties arrive around 11 and each hostess works two to three tables. Six hours of the act has got to get old. The amount of harassment isn't much less than what she'd get working one of the more upscale strip clubs, say Rhino, and it's hard to know how the pay compares. Actually, doing the math, even conservatively, most tables here drop probably about three grand, with the occasional table blowing it up for ten or more, call the average, four. With her looks and personality, figure minimum twenty five percent, that's three grand a night split between her, the bouncer, and that little Chinese guy dressed up as an elf who apparently is her assistant. Not too bad. Then again, some money goes to the bath tub girls, the girls in lingerie rubbing each other and making out on sofas, and the lingerie dancers -- especially the wonderfully talented black boy-shorts. Meh, she probably doesn't need saving from the life.
From behind you, "Hey, you want to get out of here soon?" Long Island is rather to the point.
"Yeah, in a sec, let me find my friends real quick."
"Yeah, yeah. No rush."
You realize that you and Long Island have managed to kill the bottle of White Star disturbingly quickly, and you're at that stage where you're fighting hard to not do something to drunkenly embarrass yourself. You sit down and smell the alcohol strongly on her breath. This is going to be terrible and marvelously embarrassing for both parties.
As you're about to get up to go looking, your crew shows up all of a sudden, and they've, for the most part, found company. An overly tan Japanese girl in a little black dress complete with long black boots and stockings has vouched for one. She's pretty blinged out too. Extravagant bracelets, earrings, and necklace. No shades though. Can't really make out the details of what she's wearing too well in the dark. Classical stuff though. Traditional Tiffany-esque bling, not Rogues Gallery or Me&Ro type stuff. Strange if she's really from Japan to be sporting such tame jewelery, but she pulls it off. The sour, disinterested expression helps. Regardless of what others might say, jewelery is hot. American girls never go that all out. Gaudy, terrible hoop earrings if you're lucky. You check Long Island; yup, big, dumb hoops.
The two with girls say their good nights before you get a good look at the other girl. Pale. Tall. They also left before contributing to the check. Shocking. Boyfriend-Girlfriend also take off. Without paying. Your remaining friend, the alpha of your pack, looks at you, looks at Long Island, and looks back at you.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Drunk?"
"Maybe." Erica and the little elf come back with the check. You hand her your plastic without checking it. Never underestimate nonchalance. It gets you laid. And maybe ripped off sometimes. Still probably worth it. Actually, not so sure about that getting laid part, but it seems like it could.
Your boy notices and smirks. "Let's go. I got us a game."
"I can't."
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54 comments:
Hotness
Good read. Must hear the conclusion. Think most of us have been in situations at some point or another... maybe not.
good stuff raddy, keep it up
Back to sweet, sweet nestle cocoa coming out of a fat man's nipple.
I keep forgetting this is a WoW blog
back to the fat man's nipple thought, that, too, gets you laid.
Try it some time, at a local community pool or a gym.
Parts of this are again amazingly well written, such as:
"Her glitter lip gloss flashes with each pulse of the dance floor strobe"
You have a great visual sense and fantastic attention to detail. Keep writing.
What's Rogue's Gallery and Me&Ro? Never heard of them.
Can't wait for more!
Me & Ro
www.meandrojewelry.com
Rogues Gallery
www.dandyrogue.com
(website has none of their jewelry)
It's slightly edgy, kitschy, trendwhore jewelry that is moderately expensive. It's basically a tier below Chrome Hearts or Leonard Kamout (Lone Ones) type stuff.
(FEEL FREE TO DISAGREE OR CORRECT ME BTW)
Go shopping with me
Raddy what do you do for a living? :)
he's a professional gamer, leading the charge for wow as an esport
What type of finance job?
finance slacker
I'm guessing from how much Ming says he makes, ibanking. Although he does seem to have a lot of time to go out it seems, so maybe hedge fund manager?
I've never understood the fascination with Grey Goose either. Too many people buy into marketing, and ignore the good stuff. I have heard Costco vodka (Kirkland) is the bestest vodka out there though. Probably can't get it at Tao though...
happy new years son
This stuff reminds me of Californication for some reason, which seems like a good thing to me.
Good read.
great read, can't wait for the next part!
Threesome with Erica please :o
Please tell me you didn't Eiffel Tower that ho.
He's riding her and she dies of an immense heart-stopping orgasm halfway through.
Being a true performer in bed, he goes all Weekend-at-Bernies on her and finishes up (the show must go on!)
Then he hires some chain-cigar-smoking guy with "fox" somewhere in his name or nickname to clean the shit up.
Just another day at Vegas.
Raddy out of all the wow bloggers out there.
You're the only one I'd pay for sex.
Well maybe a threesome with Ming and Estel ( we could do a whole naruto/NBA role play session) itd be hot
WTB some neat baller spec action..
whats up with your movie, are you going to finishing it? i hope so
Don't tell me you have a thing against trance, that would be so not baller ):
Nice continuation though, keep it up..
Your ability to describe characters and personify them quickly through pretty random factoids is fantastic. It's smoothly cinematic. You'd find an audience if this is what you decide interests you.
