Anger turns to wrath

I could drop kick a small mammal across a minor body of water right now. Not a lake or a gulf, but certainly a creek or stream, and I dare say a canal. I got a call from my buddy Rick shortly after returning home and he was too drunk to drive, so he wanted me to book his action from his couch, and I obliged. He wanted a parlay of denver and the over, otherwise known as the suckers share. Favorite and the over is how sportsbooks make bank, and I was more than willing to play the role of the house for his wager. I let him put up twenty to win fifty(two less than it should pay) and gave him -8 as his line on Denver and 36 as the over under. With it tied 7-7 at halftime, I was feeling good and picked up Russell at the Nugget to move the game to the Alladin.
He convinced me that no limit was the way to get out of my funk, so I had him spot me two bills to grab a seat. He did likewise, and unfortunately they sat us at the same table. Always kind of awkward when I play at the same table as a friend because they know I like to bet real aggressive and they also know they should probably call with weaker hands than they normally would. For that reason, I end up getting involved in big pots with friends, which is good for no one. There was an unspoken understanding that we would check down pots with just the two of us, but it still made for a loose call or two. I played a nine four off suit in the small blind of an unraised pot and the flop came 9, 7, Q with two diamonds. Someone bet out 10 with four callers, and I figured I might as well take a chance. Turn came four of diamonds, I checked and the original bettor made it twenty. Russell went overtop for 50, and it folded to me. Taking a look back to what I had in the hole, I realized my nine was a diamond, and I pretty much had to call. Other dude folded, and we checked down his ace high flush draw with a made queen to pass the pot to my two pair.
After that victory, I doubled up by slowplaying a flopped set and was sitting pretty with 400 in chips. The table chatter started to be more prevelant with this one babbling fuck sitting two to my right. He would tell those stories that no one could possibly find interesting and laugh at the end as though he was the fucking king of comedy. Something along the lines of “It was so funny, we were all partying one night and todd, you have to know todd, he does stuff like this, it was like 5 in the morning and styx came on the radio and we were all dancing and then todd started singing.” After that incoherent piece of boredom he would crack up and get ready to spin another yarn. One of the most asinine individuals I had ever sat at a table with and just the kind of guy who needs to be slapped in the face. The slap came when Russell claimed to be a current resident of Hawaii, and the kid started one of his kneeslappers “Oh, cool, hawaii, one of my friends used to live out on awahoo.” Before he could continue, Russell gave him a death stare and deadpanned “Do I look like I give a fuck about your friend in Hawaii.” He held the face for about ten seconds with the kid looking like he was going to cry, then Russell just said “Im kidding man” while the table continued to erupt in laughter at this douchebag. He proceeded to hemorage all of his chips and say good playing with you to just about everyone.
Meanwhile, a new player had taken the seat to my left and was by far the most nervous person I had ever seen. There was a mist of armpit sweat enveloping his being, and on the second hand he played, he started breathing real heavy. I was holding an ace nine of diamonds I had raised to ten preflop and put him on a bluff, when the flop came KJ10 with one diamond. Turn brought another diamond, and I let him bet it before seeing the river completely blank me. He bet out and I put him all in, with him calling KJ two pair. From there, I realized that he only breathed heavy when he had a hand, and the whole table was milking this fuck for his share. He tried to throw some poker banter out there like a toughguy, and everyone at the table basically knew he was dead money. He was down to 50 bucks when he went overtop of my twenty dollar raise all in preflop. Deadly calm, I knew he wasnt holding a monster so I called him down with pocket threes and watched him catch a queen on the flop to beat me.
