Upcoming Main Event - Tunica - My Picks & Wild Cards

The main event for Harrah's Tunica WSOPCE begins exactly one week from today. I will be there, all three days.  Wearing my cool Bustout Gear, doing press coverage for Ante Up.  So come by and tell me anything but your horrific bad beat story and I'll see if I can't work it into my column.

There are a ton of great players coming in for this event, and I'm going to mention a few.. so when one of them takes it down I can say "Hey! Look! I predicted this! I am so awesome!".

Obviously, I don't have a crystal ball and I don't know everyone who is coming to town. I do know, amongst my friends, who definitely has the ability to run deep.  So we'll call this "Jen's List of Anticipated Cashes in the Main Event-Tunica".


We'll start with Kai Landry.  This kid is hot. And I'm not just talkin' about his Hollywood smile or his enticing frontal lobe. If you're playing against him, don't mistake his pensive expression for deep poker related thoughts.. he's more than likely thinking about how he's going to appropriately shit talk you in his next blog.  He'll be so funny about it though, that you won't mind. He's the master of backhanded compliments. He's a delight to watch at the table and he has made no secret about his plans to "Grover Cleveland" this event. Which I can only assume is a reference to his desire to take this sucker down in both 2009 and 2011 (As Cleveland did with his two non-sequential presidential elections), and not in fact a reference to some weird fetish that involves dying of mouth cancer. Check out Kai's blog for delightful posts after the fact.  (On a side note, Kai took home a flashy $183K with his first place win of this same event in 2009.  He only spent half of it on hookers.)

Next is Bob Talbot.  He had a rough run in Durant, but he's hell on wheels (literally) at the poker table.  He tore it up at the IP in Biloxi, and I have every confidence he'll find success this time around in Tunica. I don't think there are many people playing in this part of the country who don't know Bob, or haven't gone up against him yet at the table. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Al Theriac.  He's one of my favorites of my favorites.  He's on fire.  I interviewed Al for Ante Up Magazine last month after his win at the Magnolia Classic Main Event.  He told me then he's "Doing this for the old folks".  He's 72, he's a fantastic poker player, and I adore his wife. What started out as a story has now turned into a friendship and I have every confidence that he'll take home something for his efforts in Tunica.

Mike Shafer.  Another really solid player who I have come to adore.  I met Mike the first time at Scotty's final table at the IP in Biloxi, and not only is this guy about 40% nuts.. you'd never peg him to be a serious card player. He's chatty, he's wired, he's all over the place.. and he's slowly takin' your chips while he's doing it. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised at another final table from this guy.  For the sake of odd trivia, he's also Uncle Kracker's brother. Seriously. And he calls Scotty "Creepy" or "The Creeper". Which cracks me up.

Scott Williams.  Oh shut up.  Like any of you didn't see THIS coming.  Of course, I saved my personal favorite.. and the best, for last. He's due for his big breakout cash.  He's one hell of a card player, the funniest person alive, and one of my best friends. I heart this guy. I have 100% faith in his ability to do great things and considering he only started playing the circuit events in August of '10 (Do you have any idea how much I had to BEG him to get him to come play?), he's off to a good start. If he manages a final table, I will be the absolutely spastic crazy girl with the camera on the rail. I may even make a glittery T-Shirt. As most of our mutual friends know, the day he takes down a WSOP ring.. I get partial custody of it. I NEED a shiny piece of jewelry.  

So these are my picks. I have a few wild card's I'd like to mention.  They aren't going to make the upper tier of my picks because I haven't spent enough time around any of them to really vouch first hand for their ability.. but something about them makes them worth mentioning.  Ross Bybee:  I met him at the IP in Biloxi, he's a genuinely nice guy and I expect him to run deep.  Aaron Johnson:  I've played against him a few times at Horseshoe.  He's become a friend, he's hysterically entertaining and if he lays off the captain and coke, he's a very very solid card player. And finally.. some odd little critter who looks to be about 21 years old and is nicknamed "Choctaw".  I'll be keeping an eye on him.



I know there are a lot of you I didn't mention. Some of you, I may not even know you plan on playing.  I hope I know all 9 of the last 9 standing and that the above mentioned are among them. If any of you manage to win it, I expect you to take me to dinner. I will attribute my positive luck vibes to your success.  If all of you manage to bust out in the first level, I will delete this blog post faster than you can say Jinx. ;)

Good luck!

