Deep-fried

In the process of sending letters and CVs to various local colleges and universities. It’s a tedious process, especially given the assessment that I write cover letters like English is my second language. Not too far from the truth as I was weaned on German translations and voices in my head. DW suggested a break, maybe a little poker. I removed my belt, wrapped it around my left bicep and searched for a vein.

I wasn’t in the mood for comraderie, let alone people of any ilk, so I thought I’d try out the bots at Poker Academy. I hadn’t played them but once since getting the software three and a half years ago. So, I pulled up a full ring NLHE table and set out on my 150 hands per hour romp. I played off and on through the afternoon, evening and midnight hour.

If one busts out of said game, one can opt to reload, and while I never was felted, I did reload three times early on when my stack approached 50BBs. The bots have no such option, and when stacked, they sit and watch the remainder. I set myself a goal. I would be the last one standing.

Heads up took 500 hands, or thereabouts, even with my 2:1 chip advantage. I was in the zone, yet towards the end, I was zoned. Cause for celebration. Woo hoo. So empty.

Geez, 12:30. What to do now? Go to PA and chat with friends while playing a little $50NL. I mention my game with the bots. Equally non-plussed. The bots are easy prey. Yes, I realized early that I would come out victorious. Where’s the fun in that?

I was not so certain of success at this table. Patience was gone, head was fuzzed up, so I pleaded a coma and left. And went to Stars. First hand I tripled up when my flopped str8 actually survived a set and flush draw.

I could have left right then and there.