Losing Propositions

Down on my luck last night after lining the pockets of those fucks at the mgm with slightly shy of 300 hard earned dollars, I recieved a call that allowed my luck to take a turn for the better. It was my buddy Chewchiba offering cash games of ping pong, that I initially dismissed in order to get him to up the ante. Realistically, the man is a fucking cash cow. He thinks he can hang with me in shit he clearly cant and due to his poker proceeds is able to basically burn money on moultons mighty backhands. A more accurate pseudonym for him would be Moosy McGoldenudders, so he will henceforth be refered to as such. When Moosy further asserted that our mutual buddy who runs the pokulator website refered to hereafter as Wendy the Webmaster was in town, I told those sons of bitches I was on my way. With the golden calf already into me for two hundred fifty from an unrelated easter egg hunt, I figured I could run it up ten at a time if he kept stepping into the rec room with a paddle and a prayer.
When I got there, the cud chewer had taken his normal station on the couch playing somewhere in the neighborhood of 5 multi table tournaments on party poker and pounding bowls the entire time. I said my hellos to wendy, and he was happy to have a distraction other than the sedentary dairy producer and his roommate who we will call floyd out of respect for brad pitts role in the blockbuster hit True Romance. Floyd is arguably the laziest person I know, and thats saying something. He literally just sits in a house he pays no part of the rent for, gets high, and watches movies. He doesnt do this while on vacation, at this point its a lifestyle choice that he has made and has no cause to correct. I offered to buy him a day planner and pay him five dollars if he penciled in “Get High” every single day of the year and then carried it around so that whenever anyone asked what he was doing on a certain date, he could pull out his planner and apologetically say that he was already indisposed on that particular date. In many ways I pity Floyd, but in many more tangible ways I am insanely jealous of a situation I have myself lived and I look upon his plight with nostalgia more than anything.
After making the proper gentlemanly introductions, I started riding Moosy about his complete lack of hand eye coordination, and began the enragement process that would result in a guaranteed windfall for moulton. Sometimes, it almost feels like it would be less morally reprehensible to just steal the money from his wallet while he sleeps than to subject him to the torture of barely losing every game. Regardless, I started playing cash games of connect four with Wendy and threw the first couple to ensure I would get action later on when it counted. As I splashed my game discs all over the shop, I concentrated on baiting my immobile target seated to my right into a big money game of table tennis. It took losses of around ten bucks as wendy repeatedly formed foursomes in my eye, but eventually the bear fell into his trap. One game, fifty bucks, but we gotta play right now.
I raced to the garage stadium and forced Floyd to warm me up while McGoldenudder tried to reconcile his various tourney stacks and relay instructions to his understudy Wendy. I was throwing fucking rocks dude, the looping backhand topspin shot was falling at will, and wasnt no one in that house that could have beat me spotting them ten points. By the time Moosy lumbered out to join the warmups, shit was already beyond sunk. He had changed into these comical iverson mesh shorts as if attire would be the deciding factor in our matchup, I laughed my ass off upon seeing the shit and announced “the answer is in the building” as Floyd scurried off to retrive another of my backhand winners. Moosy was literally shaking as he saw my prowess, and was very close to taking a thirty dollar buy out before a point was even played. Bad judgement got the best of him and we trudged onward, with the contest only ever being as close as I allowed it to be. As we competed in extended rallies, I would run my mouth the entire time and whenever I got him to laugh, you knew he was gonna hit the shit wide left. In the end the scoreboard read 21-16, and I had run up his tally to 3 big bills.
The kid got paid and the excuses started flowing as our fallen king retook his large cushioned throne and began trying to chase his losses online. Right about here is when my goading switches from playful and friendly to downright dickheaded. So insistent was I in telling my prey that I hadnt even brought my A game that dude agreed to a seven game series for a hundred dollars in exchange for me betting him two hundred that he couldnt finish top twenty on the party poker tournament leaderboard for may. Not only did I lock up my boy ben franklin for a series thats over before it begins, but aint no way this fuck is gonna be able to make the meteoric rise he anticipates at online gaming neither. He may have the talent, but he sure as shit dont have the follow through, and the abundance of loopholes is almost mind numbing. The most glaring current plan of attack is to stalk him online and type HES BLUFFING every time he makes a big bet and my spy Floyd lets me know shit aint legit, but I doubt that any such tactics will be necessary.
