Poker Face
It was about midnight and we were all getting tired. It had been a long evening. There was a garbage can near the table filled with empty beer cans, and the stench of smoke filled the room. People seated at the table were the host, his wife, two of his friends, and me.
The host is a friend of mine who I’ve referenced on this blog before. He used to own a couple of titty bars, then cashed out and is sort of semi-retired now. We played tennis together a lot before my knee went bad, but still stay in touch. Since I saw him last, he married one of his dancers, who by the way didn’t look all that sexy at the table. She was wearing a baggy sweat bottoms and a muscle t-shirt with a cigar hanging out of mouth to accessorize. When the cigar wasn’t in her mouth she was cussing like a sailor, which got a laugh out of the guys the first five or six times, then got irritating after a while. My friend gave her the evil eye a few times, but she kept spewing profanity every time she lost a hand or even was dealt a bad card. You could see that she loved the attention, but didn’t have much of a poker face.
The other two guys looked like they were about in their mid-thirties, and couldn’t stop talking about work (technology shop talk). They would tell stories that didn’t go anywhere, so it was pretty easy to tune them out and concentrate on my cards.
It was getting late. Players who were ahead wanted to stop and call it an evening, but those who were down wanted to keep going and play on. I was up about forty dollars, but could have easily called it quits. I’m not a gambler, but I do enjoy the camaraderie and being around people who seem to take it so seriously.
I could care less about playing cards for money. I could have enjoyed the experience playing penny ante or even just playing with the chips. The ante slowly had been raised from a quarter, to fifty cents, to a dollar. Toward the end of the evening, it was proposed to raise the ante to five dollars and play three more hands to expedite closure of the game.
I had played cautiously throughout the night which I believe worked to my benefit toward the end. I’m not an avid poker player by any means, but I have a fairly good memory for cards that have been played, and I’m good with odds and ratios which make up the math component. I don’t bluff often, but when I do I set it up several hands ahead. I hadn’t bluffed once all evening.
The deal went to our potty-mouth girl, and I knew she’d call out five card draw with deuces wild as she’d done twice earlier in the evening. My best game was seven card stud, and I had won several pots early in the evening. 5 card draw wasn’t my favorite, but at least it would all be over soon now. We anted, and then she dealt the cards.
The key in all games of chance is maintaining a high degree of concentration and focus. I noticed as she was dealing, she was leaning acutely over the table so that the guys got a good look at her impressive mammalian protrusions. Her husband had paid for her boob job back in her dancing days, and I must admit my mind strayed from the game for a moment. My friend didn’t seem to mind his wife’s behavior. After all, he figured he was down fifty bucks, and a little distraction just might change his luck.
I sighed softly in admiration of the dealer, and then picked up my hand. It was shit. Earlier in the evening I would have folded and lived to fight another hand. The others knew this, so I thought I might be able to use this to my advantage by planting a seed of doubt and letting them see me bluff. The key to this strategy was that one of the last two hands had to be strong, and I had to bet heavily when good cards came.
I had an ace in my hand, and elected to take four cards. That would tip them off that I had nothing. As expected I received more shit from our large-breasted dealer. The idea now was to keep playing through the bluff even though I was going to lose the hand. I just hoped the pot wouldn’t get too high.
As expected, those with decent hands kept playing, and in the end I lost the entire 40 dollars I won earlier plus another $30. I tossed down my cards with disgust so that all could see what I had, and that I was bluffing. There was some chuckling at my expense, but that was exactly what I was going for. I thought to myself, “Just stay calm and don’t give them any clues.”
The cards were collected, shuffled, and the next hand was dealt and the poker gods shined on me. I was holding three jacks in my hand. I exchanged two useless cards for two queens. After four hours of sitting at that table, I had my first full house of the evening. It couldn’t have come at a better time. The key now was to keep everybody else playing.
I let the others raise the pot early, but after two folded I took charge and continued to raise at every opportunity. The players who were left in the hand weren’t certain anymore. I hadn’t bluffed once all night until the last hand. Was I bluffing again? The pot had $80 dollars in it and everybody wanted it. I raised $10.
As I had hoped, they stayed in and the pot rose to $130. The call was made and I won the pot. Boobie woman was going postal as I collected the chips. She was so pissed her cussing started to become gibberish and no one could understand her:
“Cock-shitting, pussy planting, ass-cards!”
There was still one hand left to play.
After the final ante, the cards were dealt one last time. I looked at my cards and they were worthless. I had done well and was tempted to fold on the spot and walk away a hundred bucks richer. Safety is after all my nature. Then I considered the situation. They saw me bluff, then they saw me not bluff and win the biggest pot of the night. I can set them up to believe I have another great hand, and they’ll have no idea if I’m bluffing or not.
They asked me for cards to exchange, and I told them I was standing pat with my hand. Eyebrows were raised around the table. Three immediately folded with only my sailor girl staying in to play. She was just about broke. After one $10 raise, she stayed in. I immediately raised twenty dollars which I knew she didn’t have. She was about out of chips, and turned to her husband. He shook his head no, so she tossed her cards into the pot. I could see she was holding two pair which would have easily beaten my hand.
“Fart-faking, cum-cards!”
I gathered the chips from the table and stacked them up. We called it an evening, cashed out, and a few minutes later I was driving home about $170 richer.
