Judy Kay-Wolff


We are at the Riviera on the Strip for the Regional and haven’t touched a card yet as our event begins this evening.  As some of you may know, the hotel was taken over several months ago and although the playing space no doubt remains super, the preliminary preparations to settle in were not to be believed.  This was our plight:

Please note we have been playing here for six years (at least twice a year) and everything was copacetic!  Nary a problem.    We drove into the entrance as usual and found the entrance was no longer the entrance leading to check in and had to drive around twenty minutes until someone was able to guide us to the new check in spot (distant from the regular one).   Bobby went to park the car while I was checking in and I got a ticket for my luggage.   When I got to the desk, they told me I had no reservation (made three months in advance).   When at the time I asked for a confirmation number, I was told it was unnecessary.   All that had to  be done was present Bobby’s player’s card to the Riviera.   That was unacceptable and they re-confirmed that heretofore although that was the procedure, I should try something else.    What that was — they had no idea.   I finally dragged myself to the Players Club where they welcomed me with open arms and apologized as the original desk should have had our information.

I signed in, got my key but now the problem was to locate Bobby as I was not at the designated spot where we arranged to meet.   Luckily, he had the good sense to  head toward the Players Club where I had just left and we collided.

Now to the room – reasonable enough – but devoid of toilet paper (except for 1/4 of a used roll).  Very few hangers and pillows too.   I called room service and waited twenty minutes for them to accommodate my request for three extra pillows   They could only give me two since they were running short.  Imagine that!  What an economy in which we are living.

After I unpacked and unpacked (we can’t commute twenty five minutes daily for a week at our ages so we indulge ourselves in the luxury of staying at the site).   The fabulous Kristopher’s Restaurant (unbelievable but expensive) was remodeled in the overtake and is now renamed “R” – perfectly acceptable (not sensational) but substantially cheaper.

Their former coffee shop is now open from 6 to 2 (no dinner accommodations).   They have done away with regular waitress service.   There is a menu on the wall from which you order, you get a bill and after you pay, get a receipt and little stand with a number and you select your own table where your waitress brings the food.   Rather plebeian for a once crowded all-day popular coffee shop.   We will have to check around to see what has replaced it.   The Banana Tree (oriental) is still open, thank heavens.   It is quite good.

A double hallway of ground level shops have been replaced by video machines and other gaming facilities.   Little is left in the way of shops.  The sports book has been moved.   You need a guide to learn where long-time places are now located or dissolved.

Incidentally, this is no reflection on the head honchos (Tom Shulman and Barbara Dunkley) who could not be more accommodating!  Hopefully, the bridge sites are still as nice as they have been.   We’ll find out soon enough.


ReneJune 18th, 2012 at 11:27 pm

Sounds like a couple frustrating hours till you
finally settled in and hope that it was worth it. Do well in the tournament!

MichaelJune 19th, 2012 at 6:12 am

Good luck and have fun.

Steven GaynorJune 19th, 2012 at 9:08 pm

Good luck – We will return to the Vegas regional when they move to Bally’s (January, 2014?). Meanwhile we may see you at Glitter Gulch sectionals.

John SJune 26th, 2012 at 10:09 pm

Judy, you didn’t mention (or perhaps didn’t experience) that the TV’s needed rebooting daily. Maintenance was great the first time and Ozzy taught me how to do it myself which was handy for the subsequent days.

Judy Kay-WolffJune 26th, 2012 at 11:33 pm

John: It wasn’t my TV that needed rebooting daily. It was my computer. To each his own.