Some days are just unbelievably ‘not there’. That’s how last night registers for me right now. I had the worst time waking up to poker when I hit the room. For one thing, I dealt a half hour on Friday, took a break, got out to play, jumped into a $15-30 H game, stacked up a sizeable win in 40 minutes, found out I could E/O, and that’s exactly what I did. It was like having a three-day weekend which makes coming back to work hard to swallow…especially when the overall effect of the room, filled with bodies and noise, is almost suffocating to me after hanging out in my own quiet space.

I drifted through a decent line-up, nothing complex, no screamers, and no one dying if they didn’t win. I kept trying to force myself to concentrate on dealing, watching the bets, keeping track of the pots, and all the little nuances that go into my profession. It finally worked…along about four to five hours into my shift.

One $4-8 H game left me chuckling when a Swedish youngster, in the 8s, had a verbal fit with an older gentleman in the 2s. I can’t help it…the personality display of people has me cracking up at times (not necessarily the incident) at how a person must perceive themselves to react to other people the way they do in public places.

It went like this: The 2s was in the BB and called a raise from the 8s…so did a few other people. The pot grew on the Flop and the Turn and the 2s check-raised the 8s on the River. The Board was something like 3-5-6-9-2 rainbow. It was heads-up when the 2s turned over Q-4 for a straight.

The 8s quickly mucked and then went into a tirade. “Stupid fucking old man!” he snorted to everyone around him (I don’t believe the 2s even heard him). I barked, “That’s enough!”

He lowered his voice but continued his tirade to the 7 and 9s. “What an idiot. How stupid is that fucker? Calling a raise with a hand like that?”

I said, “WE are all here to have fun. Let’s just play poker and drop it.”

8s to the 2s, “How could you even play that hand for a raise?”

Me, “Stop it! Let’s just play cards.”

8s, “I’ll say anything I want.”

My voice got a little hard here, “NO you won’t! First of all, he paid for his chips. He’s entitled to play any hand the way he wants to play it and you are not going to say anything about it and you have to stop swearing.”

The 8s countered, “I’m not swearing.”

Me, “Yes you are. You’ve used the ‘F’ word more than once.”

The 7s jumped in and verbally agreed with me.

The noise from the 8s stopped. The 5 and 8s were friends and the 5s left a few minutes later, after telling everyone goodnight. The 8s wasn’t far behind but he gave away most of his chips in the next few hands and left the game shortly after that.

I find it amusing that the world revolves around certain players, new and seasoned, young and old, and they are the only ones entitled to win. The rest of the world should just mail in a check to ease the stress of those ‘certain players’. But coupled with the amusement is the amazement that they want to bash a player for giving action and winning a pot. And while they are bashing, they try to pull the player next to them into their bash and make themselves look good – consequently making the player giving action look like an idiot for even sitting down at the table.

If it wasn’t for the whole world wanting to get in on the action, how could we have the wonderful Poker Buffet running around the world? *Advertisement for Poker Buffet* Come on in and pull up a chair, cards served continuously, chip purchasing available all hours, and when the smoke clears from too much action and you have time to look at the over view, you get a little insight into life…people…and yourself.

See you there!