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A Short Story.. Chapter #2

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  • A Short Story.. Chapter #2

    Inspired by events that transpired in one of the WPO Round One events.
    As I take my seat at the opening table, I can’t help but notice how pretty the gal to my left is. I’m in Seat 3. A couple of the players obviously know each other. I know no one and no one knows me for the obvious reason that this is my first big event ever. The pretty gal next to me in Seat 4 says hello to me and I introduce myself. She says her name is ‘Serphina’. Maybe it’s ‘Serfina’, but I don’t ask her for the proper spelling. She looks to be of some sort of Middle Eastern descent. Not completely, but I definitely think there is that ethnicity. I listen in on a couple of the conversations at the table. You know how you do: like when you go to a party at some friends house, and you really don’t know anyone other then the friend, and they all have (apparently) something in common, and you listen in hoping for a piece of the conversation that will allow you to get in on the conversation and be part of the group? That moment doesn’t come but I do learn that the gal in Seat 9 is Anne and she finished 2nd in the Ladies WSOP event last year, and her and the guy in Seat 6 are friends and he plays in the big events by winning his way in through satellites. But as far as I can tell, none of the “names” are at my table. Good. And Bad. At least if I got knocked out by a “Big Name” I could have one of those “Yeah, well, at least I got knocked out by “Big Name“” stories.

    Our dealer is a non-descript thirty something woman named Jo-Ann, and frankly I’m a bit disappointed. I was hoping for that cliché dealer: some scraggly mid-fifties woman, who had that air of a woman who had a tough life, and wasn’t broken by it but toughened by it. The olive leather skinned face created by years of smoke and sun. Hell, this was my first, and maybe only, big event and I wanted the whole experience! Cliché dealer and all. “Jo-Ann” looked like the neighbor who would be two doors down in your suburban neighborhood whom you knew by first name only and you saw only when she was getting the morning newspaper, or taking her kids to soccer practice on Saturday mornings, or washing her minivan in her driveway. And you knew nothing about other then she lived two doors down, got a morning newspaper, had kids who played soccer, and owned a white mini-van and washed it in her driveway. I said “Hello Jo-Ann”. She said “Hello”, with a slightly forced smile. Jo-Ann breaks open a deck and we begin.

    I see two flops early, both for only the price of a limp: an 89s in hearts and an AQo. I fold the 89s when nothing hits on the flop and face a raise. The AQo flop gets a Q and two hearts. I bet that hand and Serphina folds, the guy with the sunglasses in seat 5 calls. All else fold. Nothing scary on the turn, so I bet again and seat 5 calls. Nothing on the river. I’m thinking maybe he has AQ too, or maybe trips but I can’t check here so I bet 2k. He calls. We turnover and he has Kc5c. Nothing. Not even a pair. I take down the pot and now have about 13k in chips. But I wonder what in the hell that was! Did he think my 2k was a bluff? And his K high would win? Did I play that that so poorly that he would think I had nothing, even less then a K??? And what did the other people think of that? How will that affect me later on? Jesus….I’m stressed….relax…..

  • #2
    Cool cool story..... 8) 8)

    Can't wait for the next installment



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