Once I took back my pride and the belt from Wendy at connect four, I was ready to take this party to the streets and wasnt nobodys laziness gonna stop us. I would compare getting these two potheads ready for interactions with society to dressing a couple toddlers to go out on a snowday. Moosy all but screamed “But moooooooom, my booties dont fit right” as he tried to find reasons not to hit a bar. Finally, we made our way through the bat cave to the Casino Royale around one in the AM and abused their underpriced jagr shots to get our minds where they needed to be. When then headed onward through the Harrahs piano bar, we didnt take to the older crowd and moved instead to the nearby Carnival Court. Therin, we continued to drink aggressively and Wendy decided to test my resolve. He had located a pair of coeds who defined the classic beauty befriending a beast mentality and the webmaster asked to enlist my help. Im never one to fear the grenade, so I put on my gameface and got the fuck out there.
We started dancing with the two and trying to seperate them accordingly. Though I busted out some of my best moves, for some strange reason they didnt take. Wendy was doing just fine with his mark, but my beheometh wasnt feeling it. Being denied by a grenade is tantamout to getting rejected from community college, and a lesser man would have let that lessen his resolve. Not I said the fly, with that first hint of rejection fresh in my mind and the repeated shots hitting my motor functions, I took a full lap through the field. Shit culminated in me telling some cute ass short chick with a boyfriend “play coy all you like, you know you want this”, as we exited for a long delayed feast at the Peppermill.
Wendy was riding high off his belief that he was a modern don juan, and he immediately started hitting on our middle aged asian waitress when we were first seated. He made some comment about her thai name but korean facial features that sounded like a bunch of bullshit but turned out to be accurate. We secured the first round of milkshakes, and he continued to proposition the various hired help as well as the random hookers who were there with their clients. One such working girl was a tall blonde who was stacked up top, and she passed just as the waitress was taking our order. Wendy spoke quickly as he said, “the four of us just had a vote, and four out of four said you were hotter than that blonde.” She gave a customary laugh, but before she could enjoy the moment a stoned Moocow chimed in “I havent voted yet.” There are some men who have tact, and some who open their damn mouths with nothing but downside attached, and I assure this man was not trying to make a joke but rather thought that such a prestigous vote as diner waitress vs prostitute required due process. Angered by this show of disrespect, Wendy bet McGoldenUdder ten dollars that he could get the hostess to sit with us in our booth. With Wendy at an interior spot and Moosy controlling one of the aisles, my aisle seat immediately became prime real estate. I was made five dollar offers from both sides to either stand pat or scoot, and I decided to side with the guys with white hats, moving inward and watching a successful Wendy work his magic. Five to him, five to me, and even after we had to split up the cost of Floyds meal between us, it was still a very successful maiden voyage to the Peppermill for me.
I floundered home and passed out around six in the AM, getting awoken at noon by a business minded Wendy. He had to get to the Bellagio to utilize his press pass for the main event of the five star classic that was now entering day two. He had me tag along to see how life was in the lime light, but moreso cause he needed a ride. We got in there, and were immediately immersed in poker royalty, with all the big names having come out for this WPT event. I was shocked by his familiarity with these people I had glorified on his tv screen. Not only did he say his hellos to a bunch of such heroes, but both Liz Lieu and Joe Sebok went out of their way to say hi to him when he hadnt noticed them. His purpose seemed to be mainly rubbing elbows with the other online poker pundits, but he was pretty fucking good at it. Various cute blondes came over to trade secrets with him while sporting tank tops that hyped their websites of choice. When it came time for the first break, we sauntered outside to see what players we could run in to.
Wendy worked his magic while I took a seat on the patio of the fontana bar somewhat overmatched both by my hobo-like garb and mounting hangover. Despite these obstacles, I saw Evelyn Ng hanging out and decided that rather than sit to the side, I might as well say hi. I was fairly confident that she had posted to one of my Ellix Powers stories, and it had not been a forgery, but I had always wanted to know for sure. I introduced myself and when I mentioned the sugarjames shit she said “Oh, You’re Ed Muletan” in an excited enough voice that I was momentarily happy to have taken that plunge, but about then is when I realized that I had absolutely nothing to say. Arguably I was intimidated by her fame, but more likely I was emmasculated by a taller attractive woman because I just dont trust them. We made some awkward conversation which ended with her sneaking back to her inner circle, I had prepared a high-ku to drop, but I didnt really have a way to segway. Imagine the proper page breaks where the commas appear: patio smoke break, devilfish keeps staring at, Steve Danneman’s ass. The players resumed after break and I left Wendy to his devices as I had to tend to those in need of math tutoring. My sting of defeats and triumphs throughout the twenty four hour period of proposition bets and failed introductions, ended with one clear conclusion. A day with action is a day worth living, it dont matter the source.

Losing Propositions

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