I notice lots of things about people at the poker table, their hands in particular because that’s where a lot of my focus is, trying to guess if they checked or are thinking about what they are going to do, or if they are even with us…perhaps they took a trip somewhere that the rest of us can’t get into.

Some of the hands really make me cringe…no not poker hands, people’s hands. Hangnails, huge shards of dried skin hanging off the edges of the nail bed and around the fingertips, nails that have been chewed down past the nail bed, ripped off and bloody looking, (it makes me bleed just thinking about it), nails that are strong as horse’s hooves but are never filed or clipped and have big divots out of the edges, spaces that are filled with dirt under the nail and around the cuticle…

And the opposite side of the damaged, uncared for nails, too much polish and adornment, too long and thick…scary looking they are so long and thick. Hands that never have known a blister or a day of hard labor. But there are a lot of other things besides the hands…

Jewelry that would choke me, let alone a horse, the continual adjustment of the ring, or the bracelet or watch to draw attention to it, spreading the hand out flat on the table, when not in a hand, to show off a diamond under the bright, focused light.

Women that show as much cleavage as possible and try to look ultra sexy, as if they’re shopping instead of playing poker…well maybe they are shopping, for a guy or a woman that can afford them and their habits. The guys that check out anything that even resembles female, even if they’re married. And the people that keep their head down, buried in the felt, as if they never want to have to talk to another human being again, as long as they live. The happy go lucky ‘I just came to blow off a few $$$’s’ and the ones that look as if they’ll die when they lose a pot.

Sick people, healthy people, old and young, dumb as hell, brilliant, educated, illiterate, rich, poor, free, a slave to their own lusts, lost, lonely, happy and settled…they all line the tables, night after night.

For a small moment in time, I get to step into their lives. I get to see them, feel their anger, share their laughter, watch their expressions, listen to them as they give me some insight into them and myself.

I get to keep the best parts of that contact…I can discard the parts I don’t want to visit again…but the best part of them, I get to store away and keep it, like a treasured gift that I was given by an unexpected suitor.

The long and short of it, poker is the nuts! Hey, they give me money too!