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Gutshot, a short story, Part 1

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  • Gutshot, a short story, Part 1

    It's been a while since I wrote anything - couldn't sleep and was working on my novel, and an idea for a series of short stories came to me, so I thought I'd give it a go. Most of you probably won't like this series (you'll see why, LOL). Anyway, enjoy, or hate - here it is.

    "Gutshot, Part One"

    Jack's was the kind of place you couldn't get into unless you knew someone. It was nestled in the basement of a small nightclub, The Jazz Club, that Jack owned. No doormen guarded the main street entrance to The Jazz Club but if you went down the back stairs, Tommy, a big burly Samoan would be waiting for you. If you weren't on the list, or with someone who was on the list, Tommy would smile his big toothy grin and ask you to leave nicely. Most people listened, and those that didn't soon found out why they should have.

    If you were able to get past Tommy you entered a small room, much like the one Matt Damon's character encountered in Rounders at Teddy KGB's place. Here you would give Angel, a tiny blonde whose bark was worse than her bite, your money and she would hand you a rack of chips. There wasn't any credit at Jack's, you either had the cash or you didn't play, it was that simple. The main room had five tables, one in each corner and one prominently placed in the center. This was where the big spenders spent their time. There weren't any televisions, and the only sound besides the ones the players were making was the earthy jazz music that would float downstairs from the club.

    Sitting at the back corner table, wearing a Nike cap, a New York Yankees sweatshirt and jeans was Alex Thompson. Alex reminded a lot of people of a younger John Cusack, the one who wooed Ione Skye in Say Anything. Sunglasses covered his eyes and he wore a pair of headphones to drown out the jazz music he didn't care for. He rocked his head slowly to Nirvana as cards and chips flew across the table. In front of Alex was a large stack of chips. It had been a good night for him at 10/20 Texas Hold 'Em, he was easily up over a grand. His voice was calm and quiet as he said "Raise" and tossed two chips into the middle of the table. His opponent, an older gentleman who by day was a veterinarian and was known as Doc at Jack's, studied Alex and tossed his cards into the middle. "Fold," he said, giving Alex a slight look of disgust. "What'd you have that time kid?" Doc asked. Alex flipped over his cards, grinning a little, and showed the table that he had been on a stone cold bluff. "Six high?" Doc grimaced. "You check raised me with six high? You raised preflop with that? What the h-ell were you thinking?"

    A feisty voice interrupted Doc's tirade. "Hey guys, I want you to meet Aimee, she's a friend of mine. She's going to join you for a little poker tonight if you don't mind." The table turned to look at Angel and her friend. Aimee was tall, petite but not too slender, and just a little above average looking. She was cute in a next door neighbor kind of way, a lesser version perhaps of Sandra Bullock. She was dressed nicely, a soft brown cashmere sweater and tan slacks. She didn't wear a lot of makeup - she didn't need to. Aimee sat down directly across from Alex and placed her chips carefully in front of her. Everyone was quiet, not too many women entered Jack's. Especially not women that looked like Aimee. Usually the female clientele consisted of Jack's mom, a miserly old woman who liked to lose her son's money, and the occasional player's spouse who came just to spend time with her man.

    Mac, the dealer, broke the silence. "OK boys," he said, then sarcastically added "and gal." "Let's get back to playing some poker." Mac dealt the cards to the nine players at the table. Aimee, who had posted, surveyed the table with eyes of a surgeon examining his patient. The two players before her had limped in. "OK men, or shall I say boys," she said confidently as she tossed a chip into the middle. "Let's see what you're made of. Raise." The next three players quickly tossed their cards into the muck, but Alex wasn't going to be intimidated by the newcomer. "Raise," he said, and tossed two chips into the middle. The blinds folded and the initial two limpers decided to join them. Aimee looked at Alex for the first time, and saw something, a glimmer, a smile, but quickly discarded the smile that was about to form on her face. "Raise," she said and added two more $10 chips to the ever growing pot. "Bettings capped," Max said. "Call," Alex said.

    Max dealt up three cards - the ace of clubs, the eight of hearts and the 2 of spades. Aimee looked casually at the cards, tapped the table, and smiled at Alex. Alex ignored her smile and peeked at his cards. He had the 2 of clubs and the nine of spades. He tossed a chip into the middle and smiled back at Aimee. It was a sly grin, mischevious and cunning, and for a second Aimee forgot where she was. She collected herself, however, and carefully placed two chips into the middle. "Raise," she said.

    "Ohhhhhh," Alex laughed. "You're check raising me? That's funny. Raise."

    "Yes," Aimee smiled. "I'm check raising you. In fact, not only am I check raising you, but I'm raising your re-raise. Raise."

    The flirtatious looks disappeared. This was war. The turn card was the four of diamonds. This time the action was quick, nothing was said except raise and the betting was capped. The river was a beautiful card for Alex, the two of diamonds. He laughed as Aimee fired a bet into the middle of the pot. "Save your money little girl," he grinned. "Raise."

    "Oh yessah massah, I best be goins off to the kitchen now," Aimee answered sarcastically. "Raise."

    "Cap it Max," Alex said, adding his chips to the pot.

    "Well I guess your big bad ace got me," Aimee answered. "Call."

    "Ha," Alex laughed, turning over his cards. "Two Nine off. How ya like that?"

    "Wow," Aimee answered. "Them's some purty good cards. Almost as good as mine."

    Aimee slowly turned over her first card, the ten of hearts.

    "Not looking good is it?" Alex laughed.

    "No, not very," Aimee answered and turned over her other card, the two of hearts.

    "For you."

    Doc, who had been quiet the entire time, burst out into laughter. The rest of the table, even Mac, joined him. "Ohhh, she got you good Alex. A little bit of your own medicine. How you like them apples?"

    Alex snorted. "Nice hand," he grumbled.

    "Why thank you sir," Aimee answered. This time the smile reappeared.

    And that was how Alex Thompson met Aimee Lewis.

  • #2
    I sure enjoy these Aaron. TY for sharing your talent.



    • #3
      A split pot, should have had her win the pot outright. Would have had more effect. Otherwise a great story again.

      Ricky Hard


      • #4
        Ah an oversight. That's what I get for writing at 5 in the morning. Corrected. Thanks Ricky.



        • #5
          i agree with ricky great story pity about the split pot


          • #6
            Now it all comes together, great story Aaron. Looking forward to part II.

            Ricky Hard


            • #7
              great story hazy, i actually know someone that plays exactly like that. can be frustrating at times........ i love these stories! do you write from personnal experiences?


              • #8
                In most fiction that I write Jay, personal experience does tend to find it's way in there. However, this time nothing could be further from the truth. I've never played at a place like Jack's, nor have I ever played against a player like Alex (although I have heard of players like this, perhaps where I got the idea). Most of it just comes out of this tiny mind of mine.

                Glad ya'll enjoyed, I was worried you wouldn't like the beginnings of a "poker romance"



                • #9
                  If you find yourself in need of any "tidbits" about "poker romance" just PM Two poker dealers living together makes for some interesting "pillow talk"