When they close down the Poker in NYC, Where does Toby go?

The Taj in Atlantic City, of course. On a whim, I jumped on a bus with the picture-taking Matt, and after checking out BAlly's, we plunked ourselves down at an Omaha hi/lo game for about, oh, well, 5 hours. Then we got dinner, checked out the wait at the Tropicana (far too long), headed back to the Taj, got back on the same Omaha table, and played until 4 am.

We met quite the cast of characters in our hours there, including people I dubbed Mean Fatty Macallister, "I Gotta Go," Mrs. Greenshirt (who, as far as we could tell, played for 12 hours straight without getting up to go to the bathroom, despite the steady stream of White Russians), The Cop, Mr. No-toothy, and more.

Good times, good times.