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| It was supposed to be the easiest going nights of the week.
Just rest, relaxation and nothing more. A good old Friday
night with a couple of beer buddies, checkin some flicks on
TV, playin a bit of poker – as usual – actin up all tough
and rough gathering a few empty whiskey glasses by our left
hands by the end of the evening. The scene was just right
for it, perfumed and warm early summer air flowing in through
the open balcony-door, and the whole buddily chitter-chatter
of people who have known each other for most of their lives
all engulfed in a warm soothing feeling provided by the fact
that noone had anything to wake up to early ,the following
day. Nothing was to foretell the nature of the events that
were about to unfold. We usually played poker
for toothpics or matches as we didn't want bad blood amongst
ourselves, and money usually has its ways of inducing just
that between long time buddies. Just as we settled to it,
I stepped out to fetch some booze and as I got back the only
place left free for me was of course the one under the gun.
I wasn't overly pissed though as it was only supposed to be
a friendly hold'em party ,so it had no real importance whether
I won or lost. As we went through the first few hands one
of the Guys, Jake, a big, bear-like fella with a constant
3-day-stubble ( never figured out how he could constantly
keep it looking 3 days old), and who was generally looked
upon as the definition of a „Rock” said: „why don't yous guys
give it a shot and play for real money for a change”. He got
dissed the instant he opened his mouth. „ whaddayamean „yous
guys” ? Aintcha gonna play too? Stead of havin these great
ideas you oughtto work your fat body more, rather than that
fat engulfed brain of yours „ and so forth and so on. But
the seed of dissent was already sown in the gang. Mario, a
wiseguy ( or rather a wiseguy wannabe) was the first to pick
up the glove. „ yeah, why don't we?? or are you just a bunch
of sissies afraid to put your money where your mouth is?”
There was a general uproar, but to make a long story short
: we ended up playing for money. These guys were the last
ones I'd ever have wanted to play for money. For a number
of reasons. But there we were already eyeing each-other and
looking mean as hell, adrenaline and testosterone were flowing
and there was no backing out. Each and every one of us had
leaks in our game, but the worst thing was we pretty much
all knew each other's leaks and strongpoints too. „ this is
where the real men come out to play” said Mario with a heavier
than usual italian accent his face burning with an expression
I only saw a couple of times in situations that took him to
the limit. „Ayt it's on then” said Steve, the skinny wiry
haired dealer - who secretly believed he was by far the best
poker player of us all, but in fact he always carried his
pocket pairs way too far. Jake aka Bear nervously wigled a
bit in his chair, a move that almost caused the poor piece
of furniture to give up the seemingly endless struggle for
existance it'd been fighting since Jake had settled down.
Prash, ( whose entire name I could never fully learn to say
– God forgive me for that) started to crack his knuckles –
a gesture that he knew was sure to drive us all nuts. Steve
dealt. Prash and Mario started trying to steal the blind to
the point that they almost got hold of each other's throats.
Everyone else just kind of limped in. I knew Mario wasn't
really a challenge to fend off as he was way too competitive
about anything to represent a real threat. I identified Bear
as my main source of danger and started focusing on his actions.
I started to play stronger after the flop and Steve and Bear
followed closely. After the turn Mario started cursing like
there was no tomorrow. He suddenly stood up knocking the chair
back and stormed out to grab some more booze, - or rather
in his own words” I need to go out or I can just feel I'm
gonna slap one of yous sissies to smithereenies” „ I guess
that means Mario is out „ said Steve, „ yeah, so am I,” said
Prash with a long face, as I started laughing wildly. „ well
so much for the suckers, let's move on.” Steve too folded
following the turn, so it was down to Bear and I to fight
it out after the river.
I raised and knew that Bear - being the rock that he was –
would probably betray his hand. As you probably know the rock
has a habit of constantly raising when in posession of a strong
hand. If he kept raising , he'd most probably win. And he
raised with a dumb conceited face I felt like I oughtta smack.
I was down. Steve - who remained seated at the table started
giggling. „ Well” - I said - „ I suppose this is where the
fat lady sings” and folded as the large man at the table raised
again. As soon as I folded Bear errupted in laughter, and
finally stood up as I swear I could hear a sigh of relief
coming from the direction of his chair. He threw his hand
on the board. He had NOTHING. A pair actually but NOTHING
more. I felt like I wasn't seeing all that well, colored circles
dancing in front of my eyes. I was kind of expecting that
one of his cards change or something or that the ceiling collapse
over us but nothing happened. The single reasonable explanation
I can think of is I got 110 percent taken by Bear's pokerface.
Who would've believed that? |
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