<3,
Jen



'37- Bustout - Nirvana - GCP - Beth Gains

Last Tuesday I invited a handful of friends out to Harrah's '37 for dinner.  Unfortunately, this coincided with SNOWPACALYPSE or at least, the threat of an apocalyptic snowstorm.. that though it never occurred, definitely caused a 50 degree temperature drop in 24 hours and scared the daylights out of everyone.  We still had a great turnout though, all things considered. Our group included the Rice's family, several of my Horseshoe friends/coworkers, Ross Bysbee, Bob Talbot, Jeff Griffith of Bustout Poker, Jason Brady and of course.. Scotty and I.

The only one I hadn't met in person yet was Jeff Griffith, and I include here for your delight and amusement the one picture I was able to take (It was really dark), of Jeff participating in the consumption of not one, but six cheesecakes. I'm sure he'll find this photo as flattering as I do. I really wish I'd been able to get more photos from the occasion, but really, I've been in caves that had better natural lighting than this restaurant.  The food, however, was great and the company was even better. A+++ to the service at '37.  Next time I've got 20 friends and need to feed them, you're top on my list.

Business was discussed, but certainly wasn' the topic of conversation.  We also delighted in Jason Brady's sweater.  Argyle. It's making a comeback. On the topic of business, the recent success of Bustout poker came up. Because this particular partnership is exciting to me (A merging of the greatest poker publication on the shelf, and my favorite poker apparel company), I will plug it here.  Everyone should check out the Ante Up Bustout Store. I'm generally not one to plug other people's products, but this is one I can get behind.  Not only is Team Bustout featuring some of my personal friends and people I genuinely look up to, but the owners.. Jeff and Nikki are two pretty fantastic people and their contribution to the poker industry is significant. Significant enough that I invite you to approach me the next time you see me at an event, and if you're wearing your bustout gear, I want a picture with you so I can sing your praises on my facebook/blog/at random card tables.

The night was concluded with more business talk in a fairly deserted bar at The Goldstrike.  During this conversation, Jeff shared that he despises Nirvana. Though I didn't really get into it, I too share these sentiments.  He went on to elaborate that he despises them SO much that he'll change the station if they come on. Proving, once again, that God has a special place in his heart for poker players.. like magic, Goldstrike becomes infiltrated with the nerve grating riffs of "Come as you Are".  I once ended a fairly successful relationship with someone who is still on my facebook (Love you doll!) because I couldn't get past the Kurt Cobain poster over his bed. Really. It was a comical ending to a successful evening.

EDIT: (Because it took less than twenty minutes for my Nirvana lovin' Ex to contact me about this blog post, I should add that he's an amazing man and this was written to be funny. It was the distance, not necessarily Kurt. Though.. I'm still not a fan of Kurt. ;) ).

I will be adding a new link to this blog. One that most of you will be pretty familiar with, and if you aren't familiar with it.. you need to GET familiar with it.  I am joining the Gulf Coast Poker family of bloggers and I couldn't be happier about having my literary travesties hung out beside the likes of Poker Monkey and Kai Landry. These two fellows could write a grocery list and it would fully entertain me.

I will also be blogging on Beth Gain's new site, which has plans to launch sometime next week. (??).  Beth "Betyamama" Gains of "Eat Play Love" Poker Fame is not only talented (And hot!), but I like what she's doing with women and poker and I'm happy to be involved in her newest project. I will be including more details and appropriate links when that's live as well.

The new job at Horseshoe is going swimmingly.  I love the people I work with, I love the regulars, and right now I'm so completely overwhelmed with the amount of information I'm having to digest that I can't even possibly write more about it.. except to say, come see me at Horseshoe! I love when I hear from you guys, and nothing makes a night at work more enjoyable that seeing familiar faces. <3

See you all in Tunica!

Jen

Poker Politics - Welcome to the Corporation

The poker world is divided into two distinct columns.  The production side and the performance side.  The production side of the house is reserved for employees who keep the industry well tended, the media who provide the coverage so sought after by players and the organizations keeping things moving fluidly to the best of their ability.

The performance side is reserved for any player with enough money in his or her pocket to pull up a chair.

Regardless of what circuit you're playing or in what card room, this is one big monopolizing corporation with no address or company directory. 

