Don’t be shy. Step right up. Or watch your step. Yes, you there, sir, so drunk that the bar rail is the only thing between you and the floor. Good save!
For a second it looked as if he had been assigned to the table I was sitting at. “”Roger, you’re over here, table 3.” Whew.
By the add-on, Roger had half of the chips at his table. Play enough poker and you see this sort of thing. Just like beginner’s luck. Call anything and hit. Roger’s broken record: “Anybody could have won that hand. I’m just here to have fun. How much is the bet? What color do I put out? How many? What are my cards? I have twenty-one! Blackjack! I’m just having fun.”
For those of you who don’t know… oh, wait a minute, all of my twelve readers already know that I live out in the middle of nowhere, next door to almost the middle of nowhere that boasts a population of 7700 residents. God bless them, for half of them appear to be closely related to each other.
Roger is Jim’s brother who is Trudy’s father and Trudy is married to Rick. And now that I look closely, I can see the resemblance between Trudy and Glory who works at the local liquor store. They’re all in attendance, and a matter of fact, they’re all throwing them back like there’s no tomorrow. Roger just has a good head start on the fun.
Good old-fashion fun and four minute hands with 15 minute rounds. Not surprising that by the final table everyone was gunning for him. I left when he was heads up with a 2 to 1 chip lead against Skunk. (If Skunk takes it down, we’ll hear about it for 3 weeks and he’ll expect a fist-bump each time he tells the story. I hate the fist-bump as much as when greeting someone, they ask “Whassup?” Tell me when I start sounding like Poker Grump.)
Let’s see…what else? Oh, I got to see a woman’s butt crack. It looked just like a plumber’s ass. You know, flat and all smooshed together, no shape at all. Just a thin line of demarcation between two hemi (and I do mean hemi) spheres. Come to think of it, it was Trudy’s intrusion on my delicate aesthetic sensibilities.
I had my chance to put a sizable dent in Roger but missed it. I had 67o in the SB, the blinds were 2K and all other players at the final table had limped. I decided to fold as I only had about 10K behind. Of course the flop had 45 and the turn was an 8. By the river the pot was around 35K. Roger won with TPTK. Shortly thereafter I was down to one BB, hit the second best pair on the flop and called my dear wife to say I would be home soon.
When I get home, she asks, “I’m never go to see the inside of that bar, am I?”
“No, I don’t think so, honey. I wouldn’t do that to you.”