The time was 6:12pm. I ventured over to this club; to do a follow up on a resume I faxed over a couple of days before. Meeting went well and everything was now peachy. With a feeling of exuberance, I decided it would be in my best interest to make a bit of money; so I hopped over from Westheimer to the east side to play a bit of cards(as the the west house was raided last Sunday).
There I sat, from 7:30pm to 7am rounding the table through thick, and the very thin. It was at the moment that showed 123 past the new morning when he entered. A man with disgusting physical attributes; 3 day old beard, attire which seemed to have been picked up in the alley behind the building, and a second set of thumbs(no, I am not joking); all complimented by a smell of what I would describe as........doodoo. This man.......This man, is my enemy. By 4am the house was clear of spectators. Whether it be from the fear of great skill and dexterity possessed by myself, or the revolting presence of evil to which sat beside me to the starboard, this I do not know. We dueled to the point of no limit, which I'll admit is a bit frightening bumping from the 40/60. From that point on it was a match I both loathed and loved. Enthralled in my game to the point at which condensation from my bottle of Evian water had dissipated from its origin, forming in a pool of liquid; which the coaster that held its refreshment welcomed........ I was on.
Up eighteen times my buy in, we entered the final match. My pocket was a pair of fours, with a 5, 7 and 8 on the flop.
Now this man has a number of tells, with only two being significant; that which reveals his solid claim, or expected loss to the pot. He taps his pinky, he scratches his left ear; which both have a chaotic order that shows either low pair, two faces, or an ace with a mid. The two definites in his game would be the flare of his nostrills, indicating dissapointment, or the shift of his tongue, which is what I was faced with at this moment. There is absolutely no alteration in expression, and one could easily misconstrue this for an attempt at unwedging a sunflower shell from his teeth; this I know, as I made this mistake within the single digit games of our first meeting. At this time though, I could only presume he was holding consecutive numbers to complete the straight, or a matching number to one that sat on the table in front of us. With a moment of hesitation, I proceeded in matching his bet. The next card presented was the Jack of spades; a most unwelcome addition to the segment. I would exspect a check from the man, but instead he added. I again matched. The following card was drawn with sloth, and hammered the table like an anvil. It was the 6 of hearts, which completed my straight. I knew no way of confirming his pair or possible straight, but he checked the last bet, which was quite a lovely invitation to go all in. An invitation that I accepted. He followed my commitment, leaving a few chips in his grasp(he was up at this point). He glared and smiled, I glared and choked down a volume of saliva, holding my breath from the vile stench he offered. Our cards were layed. My 4, plundering all hopes his 5s ever mustered. His confidence in the triplet was shattered, as the straight layed claim
The following match, though small in stack, ruined his pile; and I adjourned, riding off into the sunrise
Massjunkie...........you will be awed in Vegas, as I take every penny you bring
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Originally Posted by SV-1
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