So far, I haven't met anyone I can't work with. (Well, with the exception of Rogers. But that's a whole other issue!) One thing I'm astounded by are the politics of poker. On both sides of the house. The more successful you become on the poker food chain the more your name gets swept up in scandal.  Throw out a name, any name, and I can find you someone who has an awful scandalous story they're just dying to share over cocktails.  Some of these stories even involve incriminating evidence, a weed eater and the types of edible toppings you'd find suitable for an ice cream sundae. I'm not kidding.

The bigger the name, the bigger the drama and scandals. Its the sort of scenarios that you'd expect on an episode of Survivor or in a fraternity house.

I was told, almost ominously by someone recently that it was just a matter of time before someone in the industry hates me too. This said after I pointed out that I have no scandal and I have no issue with any one individual. I put a great deal of thought into this, because I already have my ideal road map lined out, and I'd like to make my way without stepping on any one's toes. What a girl mentality too, to exist in a highly competitive and cutthroat world and genuinely expect to do so without getting swept up in the negative dynamics.

Another friend of mine uses the term "Poker Mafia".  This is humorous to me, because I absolutely see what he's talking about. I suppose this is to be expected when you exist in a world where the color of your card determines your worth and viability.

So if we're all to be swept up in scandal, I would like to go on record in advance... that I'd prefer mine to be the type that involves a weed eater and edible toppings.  I'm not much for backstabbing or playing favorites. I'm going to continue to form my own opinions about people in this machine based on my specific interactions. Don't get me wrong, I love hearing the stories just as much as the next person.. but I've also seen how sky lining yourself in this industry can have an impact that is virtually irreversible.

A memorable dinner I can't remember and ladybug rocks.

This past week needs a bulleted list to sum up.

• I quit my job at Southland as the Poker Room Manager and accepted a position with Horseshoe Tunica as a floor supervisor/jack of all trades in their poker room. I start tomorrow. Go me.
• Scott and I each played two events in Biloxi, I cashed none, he cashed one. I fail.
• Scott and I had dinner at BR Prime with Monkey, Chad Brown, Kai Landry, Claudia "The Claw" Crawford and two floor/dealer people who shall remain anonymous. This dinner revealed several things.
• Lemon Creme Brulee = Not so good.
• Chad was a gangsta in High School.
• Kai is delighted by spinach leaves
• Wine can actually be described as "leathery"
• You can make the waitstaff in a AAA rated 4 star restaurant laugh by saying the words "Chicken Dick".  Repeatedly.
• $1,000 is the approx. cost for 8 people to gorge themselves on an extravagant meal, and then tip appropriately.
• BR Prime does not in fact serve oysters from Seattle and their name is not "Six".
• (1) Margarita, (1) Double Captain and Coke (1) Malibu Slammer (1) Shot of Patron (many) glasses of wine (1) Amaretto Sour (2.5) Red Snappers happens to be the exact amount of alcohol it takes for me to be obnoxious enough to get pushed out of bed, fully clothed, onto the floor where I will proceed to lay and talk shit for the following thirty minutes.
• Saw Vince Neil in concert with Scott.  He put on a hell of a show for the 40 minutes he could be bothered to perform.  20 minutes it was just his band, and then the show was just over. It was overly disappointing but we managed to have fun the short while we were there.

Now, to the not so bulleted list.  Monk has a great blog post (Available Here) about the politics behind him being prohibited from playing in the Southern Championship.  I can't write a whole lot about this because of politics, and unlike him.. I am not in a position to speak entirely freely about the powers that be in poker.  I have to keep things civil if I want to keep my sources open for writing.  But he was missed, and the poker room was decidedly more dull without his presence.

My friend Scott and I have always had a pretty open and honest relationship.  That night, with the tequila and the butt prints on the mirrors? He got every gory detail. My on again off again flirtation with a maniacal man who may very well be the devil, he eventually gets all the details too.  And then, out of nowhere, he shows up at the poker table with a little painted rock card protector . A blue ladybug rock.  This rock is so gay, it made me want to sing show tunes. Which means one of a few things are possible. 1.. This rock is a gift. From a lady friend. And he's withholding information. It would have to be a lady friend because absolutely no respectable male would be associated with this bug rock.  2. He bought this rock himself. In which case, this is the single most embarassing thing I can think of.  3. He painted it himself.  Strike number two off the list as the single most embarassing thing I can think of. 

Either way, this stupid rock has ruined my life.  It means that there is something I don't know, and I HATE not knowing. More importantly, it means that I may need to start accepting applications for Scott's replacement.  Because, as we all know, nothing good comes after a man shows up with a ladybug rock.

