With the Friday prelude at the Boathouse over, BG took the reins of MC for the evening. A poker tournament (FOR PLAY CHIPS) was set up in the spacious conference hall for those of us who arrived a day early.
I think what makes this group special is its ability to come through with the unexpected. Like my apparent inability to keep my jeans buttoned, but we’ll get to that tomorrow. The wet bar stocked with Grey Goose, 1800, and of course SoCo, along with a keg of if-you’re-not-from-the-east-coast-don’t-try-to-pronounce-the-real-name-of “the lager”, set the ship in the right direction.
After the keg was properly tapped, we began to throw cards and chips in each other’s direction. 235 chips to begin with at ½ blinds provided plenty of time and play or as Cardplayer “Like You Were There Moment” would report… the play was fierce and emotions ran high.
Going clockwise around the table, I found myself seated next to the lovely Karol, whose innocent wolf-in-sheep-clothing looks preyed upon any bets I attempted to throw into the pot. Spaceman and StB were seated opposite of me. 2005 Lewey Award winner and 2006 WPBT Caesar’s Palace champ F-Train looked to be in good form for a repeat of last year’s award winning performance. Rounding out the table was Katitude, the beautiful teacher from the land of maple syrup, funny colored money, and illegal U-turns. And on my immediate right, the enabler Ms. Veneno. She was solely responsible for derailing my attempts at a “slow” buzz for the weekend. When someone is kind enough to mix me a drink I have no reservations of turning down just generosity, but why do they always ask you “is this too strong?” when they know damn well that mixing a margarita with 3/4th tequila and a splash of mix might be “too strong”. Ah, but those soft eyes would end my tourney a little later after the faux tequila shooter was finished.
More attention was paid to catching up then picking up tells. Just the way a blogger tourney should be. After F-Train, StB, and Spaceman departed and we consolidated to two tables, Karol’s co-blogger Dawn dropped by to give everyone bronchitis (does this earn her the Gracie’s Patient Zero award? I kid!!). Carter (link doesn’t seem to work) and a man on a mission, TripJax decided to take time off of going shot-for-shot with Al to bully me off every hand I tried to play.
Then with 11 left, and Veneno limping behind I got the brilliant idea to raise all-in with ATo having 16BBs left. After folding around she of course couldn’t get her chips in soon enough with pocket Kings and I was left to wait for the cash (WITH PLAY CHIPS) game to start.
Pokerwolf, Speaker, Spaceman, Maudie, Kat, and SirAlCantLimp managed to steal my money bit by bit with every horrible turn of the card. Even my Twins mini-helmet sundae holder/card capper wasn’t working any magic. I tried playing blind and kept picking up draws that felt like the last 5 seconds of a lap dance when the stripper quickly swipes away your money to scurry off to her next victim while you’re left with blue balls and a lighter wallet. None of them came (start booing), and my wallet weighted in at less then a super-featherweight boxer.
Pauly decided with the looks of a man looking for an illegal dice game, to prop bet anyone for high card out of the muck (even if the game was still being played). And subsequently won. Every. Time. It felt like waiting for the river card while playing online, rigged. :P
Yep, right at home with this crowd.
With the blood-alcohol limit blown past, several bloggers expressed a need to grab a bite to eat. A diner was the plea, but it wasn’t to be, because there’s only one place open during the wee hours.
Which may have been the most popular word besides “refill” or “I going to puke” for the weekend. The Wawa looked like any regular convenience store from the outside, so I quickly looked for the pre-made microwavable section for a burger. StB with similar thoughts was denied his chemically injected burrito and had to settle for a bag of chips. Wawa wasn’t a place for disappointment of course, because the entire back of the store was a sandwich shop AND people were working! From one of 4 or 5 LCD screens you could choose what seemed like an endless amount of mouthwatering condiments and different meats. Since I’d never tried a Philly Cheesesteak before it seemed like the prudent choice for a “when in Rome” moment. The sandwich tasted almost as good as the platinum blonde looked exiting her SUV as the drunk tank of bloggers was piling back into (not on top of) the van.
From here my memory is fuzzy until the next day when we’d adventure for a happy ending and play a little beer pong. Tomorrow brings semi-intentional wardrobe malfunctions, the gods of beer bong get denied, and who put water in my Cap’n Coke?
Thanks for dropping by, now whoever decided last night that I was worthy of some cards and bad players. Thanks, I needed that.