Great stuff <3
http://elitistjerks.com/f38/t17428-pvp_video_compilations/
Thought you might have something to say on it.
new year a lot of bankers get their holiday, so it makes relative sense.
though i'm not sure how he ever plays during the week, and won't at all on big deal weeks i'd imagine.
i'm going to guess vp or associate director at a t1 (gs/ms) or t2 firm.
and now i'm going to ask for a business card so i can whore you out! ^^
wtb help on faggy interview questions?
or pe. he seems like a pe guy.
I hate you, I'm so addicted to your blog now. Keep up the good work!
p.s. what happened next?
hehe the two after-noirs werent something I read right away, I wanted to save them for a time when I could really appreciate their subtle design... and oh fuck was it worth it.
I'd seriously doubt Rad's a VP or above, most of the VPs I've met are either older (too old for wow, have kids, etc) and definitely don't go to vegas to hit on cocktail waitresses. The younger ones, are workaholics because well.. that's how you get VP when you're young (average VP has about 8-10yrs of industry experience).
I'd say, more likely Rad is a trader at one of the more chill trading desks, IE cash equity or one of the bond desks. Once the markets close, they go home.
Wasn't it confirmed already that he worked for some HF trading currencies hence the strange work hours?
short the dolla dolla bill y'all
His family is old money and he only got the job he has through bullshit connections. He plays cards and video games because his social skills blow and he thinks he's better than everyone else because he has money.
YOU GOT ME GOOD ANONYMOUS
YO FAMILY SO POOR THAT WHEN YOU WERE A BABY YOU HAD TO USE YOUR DADDYS DICK FOR A PACIFIER
Damn, I guess I just proved you right
lol pwnt.
but yeah, people shoot for vp as 26/27 y/o if they're focused on it. seems somewhat reasonable, though never sure because who the fuck would have time to write sweet poker blogs if that were the case.
not old money, though. totally an acquired arrogance instead of a god-given, undeserved pretentious one. victory tastes so much sweeter that way ^^
Honest to god, Radddy is a pro-gamer.
Btw, you really need to find some time to do fucking 5s with us.
The truth is that Radikal balls for a living.
Let me be the first to tell you balling isn't the easiest work around...sometimes when you've balled too hard on the people around you, you may wonder if they can really take much more of your balling tendencies. But knowing Raddy...there's always a noun he can find to ball out on and I believe that is where he gets his millions upon gazillions upon bazillions of dollarz from.
Radikal is a professional baller.
But what happens when balling goes wrong
have you ever seen a pitbull eat mayonaise?
Based on the way he talks about his history in Vegas, his age - look at the pictures in the other thread, and the way he talks about clothing and jewelry, you can almost gaurantee he comes from money regardless of what his job may be. So I think that anonymous might be correct. Based on his earlier posts, he seems very quantitative, but not extremely thorough - he takes shortcuts a lot and approximates a lot, I think this makes it less chance he is a banker and more likely private equity, trading, or hedge fund related. The only x-factor is that Ming claimed that Raddy was very far along on his career which implies a career path driven industry which does feel a lot more like banking.
http://blog.wired.com/games/2007/12/chinese-teen-bu.html
lawl check the comments
Radikal how about some rant post about how much mages suck in 1v1 against skilled opponents?
so, radi, where can a guy get the /ignore mod for arena because shouldnt everyone be able to use that just like magic track?
When I read the comments to these noir posts I often wonder: "How the fuck do people read this as nonfiction?" Raddy is a very entertaining writer.
His style needs polishing, which I assume is both why he quit writing his blog and why he came back.
However, reading these entries as a Dear Diary of sorts just doesn't make sense. Raddy has very likely been in situations like in his noir posts, but please stop assuming "omg NOWAI can u afford chrome hearts LOL" or bullshit like that. Every writer draws on what he or she knows.
Whether or not Raddy knows the poker scene to this depth is arbitrary. However, he knows what he's talking about enough to tell a very interesting story using a rather unique voice.
Given that these are to be read as works of fiction, please STOP questioning the authenticity with such comments regarding his profession, his looks, his social abilities or anything else.
From the way these are written, it is obvious the "I" has money, plays limit poker well, is judgmental when it comes to women (and as such has little skill with them), and his friends come for the money. Why on earth does it matter if our beloved Raddy is the "I"? I see these as entertaining works of fiction from a budding writer. After all, "noir" doesn't mean "autobiography".
Why has nobody commented on how the stories are written in second person? There is no "I", everything is "You" in both pieces. Interesting.
How about a damn pvp movie?! Or at least the next part in NOIR?
Actually, I mostly finished part IV because I found it easier to finish up before part III. So when III's put up, IV should follow soon I promise. ^^
I kind of lost interest, just for a second, towards the end of the investment discussion in the limo.
I only point it out because every time I've seen a new Poker Noir post up, from the first to the last, I invariable glance at the length and my first reaction is "holy shit.. theres no way I'm going to get through all this", but then as soon as I start reading I'm absorbed and it's over to soon.
Only in this case the investment stuff brought me out of the story a little bit and I thought "hmm, whens this part going to be over?"
part 3 drags too much I agree
It's not quite right
woops yeah. Meant to post that under the 3 and 4 entry.
Great poker blog
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