If you would like to apply for the position, please send all applications to JenniferGay@hotmail.com. Job description includes: A willingness to take lengthy obscure trips to play poker in random destinations, be willing to be introduced as my cousin/brother/lover/ex/the homeless person I picked up on the side of the road/BFF alternately as needed and an open mind about glitter, high heels and assless leather chaps.

If for some reason we manage to survive the tragedy that is the ladybug rock, I will keep suitable applications on file for a year as possible alternates.  Scott is getting on up there in the years, and it never hurts to have a backup plan just in case a hip goes out.

Sex and Poker. The Genitalia Buffet.

If you're a female poker player and can't manage to get laid, there is something seriously wrong with you.  Poker is a veritable man buffet, and not a crappy buffet either.  Sure, there are the prerequisite six day old food selections that smell bad and are crunchy. But there are also King Crab legs, Prime Rib and Oysters Rockefeller.  Every single day.

As with most buffets there is an understanding in advance that there is no take-out box.  You better enjoy as much as you like while you're there.  And don't bother trying to sneak a dinner roll home in your purse either, because you'll quickly find out that a lot of these man-delicacies are not so delightful outside the brick and mortar. A lot of them who were business owners, pro poker players and real estate investors over a vodka cranberry the night before, under the harsh light of a non-synthetic sun, are actually unemployed and quite often married. Which isn't a terrible thing, really, the deception.. because what is the allure and grandeur of the casino industry if not based in illusion?

For the most part, I avoid the buffet. I don't play poker to hook up and I almost always stick to my policy of "Nothing good happens in a casino after 12 am". Most male poker players have little game off the felt, when confronted with a female is witty, can hold her own and doesn't irritate the daylights out of them in a tournament. However, we're all human, and who hasn't had a night of indiscretions in an environment where cocktails flow free-ly and money is the lubrication for all things.

This lifestyle is not conducive to having a relationship. Or a marriage, really. Not that anyone really wants to be married these days.  In a relationship where both people play poker, both have to be financially stable and fairly evenly talented or problems will arise. There is nothing worse than dealing with someone who has an inflated perception of their ability, or an absolute inability to finance their own ventures. Its equally challenging to balance a relationship with someone who does NOT play, and try to work out the nuances of a 4 day bender or bad runs - while still garnering the support a dedicated player needs.

So with all that being said, from time to time, the man buffet starts to look appealing.  Even if its just temporary satisfaction rather than long term gratification.

In the interest of full disclosure, as a public service to all of you men (and women) I will call upon my two most significant indiscretions (which happen to be the total of the last year and a half). One of these two did just about everything wrong (see the following list) but was hot enough to be forgiven. The other did almost nothing wrong, and if I run into him in daylight somewhere as long as it isn't in a church, I might even enjoy it. Consider this my list of what NOT to do when trying to run game on a fellow card player regardless of gender.

-  Do not lie about your name, location, cash record or tournament wins.  We all have google on our phones now, and depending on where we're seated in the casino and approx. how many bars we have, we will know in less than thirty seconds just how full of shit you are. Plus, we probably don't care anyway.  Our level of care will directly correlate to exactly how attractive you are, and how much we've had to drink.

- Poker is a small world. We're all going to see each other again. Probably soon. Its a really good idea to have a basic, quick discussion about that and try to sort out the stalker-likelihood you're dealing with.  One time, ages ago, I let some whack job buy me a cocktail after a tournament. We talked, he was creepy, I bailed. Apparently he took my abrupt departure as "playing hard to get".  Now I see this fucker absolutely everywhere. If I'm at a final table, there is a 75% probability that he's seated to my right. He has this amazing propensity for accidentally stalking me. And he's doing a great job. Its been about four weeks since I've had to encounter him and I was starting to feel like we'd finally broken the trend.. then my column comes out this month, and sure as shit.. his picture is right there on the same page with mine.  He's accidentally stalking me in my column now. Delightful.

- If you do manage to hook up with someone you meet in a card room, under no circumstances.. before or after, should you ever utter the words "Oh shit, my wife just called."  Even if this is in fact the truth. Instead say.. "I'm going to go get ice/go home/discretely disappear while you're in the shower". Anyone who is buying into the illusion wants the full service experience. Don't blow it.  As a man, if you don't understand this, imagine your freshly conquered lady-friend declaring "Oh no, I hope that isn't a herpes flare up I feel coming on."  Herpes and wives. Not entirely different.

