Monday, August 08, 2005

Looking At Yourself

No, not in the "oh my god I need to lose 15 pounds!" sense. Or admiring your two and half times confirmed huge junk in the full length mirror.

But, watching other people at the poker table and saying "damn that was me ". I had that feeling during the bachelor party I attended this weekend.

Lack of enthusiasm in that statement? Yeah, well, that's how you could explain the weekend. Don't get me wrong I enjoy any time the guys can get together like old times and play cards and drink until we pass out. But, a bachelor party is about letting loose that one last time before entering a life contract with the opposite sex.

Me, Burnsie, and E drove up a little earlier then the rest of the troops and tried to hit a bar on the way to play a little Golden Tee while the other guys got off work. After three attempts at dive bars, including one Legion hall, no Golden Tee. Hmmmm... where can a person go in the Mille Lacs Lake area to blow off a couple of hours. There's a casino you say? Oh yeah (use super-cool Kool-Aid guy voice here).

Many midnight runs were made to this little casino turned huge resort in high school and college. I tried to hop into a $2/$4 game but the wait limited my play time to around 30 mins. In which I lost $35. Granted the rake would be hard to beat, but people who play live are generally worst then any person that logs on PartyPoker. 92s? Yeah, I put you on that hand sir after 4 people capped the betting, I fuckin rule at this game. Sigh. All sarcasm aside, I had a great time, abeit brief. Any chance to sit down and squeeze real cards and listen to the dealer's recap of his own tournament run the previous night is +EV.

Finally the other five guys in our party called and said they were closing in on our destination and said to meet up at a place called Chico's. Formally a little dive bar that we'd never stopped at before. It was a nice little Mexician restaurant with a dive bar still attached to it. Only in Minnesota could you pull of this hybrid with panache and profitability. Ate a decent meal of chicken strips (I wasn't fuly sold on the "Mexician" part) but E claimed the tacos were of decent quality. Then came the wet twenty.

A rather large woman clothed in a dress fit for an antiques shop window dressing, came up to us after having trouble inserting a twenty dollar bill into the pull tab machine that was right next our corner table. "Do any of you have a twenty" of course being the deaf-mute I didn't hear the initial question as I was submersed in my fileted breaded poultry goodness (with honey mustard sauce). Both of the guys pointed to me since I usually carry my at-home bankroll with me anytime there's a remote chance of playing poker. I gladly assisted the woman with a fresh twenty from my wallet then I touched the saturated bill she handed me with a semi-guilty look on her face. If I recall correctly her words were after seeing the perplexed look on my face were "oh it wasn't me".

I felt sick.

After the guys had a good laugh at my expense, we headed to the Izaty's resort area to start our weekend. These condos are approximately the size of my old duplex with a gorgeous view of Mille Lacs Lake. There were a bag of range balls brought out to getting some unauthorized golfing practice before our round scheduled for the next morning. Hmmm... might not be as tame as I thought. But, that's where the excitement died unfortunately. The remainder of the weekend was fun but just lack the spark that bachelor parties should have.

After golfing Saturday morning and drinking the entire day we headed to the bar which featured a fairly quiet duet strumming a few pop hits. It looked the only people interested were these two hot chicks in clothes that looked like they were painted on. Ok, there was plenty of eye candy that I gave quick glances to, but they weren't sliding down any poles offering a lap dance in exchange for a wet twenty. Two things of note happened after our party sat on the deck area to BS about our college parties and past war stories:

- Best T-Shirt Ever seen on four different fairly attractive females... "Rob's Daughters Fuck Like Champs" on the front "and Party Like Rockstars" on the back. I wanted to meet Rob and his offspring, but like I said, our party pretty much stayed to themselves.

- Another pass made by middle aged woman. I don't get this, do I have some weird quality that makes me attractive to the housewife demographic? Me and E were coming back to the bar from our condo after going on a quick beer run and this group of 5 or 6 women aged around 40-50 walked down the stairs as we were going up to the deck and started looking me and E down. One asked "where are you guys going?", we responded that our friends were upstairs and we were rejoining our party. The representative of the group answered "Why are you going upstairs, the real party is going to be down here" or something to that effect. This could have been a chance to make the weekend interesting I guess, but with several Cap'n Cokes, Jag bombs, and some macro brew in me, I didn't think I could come up with enough conversation for these ladies on a mission. Or maybe I could, but it wasn't my weekend, it was the bachelor's, so we rejoined the guys upstairs in the pool room.

After a spending a couple of hours at the marina bar, we headed back to the condo for cards. Texas Hold Em' only! I dealt the whole weekend because I enjoy it for some reason. Maybe it has to do with the fact that if there were a card club in the metro area I would be working there (that and if I knew I could make the same wages...). But while dealing I saw myself sitting next to me. Not in a LSD trip induced way, but in a sense of how this player would get upset at "suckouts" and exclaim "how can you play like that?!?!?" and "you got lucky you punk bitch" and be serious about it.

Mike: What the fuck are you carrying a gun for? What, in case somebody steps to you, Snoop Dogg?

- Swingers

This is where I finally saw myself six to eight months ago. Sure, that's when I felt like a "bad-ass winning poker player" had a flush bankroll that grew anytime I could turn on the computer. But, I've come to realize that I have MUCH more to learn about this fickle game we play. Some days you're Tiger Woods, other days you're me losing your second sleeve of balls while shanking yet other 5-iron into another group of players leaving yourself to seek comfort in your flask of peppermint schnapps.

I wonder if other players have seen this. Looking across the felt (real or virtual) and seeing a reflection of their past. Sure, once in a while I'll fight the urge to berate that inbred for playing 84 offsuit into my first raise in a half hour. But, now I'm just happy with the "get your money in with the best of it" quote that's burnt into my rum addled brain. Make the right decision, bet the right amounts, get maximum payoff, stop watching Bang Bus, eat your veggies. You know, those type of self-improvements. Damn I'm a comma whore today.

Ok I think I've rambled on enough for today, I had a neato pic post about Little Drizz's birthday party yesterday but I'll leave that for my dear reader or two tomorrow.

Thanks for dropping, now go here to learn about Lindsay Lohan getting her curves back.

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