It is with great pride and a wash of new, estrogen-spawned passion that I, Bruscilla Hayek, report the first excursion of the TiltGirls.

If you're not a ba-poker list regular, then you may have missed a recent debate about Bay101's "Ladies Only" poker tournaments. A prolonged discussion ensued, with many complaints about reverse discrimination, and post after post enumerating the many reasons that women don't need an exclusive poker tournament.

Very few dissenting opinions surfaced, with one notable exception: a post that lucidly and succinctly proposed that this was a "solution in search of a problem." I was at a party on Sunday with several Tiltboys, discussing why Clifford Matthew's posting was one of the more sensible ones we'd seen.

I then turned to Rafe and mentioned that the current discussion kind of made pointless a previous discussion we'd had. (We had talked earlier about accepting a proposed challenge on the list to show up for the tournament in drag.) Rafe agreed with me, but we both regretted having to pass up on some good fun for reasons of principle, so we resolved the dilemma the way our religion dictates: a rock-scissors-paper match. We loaded the dice in fun's favor by me taking the side of principle and Rafe taking the side of fun, and I somehow got skunked 3-0. (Sometimes I have to pause and bask in the glory of being a disciple of such a wondrous theology.)

Monday it was announced via email: those Tiltboys who were so inclined were invited to Rafe's place to experience a transformation prior to the tournament. I dare say that every Tiltboy's heart sang upon reading of this opportunity, resonating as it did so well with our deeply buried inner tendencies. Five of the more self-honest among us showed up at Rafe's at 4:30: the artists formerly known as Rafe, Phil, Perry, Mike and Bruce.

Kim Scheinberg was to join us in the capacity of consultant and hat provider, but missed the train from SF. Fortunately, Susan Papa, a friend of the Tiltboys had lent advice and some key items from her wardrobe. We were pleasantly surprised to discovered many suppressed talents amongst ourselves, and had no trouble "doing ourselves up". I can highly recommend Rafaela and Michelle for make-overs, Phyllis for Cosmo-class fashion sense, and Freida for color coordination.

I arrived a bit late, so was forced to dress on the road -- highway 101 during rush hour. Rafaela rushed me into her car, skillfully soothing my distress about wearing summer colors in autumn. Just prior to hitting the road, Rafaela asked me in the most natural manner imaginable (sounding exactly like my girlfriend in a previous life) to please "get my purse out of the trunk because it has the make-up in it."

So here I am on 101, trying to figure out how to put on my bra (Rafe impatiently snaps, "Just fasten it around your waist, rotate it and pull up the straps.") I was hesitant to observe the expressions from neighboring cars as I applied my makeup in the vanity mirror, but Rafe assures me that between the 5 of us we were responsible for the majority of accidents on the freeway that evening. Frieda slowed at one point to let a lady merge, who glanced at him and almost rode over the embankment.

4 cars converged on the Tiltboy's corner of the Bay 101 parking lot (our typical meeting spot for Vegas excursions.) 5 stunning and self-assured TiltGirls emerged, and with a few giggles and stumbles as other driver's gawked at us, made our way across the parking lot to the casino. Rafaela wore a smart pink flowered blouse with matching bell-bottom slacks, and a daring corduroy engineer's cap.I, Bruscilla, wore a dainty summer skirt, a knit mustard tank top with a tastefully appointed cashmere sweater around my shoulders, and an evening hat rakishly poised on my coiffured hair. Frieda boldly strode forth in a navy velvet evening gown, with matching slippers. Phyllis elected for the simple approach, in a light magenta frock with a schoolgirl wraparound skirt which showed his thigh to maximum advantage, and a matching blue straw hat with a white chiffon ribbon. Michelle, daring fashion queen that she is, stomped in wearing a bright spring shift that barely reached her knees, stunning silver earrings offset by her rumpled socks and sneakers. Unfortunately, Michelle has put on a bit of weight recently so we were unable to fasten the back, but gladly the Victoria's Secret chartreuse satin bra showing across her broad hairy back didn't detract one iota from the ensemble.

There was no way to predict the reaction that our arrival would evoke. I expected maybe a few chuckles and some pointed fingers. Instead, there was a wave of sound as 1000 poker patrons gasped and roared, the list manager pausing in the middle of an announcement to say "Oh my God" into the microphone, and finally a flattering standing ovation.