- Do not gossip. Do not share those pictures on your cell phone. (Yes, I'm talking to you. The rest of you, don't ask), Do not expect just because we shared a nice dinner and cocktails in one state, for that person to necessarily remember it three states later.  These events tend to bleed together. It isn't personal.

- If a dealer hits on you, and you aren't interested. Do not say.. "Sure I'll meet you at the bar, say.. around midnight" with no intention of showing up.  There is a very high probability that he or she will be dealing you cards the next day for 6 hours and you won't be able to escape. This is compounded if the dealer's dad is actually a friend of yours, and subsequently turning down his facebook requests will inspire his entire extended family to prompt you to add him. Speaking purely hypothetically here. Don't judge me.

- DO be funny. DO keep things cool. If you actually WANT to see these people again, understand that they're going to be gone. A lot. To a lot of different places. Have fun, keep things low stress and be direct. The odds are though that you're going to have to mow through approx. 7,345 players inflicted with a mild case of douchebaggery to find one worth keeping around, and really, who has time for that? So keep your expectations low. 

One night stands, or even one-event stands.. and sometimes.. one poker season stands are not like your typical hookups.  You can't escape these people. So every lie you tell, every awkward "I'm sorry, this has never happened before, it must be the alcohol" moment you share, every little detail you're going to be forced to witness again and again.  Or quit playing. And take up badminton. So use common sense and consider adopting my policy.  If it begins and ends after midnight, you're probably going to regret it at some point.

And for those occasions that you don't regret it (We'll call both of them Oysters Rockefeller and Prime Rib respectively).. the amount of poker lingo that can be turned into sexual innuendo is far more vast than one would imagine. And highly entertaining.

<3,
Jen

How Scott Williams Won 2010.

I don't like admitting defeat. But I do like to give credit where credit is due.  2010 has been a fun and exciting year in poker for me, and for a lot of my friends.  I don't think there are very many people who know me who do not also immediately think of Scott Williams. This is purely accidental. I hear all sorts of stories.. people who believe we're cousins, (or as he puts it "kissing cousins"), people who think we're poker partners, people who believe I'm a hooker he picked up at the Horseshoe (long story), and most frequently.. people who believe we're married or at the very least romantically involved.  I often hear from friends of friends of friends, people recounting stories of being at a table with us (Why does he always draw my table?!) and saying "Oh those two, they're so funny." Or more frequently "Hey Jen, where is Scott?" if I'm out in a card room without him. I will go on record by saying that him and I are not, and never have been (even after considerable alcohol impairment) anything more than just really good friends. I honestly know nothing about his love life, and I only tell him the parts of mine that are funny or entertaining.

"Funny" is the word that almost everyone who knows either of us, associates with either of us. And when we get together, we have a good balance of feeding each other material for entertainment purposes.

What a lot of people catch glimpses of, but maybe not the whole scope, is that we have a long standing practical joke rivalry. We're constantly in competition, whether its through prop bets or good natured embarassment of the other.  We enjoy getting laughs out of others, but its deeper too.. we also really like besting the other. The reason him and I are able to be such good friends.. is absolutely nothing is off limits.  I know beyond any shadow of a doubt that whatever extent I go to, to humiliate him, will not cross the line. Better yet, we're both the type to actually applaud a well timed joke.. even at our own expense. I'm actually proud of him when he executes a perfect insult, and I know he's at least a little proud when I manage to turn an entire poker room on him.

This year was fairly back and forth. I lost an "anything goes" bet on American Idol. (..so, so lame. He BARELY won). I got him to accidently drink a solid mouthful of tea tainted with about four pounds of table salt during the Gulf Coast Poker Championship. I lost a bet for my hotel room key in a poker tournament in front of dozens of strangers who now honestly believe me to be a prostitute. I evened the score of his 7th place finish in a ring event, by managing a 7th place finish the same day in a later event. He invited a really creepy stalker of mine to join us for dinner at a really fancy restaurant, where my stalker proceeded to inform the waitstaff that I was his sister and we regularly engage in sexual activity. I convinced a flamboyantly gay waiter at a steakhouse that Scott couldn't live without him, and he proceeded to rub his chest all over Scotty's back during a poker game while cooing sweet nothings in his ear. We both got owned by four guys right out of prison, in the bar at the Beau Rivage when the whole scene took a turn straight out of Deliverance and we were equally fearful for our odds of getting out unharmed. There was poetry and random comments like "you sure do got a pretty mouth" (And the guy was talking to Scott).  We both managed to pick up a girl in the same bar weeks prior, get her up to the hotel room, and still NEITHER of us got any action.