Did I tell you I don’t like to gamble?
The host is a friend of mine who I’ve referenced on this blog before. He used to own a couple of titty bars, then cashed out and is sort of semi-retired now. We played tennis together a lot before my knee went bad, but still stay in touch. Since I saw him last, he married one of his dancers, who by the way didn’t look all that sexy at the table. She was wearing a baggy sweat bottoms and a muscle t-shirt with a cigar hanging out of mouth to accessorize. When the cigar wasn’t in her mouth she was cussing like a sailor, which got a laugh out of the guys the first five or six times, then got irritating after a while. My friend gave her the evil eye a few times, but she kept spewing profanity every time she lost a hand or even was dealt a bad card. You could see that she loved the attention, but didn’t have much of a poker face.
The other two guys looked like they were about in their mid-thirties, and couldn’t stop talking about work (technology shop talk). They would tell stories that didn’t go anywhere, so it was pretty easy to tune them out and concentrate on my cards.
It was getting late. Players who were ahead wanted to stop and call it an evening, but those who were down wanted to keep going and play on. I was up about forty dollars, but could have easily called it quits. I’m not a gambler, but I do enjoy the camaraderie and being around people who seem to take it so seriously.
I could care less about playing cards for money. I could have enjoyed the experience playing penny ante or even just playing with the chips. The ante slowly had been raised from a quarter, to fifty cents, to a dollar. Toward the end of the evening, it was proposed to raise the ante to five dollars and play three more hands to expedite closure of the game.
I had played cautiously throughout the night which I believe worked to my benefit toward the end. I’m not an avid poker player by any means, but I have a fairly good memory for cards that have been played, and I’m good with odds and ratios which make up the math component. I don’t bluff often, but when I do I set it up several hands ahead. I hadn’t bluffed once all evening.
The deal went to our potty-mouth girl, and I knew she’d call out five card draw with deuces wild as she’d done twice earlier in the evening. My best game was seven card stud, and I had won several pots early in the evening. 5 card draw wasn’t my favorite, but at least it would all be over soon now. We anted, and then she dealt the cards.
The key in all games of chance is maintaining a high degree of concentration and focus. I noticed as she was dealing, she was leaning acutely over the table so that the guys got a good look at her impressive mammalian protrusions. Her husband had paid for her boob job back in her dancing days, and I must admit my mind strayed from the game for a moment. My friend didn’t seem to mind his wife’s behavior. After all, he figured he was down fifty bucks, and a little distraction just might change his luck.
I sighed softly in admiration of the dealer, and then picked up my hand. It was shit. Earlier in the evening I would have folded and lived to fight another hand. The others knew this, so I thought I might be able to use this to my advantage by planting a seed of doubt and letting them see me bluff. The key to this strategy was that one of the last two hands had to be strong, and I had to bet heavily when good cards came.
I had an ace in my hand, and elected to take four cards. That would tip them off that I had nothing. As expected I received more shit from our large-breasted dealer. The idea now was to keep playing through the bluff even though I was going to lose the hand. I just hoped the pot wouldn’t get too high.
As expected, those with decent hands kept playing, and in the end I lost the entire 40 dollars I won earlier plus another $30. I tossed down my cards with disgust so that all could see what I had, and that I was bluffing. There was some chuckling at my expense, but that was exactly what I was going for. I thought to myself, “Just stay calm and don’t give them any clues.”
The cards were collected, shuffled, and the next hand was dealt and the poker gods shined on me. I was holding three jacks in my hand. I exchanged two useless cards for two queens. After four hours of sitting at that table, I had my first full house of the evening. It couldn’t have come at a better time. The key now was to keep everybody else playing.
I let the others raise the pot early, but after two folded I took charge and continued to raise at every opportunity. The players who were left in the hand weren’t certain anymore. I hadn’t bluffed once all night until the last hand. Was I bluffing again? The pot had $80 dollars in it and everybody wanted it. I raised $10.
As I had hoped, they stayed in and the pot rose to $130. The call was made and I won the pot. Boobie woman was going postal as I collected the chips. She was so pissed her cussing started to become gibberish and no one could understand her:
“Cock-shitting, pussy planting, ass-cards!”
There was still one hand left to play.
After the final ante, the cards were dealt one last time. I looked at my cards and they were worthless. I had done well and was tempted to fold on the spot and walk away a hundred bucks richer. Safety is after all my nature. Then I considered the situation. They saw me bluff, then they saw me not bluff and win the biggest pot of the night. I can set them up to believe I have another great hand, and they’ll have no idea if I’m bluffing or not.
They asked me for cards to exchange, and I told them I was standing pat with my hand. Eyebrows were raised around the table. Three immediately folded with only my sailor girl staying in to play. She was just about broke. After one $10 raise, she stayed in. I immediately raised twenty dollars which I knew she didn’t have. She was about out of chips, and turned to her husband. He shook his head no, so she tossed her cards into the pot. I could see she was holding two pair which would have easily beaten my hand.
“Fart-faking, cum-cards!”
I gathered the chips from the table and stacked them up. We called it an evening, cashed out, and a few minutes later I was driving home about $170 richer.
Did I tell you I don’t like to gamble?
9 年 前