With poise and aplomb, we wove through the tables to the cage, where we paid our entry fees and received our slips. At this point, I felt a large lapse of composure, as for the first time that evening we were forced to separate to our appropriate tables, and the security of the group gave way to the vulnerability of being an attractive woman alone in a crowded poker room. The fact that I had to pee didn't help, either. In fact, I was far too intimidated to approach the men's room (though apparently Michelle was not), and not quite comfortable with entering the ladies room. I opted to sit with crossed legs through the entire tournament instead.

Michelle joined my table, and minutes later the cards were in the air. Let me just mention that Bay 101 was extremely gracious given the spot we put them in -- much thanks to Bay101 employees Kim and Karl who went above and beyond the call of duty to please everyone -- and the tournament went off smoothly and efficiently, in spite of the 5 rambunctious queens flirting with every male dealer and floorman. At one point near the end of the tournament, Karl thanked a "varied and interesting field" for playing, with very little sneer in his voice.

I found myself unable to hold my own against the tough crowd of props, career players and beginners. I busted out early, the first of the TiltGirls to lose, after winning only one pot during my 1.2 hours at the table. The consoling tittering of my fellow TiltGirls did much to alleviate the sting.

Soon came the mid-tourney break, with 4 TiltGirls still playing and Michelle tournament chip-leader. We gathered under the Women's Room sign for a group photo (thanks Lee.) We thanked the supporting crowd for the ba-poker list who came to cheer us on: thanks Lee for the cookies, and I'll see you on Friday for our date. Thanks Ken, Quick and Slick, for the support. Thanks Kim and John, for the lavish compliments. And thanks Patti, for showing up at the final table to cheer us on. If I missed a few of you, it's only because I was so swept away by all the attention.

Phyllis and Frieda busted out soon after the break, with Frieda quickly distributing the money she earned from Rafaela with a case-king suck out. As the field was reduced to two tables, it was only Michelle and Rafaela keeping the TiltGirl pride alive. Rafaela, almost to the felt, hit quads and sailed to the final table in mid-chip position. Michelle sat (so to speak) on her chip stack and came to the final table in second place.

A skirmish ensued, as the short stacks struggled to keep afloat, and eventually four of them dropped. With 5 paying places, both of our gals was guaranteed in the money. Rafaela was the next to succumb, and pocketed $90.

I should mention before concluding the tourney write-up that the reactions of the Real Women that had to deal with us was somewhere between shock, disbelief and mild humor. I think one or two of the 46 entrants resented our presence, but they kept it to themselves. In general, I really appreciated the way the cardroom staff (especially the tourney manager Kim) and players dealt with we deviants. A photographer even showed up (in drag) and took pictures of every player.

By this point, we'd grown bored with the jaw dropping and stares as the evening crowd filtered in. My butt had been pinched one too many times, and I had more dealer's phone numbers than I could ever follow up on. The eliminated queens gathered on the rail to cheer on Michelle, although she would repeatedly urge us to "not get our panties in a bunch." Speaking of bad humor, the two quotes that stood out were Slick or Quick advising me not to say "I'm holding the nuts", and Patti shouting "Dikes!" as Michelle turned over pocket queens for a big pot.

The last short stack dropped as the blinds went up, and it was Mike tied for chip lead with a tough lady, and one moderately sized stack. At this point the tourney director came by and explained an attractive arrangement for settlement, with huge tax advantages, but Michelle's earrings must have been pinching too hard because she couldn't put two and two together. She seemed intent on turning down a very good deal, until Frieda snuck up behind her and snapped her bra, finally snapping her out of some kind of trance, and the deal was accepted. Final arrangement was $599 for the two chip leaders, and $400 for the short stack. A healthy $70 tip to the dealers, and the five of us made a decent 150% profit on our original pooled buy-in.

They played down for the trophy, and the tough tourney lady (TTL) proceeded to beat up repeatedly on the other two stacks. She was getting monster cards, and once had three pocket pairs in a row. She quickly bust out the short stack, and blinds starting escalating rapidly for the last two players. Michelle won a major pot to even things up, then went 3-4 bets (putting her opponent all-in) before the flop with pocket threes against pocket tens. Ten on the flop spelt doom for the TiltGirl trophy, and Michelle valiantly bust out two hands later.

She posed in a daze for the tourney photos (oh joy! -- might we make Card Player?), and both finalists received a huge round of applause from the 50+ rail birds. We hung around flirting for a bit, then blew kisses and made our exit. A glorious and educational experience for all concerned, and I think an appropriate summation was expressed by Phil: "Hey, we play a mean game of poker and look awesome. I'd do any one of us in a second!"

- Bruscilla (feeling phony wearing men's clothing today)