I’ve never had any reason to find the notorious \”Hooker bar\” in The Rio since:
a I’m not a prostitute
b. I’m not looking for one
c. I don’t drink (Yes, I know, lame, but I’m not here to impress anyone.)
The $3k limit tournament ended at 3 am and my husband — who was still alive — needed a scotch. There was only one bar open and it turns out it was the bar I pass everyday. I instantly knew it was the hooker bar by the three ladies in hot pants hanging out with some seniors (65 and older type seniors).
Anyway, we had a cocktail with Max Pescatori who was later replaced by Bill Chen, who had just won 12k on video poker. While visiting with Bill the man to my back taps me on the shoulder and:
“Are you working tonight?†— Guy
“Excuse me?†— Michele
“Are you working tonight or are you just here for pleasure?†— Big Guy
“I’m here visiting with my husband†— Showing him my wedding ring
“Oh, sorry!†— Big Ugly Guy
“Hey, that’s not your husband!†— Big Ugly Guy says motioning to Bill Chen
“No, he’s my friend. That’s my husband\” — motioning to my waving husband
“Oh, sorry!†— Big, Ugly and Fat guy
I turn around to Bill and Terry and ask, “how can someone think I’m a hooker with jeans, a sweatshirt zipped up to my neck and a wedding ring on?†I guess if you are a woman at a hooker bar then you must be a hooker, even if escorted by your husband.