Vegas: dodging knives and catching rays

I’ve played no poker so far on this trip. But to make up for that and keep this post interesting, let me tell you how I wore a blindfold while Penn and Teller threw knives at me.

So I’m at the Penn and Teller show and get selected from the audience to go up onto the stage and participate in their next trick. I blame this on the fact that this is one of those unusual occasions when I am wearing a tiny dress and heels and, well, let’s face it, Penn senses that I’ll look good blindfolded and standing in front of a giant target. He proceeds to jabber away about how very still I have to stand in order to avoid death by stab wound. Then he slips the blindfold over my eyes and hurls knives in my general direction. They strike the board all around me with a menacing thwack. I am told to remove my blindfold and observe the mere millimeters that separate me from six and a half inches of cold steel cutlery. The audience, including my companion for the evening, delights in my predicament. How rude.

No stranger to magic show assistantship (thanks to a harrowing experience at Jew camp in sixth grade), I am well aware that nothing bad can really happen to me and that there is a logical explanation for why the Rio’s buffet will not be serving Jodi sushi this evening. But then Teller hands me the knives, blindfolds me, and suddenly I am hurling knives at Penn myself. Again I assure myself there is no way I can possibly injure this icon of American comedy and recent Celebrity Poker Showdown contestant. I am more worried about how my hair looks and how I hope my manner of knife-throwing doesn’t look too girly (even though I’m in a tiny dress and heels).

Of course both Penn and I escaped from the trick unscathed. The giant magician joins the short list of celebrities who have been permitted to blindfold me, and I join the ranks of those lucky few who have actually heard Teller speak (albeit in whispered stage commands).

Took a quick peek at the Amazon Room since Penn and Teller’s show is at the Rio and the Amazon Room is pretty much poker’s Mecca this week. Now that I’ve paid homage to the place I likely won’t go back this week. I really don’t see a need.

I spent the bulk of the day today inviting skin cancer to take up residence on my person. Lounging by the Bellagio’s pool, eating fruit salad and reading the latest (disappointing) issue of CardPlayer, I pretty much felt like life doesn’t get much better. I certainly couldn’t imagine entering a cavernous poker room and cozying up to nine men around a table for six hours. But that’s probably what I’ll do this very evening. Unless Penn and Teller call me up and demand an encore performance. I wouldn’t want to let my public down.