I feel like…

Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. I don’t remember if it was funny or interesting, just that the same shit kept happening to him over and over…

I got to Ocean’s 11 ready to take on the world. There was a seat open in the 5-5 and there was a high stakes “pro” (who would NEVER mismanage his money) in the 2-5. OK whatever, maybe that game is amazing but I’m gonna die someday.

1 of the recreational players asks me, “What, no straddle?” before I can say, “Guys, I’m not going to push the straddle yet because I just got here and I like to take my time when it comes to seduction.”

So we all start straddling.

A cool kid poker pro from Brazil opens UTG and I call A3o on the button. It’s an easy call because this hand is underrated and this kid won’t stack it off like Jack Bauer in an airplane carrying a nuke.

It comes 244hh and he bets the flop and I have the Ah. Hmmm…

I pop it small instead of call because of my straight potential too. He calls and the turn is the Qh. He checks and I bet a good amount and that hand is in the books.

Next hand I pop 85dd in lp and get 2 callers.

Flop is A53hhd and same villain check/calls a small bet (I didn’t know I was bluffing until after he called)…

The turn is a 5, no big deal.

He check/calls a big bet and I start thinking about the Mirage.

The river is an A and I check it back and knock on the table when he shows me AT.

Whatever/doesn’t matter/why am I boring you with this shit?

Because a legend sits down in the open seat on my right. He pounds my fist and says something funny about his dick.

Then he check raises the T72 flop vs my cbet. I call with JT.

The turn is an A and he BOMBS.

Call…

The river is a 5 and he tentatively bets a moderate amount.

I pay off his ten-FIVE…

Very next hand I 3-pop the same man (he calls it his “chode”) with A6cc. He calls with K7cc, we flop a flush draw each, play a big pot, and the river is a 7 (giving him a pair/the best hand easily).

How do I know what his hand is already? Because he bet the river and then got confused and turned his hand over before I could act.

He says, “You know what the right thing to do is…”

I’m thinking, “Fuck, I’m too broke to call here, but I would for sure if I wasn’t…”

And the it dawns on me that he wants me to fold. I don’t think he would call a shove, but I also wouldn’t put it past him (hah, that hand history is a combination of these two hands wtf!). And again, I’m stuck big…

“The Chodester” is so happy I folded he insists I go to the bar with him.

I come back from the bar and run into a miracle, miss the world, and then get weirdly cold-decked for my stack (I flopped top pair + BDFD vs another guy who probably has a funny name for his penis).

Time to drive with a buzz…

Before I can even start to think about how fucking stupid unlucky I am in poker, two CHPs come out of nowhere and blow right past me.

I run hot as fuck in some things…

I reach over to the passenger seat of my car and search for my bag of pistachios with a blind right hand. I figure they will cover up any potential alcohol on my breath a non-zero amount.

And then I remember that DGAF Jr, sweetest and funniest boy there is, ate them earlier in the day as I was taking a 5-minute power nap outside Sky Zone… He’s just the cutest little monkey ever. So innocent. Such a handful. I couldn’t even be mad at him for saying, “Daddy, let’s go in now” every 10 seconds I slept tried to sleep.

And with that-

Fuck it. Let me run dog shit forever in poker. Does. Not. Matter.

 

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