Up until now, either one of us would clearly declare ourselves the winner in both witt and humor, not to mention the perpetual torture of the other. Tonight though, two days before the New Year, he actually made me marvel.  You see, I greatly appreciate when someone goes to lengthy extent to pull off a gag. Tonight when I came into the poker room, there was a wrapped present. Complete with bow.  The paper read "Ho ho ho" (He calls me the "Poker Ho").  I didn't take the bait and actually stayed as far away from the offending object as possible until he had the other poker host deliver it to HIM at the poker table. He then declared that this was, in fact, my Christmas present to him. (Odd, because I was pretty sure that we had a mutual understanding that Christmas presents were stupid and not necessary between us). So this was an unexpected twist.  I knew it would be funny, whatever it was.  But I was a little afraid. Midget porn?  Extenze male enhancement pills? A penis pump? Whatever was in that box, I had a prepared comeback.

He made a big display of opening his present in front of everyone.  Inside, was a framed picture, with a little thought bubble attached to an adjacent frame. Framed in pink construction paper, with a little cut out heart was a picture of me (stolen from Facebook), apparently in thought.. and inside the thought bubble, outlined in pink heart.. is a picture of him sitting at a poker table. He gushed over the picture and thanked me profusely. I had no idea what to say to this. I was in a terrible catch 22. 50% of the people who play in my poker room believe me to be desperately in love with Scotty.  The other 50% believe him to be retarded over me. So to them, me giving him this gift.. only solidified their assumptions. There was laughter, but mostly sweet "Ohhhs and Ahhhs" over my apparent romantic notion. Only I had absolutely NOTHING to do with this. Not only did he design, decorate and wrap this gift himself.. right down to the pink heart, but he also graciously thanked me with a very believable "touched" expression.

On one hand, I kind of want to kill him right now. Even after he left, people assured me that I didn't need to be embarassed over "my" gift.  You see, we joke so often and no one knows when we're being serious, that everyone literally believes they intruded on a personal moment. That I am, afterall, desperately in love with him.. and they've been right all along. So instead of being the funny, cool poker chick who routinely shoots Scotty down, now.. the tables have been turned.  Now I'm the sort of woman who cuts up pictures with pink construction paper and frames them for my high school sweetheart.

On the other hand, this is the most delightful gift I've ever gotten. Scotty wasn't rewarded with the scores of laughter he'd hoped to receive, but what he doesn't know is that I am in complete awe of him right now. The amount of thought he put into publicly torturing me is tremendous. The extent that he would go to to embarass me at my place of work is absolutely fantastic. I don't think I will ever be able to look at that framed atrocity without laughing out loud. Its the sort of thing that won't make sense to nine out of ten people, but that ridiculous framed picture sums up our entire relationship.  No.. not some secret adoration, but rather, the perpetual understanding that while neither of us have egos.. we've created some comical alternate reality that fuels the outside perception of us. Its flawless.

Here is the bad news.  There are two days left in the year, and unless I come up with something brilliant.. I will have to grudgingly admit that he's gotten the better of me in 2010. I say grudgingly, because if I couldn't win.. the only other person I would be okay with taking down the victory would be Scotty too Hotty.

2011 is going to be a bitch of a year for him though.  He really should move.  Out of state.  With an unlisted number. Quickly.

Winter Classic - And Poker Room Creepers

The Goldstrike was an odd event all around.  The fields weren't great, the tournament room didn't have a good "feel" to it.. it just wasn't that much fun. I didn't play well, in the very few events I played and I didn't have any phenominal run of cards. Its the first poker event I remember actually electing to go home instead of hanging around for as many events as possible. I think its too close to Christmas to really be in the zone for poker. I did get a chance to connect with the lovely Al Theriac of Magnolia fame.. and his wife Delores. Ryan Potter was there of course, always with a slightly better hand than myself.  My friend Connie cashed in an event, and Stephen Garrett and I ended up at the same table (much to my dismay! He's a great guy, but he's better than me.. and I can't charm him into taking it easy on me, so I'd rather avoid him). A lot of the usual faces.  I've played enough at this point that between being at just about everyone's table at some point or another, and the magazine column.. there are very few people I don't recognize.  I like seeing the same people throughout the year and hearing about their successes and bad beats along the way.