To my right a new player sat down, and was quite clearly intoxicated even before he began speaking. He was holding one of those heineken keg cans and talked in whisper shouts that spoke to the fact that he had been partying so long he no longer had functioning vocal cords. It was hard to pick up the exact origin of his accent, but he clearly didnt bleed red white and blue. “Ey, This is a big beyer”, he said in reference to his keg can and proceeded to tell stories about playing poker for 18 hours straight the day before. You would have needed an interpreter to understand what the fuck he was saying, but you could catch a few words here or there and try to maintain a conversation. After playing a couple hands, including one I took him down on, he turned to me and said “Ey, Im a jailor.” I laughed a little and responded “Jailor, I dont even know if thats a real term. Do you look after a corner of the monopoly board and make sure that the people who are just visiting dont slip the inmates any contraband?” He didnt understand that I was joking and replied “Ey, A jailor, see. Im in charge of the keys and keepin um locked up.” “So are they just running free right now, with you gone, is there some sort of crime wave in your hometown with the long arm of the law playing poker?” “Ey, Im from england.” Russell chimed in and asked “You’re not from new york?” The guy got all pissed off and started defending his country of origin, and hardly realized that he was playing in a poker game with his loose calls.
We were also joined by an elder statesman who seemed like he had come specifically to give all his money away. He was dark raising 25 bucks under the gun of a one two blinds no limit game which meant he was risking 25 to win 3 everytime he was under the gun. He would tip the dealer like five bucks a hand, and clearly did not care about the small fluctuation in net wealth that this game represented. The English guy got to calling him Tony Bennett, though the resemblance wasnt that strong, and would aggressively declare things like “Ey, Tony Bennet is betting into me, must have a hand”, when he very clearly had bet blind.
What Im trying to say is that there was a lot of fucking action. At least 4 of the ten people at the table had no fucking clue what was going on and were basically giving away their chips. I could not catch a break, staying pretty even and never passing the 400 dollar mark. I lost 30 when tony bennet raised 30 preflop blind to my king jack suited and the only guy left to act after me went all in over the top with queens. I laid it down and watched my king hit, making me nothing but angry. Slowly, all the fish started busting out and we were left with 5 big stacks and a bunch of empty chairs. I only had 320 in front of me, and that was about middle of the pack even though the max buy was 200. None of us really liked the situation because everyone was good players, but we fought through and got a couple more people to join in.
In the meantime I called a ten dollar preflop bet with king seven clubs and had the flop come ace seven nine with two clubs. I called down the same guy who had made the move with queens hoping to get lucky and then for value with his small bet on the river. He flipped ace low kicker and I was fucked.
Still steaming, I was happy to see the englishman return with a fresh bankroll and proceed to chat it up with his estranged tablemates. The englishman was in the small blind, my nemesis big blind, and I was on the button with 7-10 offsuit. One caller to me and I threw in my two bucks with the englishman folding and big blind checking. Flop comes J-9-8 rainbow so I flop a straight. Two checks to me and I bet out ten bucks, with two calls. Turn comes ace and again it checks to me when I bet twenty bucks, only one call from a man from whom I desperately want to win my money back. I am cheering for a blank and I get it when the river comes four. He bets out 25, and I am counting my money, I put out his twenty five and an additional 50 after which he goes all in. There was literally only one hand that beat me which I noted as I called, right before he flipped the dreaded queen ten. Over five hundred dollars in the pot and I just stormed out of the room ready to numb my senses with some sort of narcotic.
Im really not sure whether it would be worse to lose the way I did or have someone get lucky on you at the river. I dont know that anyone could have avoided that flopped sucker straight, but you can be damn sure its all Im thinking about. I was out 150 on the morning, 50 to my buddy rick’s parlay, and 200 to that lucky fatass fuck who kept hitting hands on me. 400 dollars out of the Moultonian account that rarely shows a balance in excess of five hundo. Fuck. Bunch of fucking fish at that table playing like god damn idiots and I got to walk home a fucking loser. Clearly, Im not going to bet any football tommorrow although I will post the picks I would have made so you guys can laugh at either my further incompetance or the fact that I could have made it all back if I just grew some balls. Realistically, its lose/lose.

Anger turns to wrath

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