8 September - One night in gambling heaven
I have permission to include the following post as a guest appearance from a reader friend... Very grateful to use his two degrees for once as I didn't get many this week. Though friend's partner was roped into private jet sent by Cl. Gaddafi to pick up Bob Geldof who was going to play a show in Lybia for some youth day festivities. Must ask if friend (not Bob, as assume he has) met the famous er... former... dictator...
here goes (and how come that does not surprise me about Miss Ross) :
I was just reading your blog and it mad me think about the celebs who used to come in to the casino when I worked there. Annoyingly, I almost never recognise them and usually think they must be someone I know from the past. So then I get caught staring at them and when the light dawns, I'm annoyed for looking like just another adoring fan. We used to get any number of sports figures, mostly Americans, who wouldn't necessarily mean much to a European audience. But when you have the whole of the Phoenix Suns basket ball team at your blackjack table, including Charles Barkley ( 1.98m and 120kg with a fearsome scowl) it's an impressive sight.
The only celeb who really affected me was Muhammad Ali who I met in a quiet part in the casino one night. It was just him, his wife and a younger man who might have been a minder. He shook my hand and gave me an amazing smile, but he doesn't talk these days in public. Someone else spotted him and in seconds there was a gang of middle aged men all around him. He towered above us, smiling and trembling the way he does. Everyone seemed to have an uncontrollable desire to touch him. Guys were patting his arms and his shoulders and calling him Champ. One man was crying. There was a boy of about eight dragged up by his father who was emoting in a particularly American way - Do you know who this guy is? He's the Greatest. He's the Champ etc etc. And Ali grinned at the boy and raised his massive fists, threw a couple of gentle jabs. And the boy did the same. It was great stuff. Ali has a presence, a fantastic dignity. He handed out some religious tracts that he had signed and serenely moved away.
Another time I came back from break to find the pit I was working in surrounded by hysterical people all standing on tiptoe and jostling each other. When I finally got through them and back to my table, I found the table next to mine occupied by Tom Cruise, Nicole Kidman (this is some years ago), Bruce Willis, Demi Moore, Patrick Swayze and Billy Crystal. They played five dollar blackjack for a couple of hours, kept the dealer in hysterics (and tipped - unusual for celebs who seem to think being in their presence is a sufficient gratuity) and caused the casino a major security headache.
I also bumped into Tom Cruise in the men's loo outside the salle prive’. We grabbed each other’s arms, dodged, apologised and he flashed that massive smile. Very likable impression but also slightly mad, a feeling of hysteria kept barely under control. He's very short, rather stocky. I went back to the salle and a gay friend begged for a break when he heard that Tom was in the loo so he could just stand next to him and see how big his dick is.
Julio Iglesias used to come in, surrounded by never less than eight girls, usually looking slightly 'shop-soiled.' He was pleasant enough but could have used a good wash. Diana Ross was probably the most unpleasant celeb. Haughty, touchy, often extremely rude, especially with the waitresses and ash tray emptiers.
here goes (and how come that does not surprise me about Miss Ross) :
I was just reading your blog and it mad me think about the celebs who used to come in to the casino when I worked there. Annoyingly, I almost never recognise them and usually think they must be someone I know from the past. So then I get caught staring at them and when the light dawns, I'm annoyed for looking like just another adoring fan. We used to get any number of sports figures, mostly Americans, who wouldn't necessarily mean much to a European audience. But when you have the whole of the Phoenix Suns basket ball team at your blackjack table, including Charles Barkley ( 1.98m and 120kg with a fearsome scowl) it's an impressive sight.
The only celeb who really affected me was Muhammad Ali who I met in a quiet part in the casino one night. It was just him, his wife and a younger man who might have been a minder. He shook my hand and gave me an amazing smile, but he doesn't talk these days in public. Someone else spotted him and in seconds there was a gang of middle aged men all around him. He towered above us, smiling and trembling the way he does. Everyone seemed to have an uncontrollable desire to touch him. Guys were patting his arms and his shoulders and calling him Champ. One man was crying. There was a boy of about eight dragged up by his father who was emoting in a particularly American way - Do you know who this guy is? He's the Greatest. He's the Champ etc etc. And Ali grinned at the boy and raised his massive fists, threw a couple of gentle jabs. And the boy did the same. It was great stuff. Ali has a presence, a fantastic dignity. He handed out some religious tracts that he had signed and serenely moved away.
Another time I came back from break to find the pit I was working in surrounded by hysterical people all standing on tiptoe and jostling each other. When I finally got through them and back to my table, I found the table next to mine occupied by Tom Cruise, Nicole Kidman (this is some years ago), Bruce Willis, Demi Moore, Patrick Swayze and Billy Crystal. They played five dollar blackjack for a couple of hours, kept the dealer in hysterics (and tipped - unusual for celebs who seem to think being in their presence is a sufficient gratuity) and caused the casino a major security headache.
I also bumped into Tom Cruise in the men's loo outside the salle prive’. We grabbed each other’s arms, dodged, apologised and he flashed that massive smile. Very likable impression but also slightly mad, a feeling of hysteria kept barely under control. He's very short, rather stocky. I went back to the salle and a gay friend begged for a break when he heard that Tom was in the loo so he could just stand next to him and see how big his dick is.
Julio Iglesias used to come in, surrounded by never less than eight girls, usually looking slightly 'shop-soiled.' He was pleasant enough but could have used a good wash. Diana Ross was probably the most unpleasant celeb. Haughty, touchy, often extremely rude, especially with the waitresses and ash tray emptiers.
Labels: six degrees
posted by Lisa Taylor @ 5:07 AM
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