In our usual fashion, the one event I played with Scotty.. we draw not only the same table, but side by side seats. We also had a dealer with a bad case of either Ebola, HIV or Smallpox. Maybe all of the above. But he was sick. And I anticipate that in approx. 12 days, we both will be too. I think he would have been cute too, if he wasn't an odd shade of green with fluid oozing from various orifaces. A pity. Spent some quality time with Joe from Horseshoe, who I adore. But really, aside from just being a week long social outing, the poker really didn't amount to much. I had small success in a cash game.. and on some random slot machine that had something to do with Goldfish. If I wake up in time, I'll catch the final event tomorrow at noon. Maybe.

Now, to my next point.  Some of the creepiest people I've ever met in my life hang out in poker rooms. Tonight is an excellent testament to that.

Its a running joke among my friends that I have a magnet for pulling the creepiest people out of their caves and drawing them into my personal space.  I'm like crack for crazy people. I also have a couple of dear friends who find this to be an attractive quality of mine, simply because they enjoy the entertainment value that comes out of it.  Usually at my expense. 

Tonight started out normal enough.  I'm working my magic in the poker room.  My friend Scotty had his family up at the steakhouse for a birthday dinner, and I got to meet them. They were normal, charming people (actually, he should probably get a DNA test.. they were far more likeable than I would expect from any bloodline that could be responsible for his creation.  Maybe he's the black sheep..). It looked like the night would pass without incident.  And then it happened.  The crazy who set the standard for other crazies to live up to, wandered in.  He's one of those that lurk in the poker room, but appear to have never actually ever played poker in his life. With little to no provocation, he starts talking about this time that a brown recluse bit him and created a large sore on his backside, and he was thus inspired to call an escort service. (?!). So he does. And for whatever reason, he didn't use protection. And the hooker ended up pregnant with his daughter. And now, he is a vagabond, stalking this hooker across the United States so he can keep tabs on his kid. We eventually shake this guy, and by we I mean Jason, Jamie and Shawn. We link up with a coworker of mine, Tim and go have a cocktail in the bar.  There we meet "Pleather", or at least.. a man wearing pleather, who took great steps to eyeball stalk us for long periods of time. Even relocating himself for better vantage points. I was fortunate enough to capture a picture of Pleather creepin' on Jason. I have included it after this paragraph. The look on his face pretty much sums up the entire evening. Its pretty pro. Through a weird twist of fate, hooker-spider-guy and pleather meet and in the oddest display of "Getting to know you affection" actually start exchanging clothing. With each other. On the gaming floor. This delights me to no end. Jason is mildly intoxicated, and Jamie and Shawn are mildly horrified.  I'm not shocked at all, because really for me.. this makes perfect sense. After Scott and I fended off the prison guys straight out of Deliverance that night in Biloxi.. nothing surprises me anymore. We lose track of them for about an hour, and then, find them cozied up by the penny slots..no doubt sharing intimate sob stories involving hooker experiences gone bad.

The above delightful image includes Jason Brady, who is defending his sweater selection to me, and has absolutely no idea that he's being eyeball stalked by the pleather wearing gentleman behind him.

The reason I bring all this up?  There are a lot of really creepy people who hang out in poker rooms.  And around poker rooms.  One this week from the Winter Classic at Goldstrike ranks up there with the Deliverance boys, Pleather and Spider-Hooker. His name is Manzi, and at the event before this one we met and he promptly proposed.  Okay, I like odd balls. I'm down.  But shortly thereafter he went to a level of crazy I can't really process. I spent the next four days dodging him, while final tabling and running game on a far less crazy kid from Nashville. Fast forward to the Goldstrike, and there he is. Lurking. Everywhere. In that "after he touches you, you want to take a shower" kinda way. I have a sinking feeling that I haven't seen the last of him either.

Some of the most important people in my life, I've met in card rooms.  Friends I'll have forever, and even a relationship or two that went that distance. But my advice to anyone in need of cheap entertainment?  Go find a poker room and sit around for a little while.  If you're even slightly approachable, someone a few crayons short of a full box will approach you and leave you bewildered.  Maybe a bit emotionally scarred. And definitely with a story that will be worth repeating time and time again.

I'm off to bed. <3