8.10.09

Today was one of those days that I just have to try and describe. I should have known it was going to be a bit different when I awoke this morning and strolled in the general direction of the elevators at the Horseshoe Hotel. This walk is not as it appears when one first begins the trek. You are led through a maze of corridors all appearing the same as the one before. The only hope one would have of finding the elevators at all is the continuous signs stating which direction to go. I can only imagine how many elderly people were lost over the years wandering the corridors of this ancient hotel. Not really lost, as in gone, but lost as in wandering around and becoming so pissed that they let the desk clerk hear about once they finally make there way downstairs.

It has to be one of the oddest designs of a building that I have ever seen. My room, of course, since I was paying the lowly poker rate, was located at the farthest point possible from the elevators. It wasn't an issue since I like to walk, and I need to walk. The issue was with no internet connection at the Starbucks located in the lobby. I had to change hotels. So, I cancelled at the Horseshoe and got a reservation at Terrace Hotel, which is part of Harrah's Tunica. The price is lower, and they have wi-fi in the rooms. The Terrace Hotel is only 3 minutes from the Horseshoe poker room. Slam dunk all the way around.

Before going over there I may as well get a bite to eat and maybe play a bot of poker. Luckily they were getting ready to start up a game right at that very moment. There was no other poker being played that morning. Our game was it for about the next 2 hours.

The make up of the group we started out with was that of a bunch of tight-passive individuals. I hadn't played at a table with this passive of a group in a very long time. I changed gears and picked up the pace, raising and re-raising many hands. I built a nice stack and had won a few hundred after about 5 hours. I enjoy watching people switch tables when I am winning. Does that make me sadistic?

After about 5 hours of play I decided to check into the new room. This room is not as plush as the one I had at the Horseshoe, but I don't really need plush. I need it to be close to the poker room, I need clean bedsheets, a good shower, an adequate television, and a wireless connection to the internet. Check, check, check, and check. I also took a short afternoon nap. I was feeling pretty good when I awoke. It was time to play some more cards.

I drove the three miles back to the poker room for my second session of the day. It was around six when I sat down at the same table from earlier that morning. I played for about thirty minutes. I'm not kidding. I lost twice with pocket aces. That in itself is not too bad. I lost way too much the second time I had them, and I knew I was on tilt. That was when I did something that I am very proud of. I got up and went back to the room.

I've been down this road too often in the past to not try to stop it. Plus, I was hating poker like you would not believe. I was seething.

I drove back to the hotel, went inside, and sat in front of the t.v. and stewed for a while. I thought about the hands, and realized I had made a couple of errors. I went on the internet. I chatted with some friends, and posted some of my bullshit. I had a nice chat with M, and I slowly started to feel better.

Eventually I determined that my pockets weren't going to get full by sitting on my ass watching Family Guy, so I drove back to the casino for my third stay at the tables. I walked into the poker room and there were no floor people anywhere to be found. I thought this strange, but figured they were up to something.

There was a seat available at one of the tables and I sat down. The game was pretty good and these guys were gambling it up. But, no one was joking around with anyone else. It was very quiet. Well, this would not do.

I started it innocently enough by asking one of the dealers if her middle name was Lisa. She laughed along with me, and a few others laughed as well, and I thought she had understood the joke. She then asked me "why?"

Oh jeez. You see her first name is Mona. I guess no one had ever made that connection before? I don't know. It seems a logical sequence for one's brain to make. "Oh, her name is Mona, that's strange, I wonder if her middle name is Lisa?". Interestingly enough, that was all the encouragement these guys needed as they suddenly became very talkative.

The table was fun, and the chips were flying. I was managing to pick off my fare share of the coin as it was flung around the table when the funniest moment of the night happened. Let me see if I can set this up right.

A 28 year old lawyer was sitting to my immediate left. He had his girlfriend with him. She was Russian, and also a lawyer. She was ridiculously hot, but that has nothing to do with this story other than to point out that she was distracting. Anyhow, we were chatting away when we quieted down a bit because the guy to his left was in the play of the current hand.

The guy, to the left of the lawyer, was becoming drunk, playing way too many hands, and losing money rather quickly. I stopped talking because I was sure there was going to be more carnage. The drunk guy was in the hand against only one other player. The other player was a middle aged Asian man. He had on a polo golf shirt and looked like a regular, Asian guy.

The Asian guy made a big bet on the flop. Drunk guy called his bet. Asian guy made another big bet on the turn, and it was even big enough to force drunk guy to be all-in should he call. Drunk guy thought about it for 3 seconds and said "call" very quietly. The dealer, Mona, even asked him with a surprised look on her face if he said call. "Yes, call" he repeated.

Mona rolled over an 8 for the river card. Asian guy showed a busted king high flush draw. Uh-oh, not good. Drunk guy shows a busted straight draw, but he had paired the eight with the one in his hand. Drunk guy was now raking in a nice pot. The Asian guy stood up and said, rather loudly "How come he call?!?!?"

He kept repeating this over and over, with a strong Chinese accent. "How come he caw? How come he caw?". I was watching him and started chuckling because he just kept saying it directly at one of the guys across the table from him. I assumed it was the other Asian guy at that end of the table who he was so vehemently asking how in the hell that drunk ass could make a call like that.

I leaned over to take a look at and saw that Asian guy was not talking to the other Asian guy. Asian guy was yelling at some regular joe, who had a little thin beard and mustache, and also had a look on his face as if to say "Why is this man yelling at me?"

I lost it. Well, I wasn't alone. The lawyers lost it too. The redneck in seat 10 lost it. The dealer never cracked a smile. She is a professional. Finally, I couldn't take it any more. After Asian guy got off one of his "How come he caw?" I replied "He had a straight draw and wanted to gamble! Plus, he's hooked in this game, he can't get even by folding!"

I certainly did not want drunk guy thinking anyone at all would have played the hand any differently. If he wanted to get even he was going to have to gamble. I did not want Asian guy saying anything to get drunk guy mad and sober. Asian guy left without buying back in.

I and the lawyer guy laughed for quite a while about that entire scene. The white guy across the table from Asian guy looked nervous as hell when Asian guy was losing his mind. For the next hour or so that table was as wild as they come. There was raising every hand. I was able to win more than I lost and made a nice profit for the day.

Drunk guy went broke. There may be a lesson there, somewhere. Crazy day.