Tuesday night, even though it was my Tuesday, I was out to play as soon as I clocked in. I jumped into a $4-8 H game on Table 8 and scrambled around for about an hour before I asked for a transfer. I won a few pots and then threw away K-K on the Flop; I was beat by both of the other players at the end of the hand (but only by one on the Flop). *pat self on back* A+ for the lay down

I transferred into a game that reminds me of what I try to do each day. I try to avoid accidents – automobile accidents, collisions with people on their way to self destruct that want to take other people with them, mishaps with my physical and mental well being, accidents that could affect the general state and well being of the Earth, and accidents where my mouth flies open with words already spewing out of it before my brain can tell it to stop. I consider the latter to be extremely important but I blew it here.

The game was full of people that had never played before. While I really enjoy those games, they are difficult to play in and know where you are in/with a hand. Not only that, it becomes increasingly difficult to hear the new player ask, for the 400th time, “What is it to me?” or to watch them try to check when three people in front of them threw out a bet and raises, the chips tell the tale, yet they are still trying to check. And then to make it even more difficult on my brain waves, the dealer that can’t figure out these players are new and need help and when the dealer does help the player, the dealer is sarcastic or rude.

I posted (9s) and was dealt in immediately, looking down to Q-J off. The bet was raised by the 6s, three-way action, I called. Marty was dealing, he’s a kick and has a great table demeanor and is top of the line in the dealing profession. The Flop brought, J-3-8. The 6s bet, I raised, everyone called, including the 6s. The Turn brought a blank and they checked. I bet. The 6s called. The River brought a blank, the 6s checked, I checked. He showed A-A. No…he wasn’t trying to trap me. The 5s exclaimed, “I thought she had a three!”

The 6s agreed, “So did I!”

I busted out laughing. “I always raise with threes. Whenever you see a three on the board, you know I have one.”

Marty started laughing. I don’t think anyone else at the table had any idea why we were laughing. I went into the ‘cold zone’ with cards. The 4 and 6s were in town for the concrete convention. One of them told me he made it ‘pretty’ the other one ‘made’ it. The 4s was from Austin TX and the 6s was from Toronto. The 5s was an all-around nice guy that got his brains beat out by the 6s – hand after hand after hand – but never whimpered about it.

We got a new player in the 8s. He acted distracted during the first hour or so of play, leaving a lot, returning to throw a few chips in the pot, and mainly sitting sideways at the table so the back of his chair kept pushing into me. He is somewhere around early 30’s I believe…although I’ve been way wrong on age before, and I found him to be quite rude with the space he took up at the table and the way he sat and acted.

I heard Felicia being paged for a 7 Card Stud seat. I spotted Glenn in a $2-5 NLH game a few tables away from me; I went over to say hi. Glenn said they’d looked for me in the room and they’d be over to visit and introduce Joe Tall to me. They did come to visit while I was playing and Joe is tall. Joe said he got in 22 bets on the River, with the nuts heads-up, and other players in the game kept saying it was a split pot and he should quit raising…and that he never quit raising when he had the best of it. I’m with him. I believe he was playing $30-60. Most definitely, at that limit, one would think the players would be aware of poker etiquette and not say anything during the hand. Go figure!

I was standing up beside my chair, still peeking at cards that were dealt to me, and visiting with Joe, Felicia, and Glenn at the same time. One of our dealers asked if it was a Blogger’s Convention…funny! Joe said he didn’t have a blog yet but he was starting one. Felicia brought up her blog. She said she didn’t know why anyone read it anyway, all she did was bitch. I told her I read it and sometimes one just has to say what they’re thinking. She said she got it from me. Whoops! Thanks…I think. But did she get the ‘bitching’ from me????

Joe was leaving town, Felicia and Glenn were leaving for the night and I went back to my game.

An older gent sat down in the 10s. He had absolutely no idea how to play…he was there because of the concrete convention also but his part of it was something to do with selling magazines. I semi helped him wade through the blinds and betting structure and got a chuckle out of his wit and the relaxed manner in which he laughed at his own inexperience in the fine art of poker.

The 3s opened and I opted to take it, a lot more space on that end without the 8s taking up the space of two people and trying to push his chair back through my side and arm.

The 2s never knew what the bet was to him or who had what. The 10s wasn’t in much better shape. We had our run of dealers that couldn’t run the game and it went into horrible lag sessions. I refused to get involved in that part of it so I bit my tongue and waited. I couldn’t find a hand to play, which didn’t help either. By now the 6s had tuned in to me and kept pulling me into his conversations. This was when I found out where the 4 and 6s were from and why they were in town. They both, intermittently, kept stacking chips, getting ran over by the deck with ‘skill cards’ that held up, and they were never sure if they had the best hand and really didn’t know how to play so they didn’t punish anyone while they showed down the stone nuts.

I couldn’t find a hand. I was stuck in the 9-4, 6-2, 7-4, Q-3 mode. Repeat! I did have fun listening to the boys from Austin and Toronto. At one point, I said, “Just think. If it weren’t for concrete and poker, you two would probably never have met.” They thought that was quite profound…they were easy.

Out of sheer idiocy, or boredom, but completely sober, I put the straddle on the Blind. Austin (4s) raised, the Button called, I raised, Austin raised, the Button called, I put the last raise in 5-3 Diamonds. Of course they called! The Flop was 10-10-5. I checked, they checked. It was checked all the way down. I turned up my hand with, “This is what I put the last raise in with…”

Just when I thought maybe I had the best hand Austin turned over Q-Q, “This is what I raised with.”

On with the show – lots more unplayable hands. I finally picked up Q-J of Clubs, raised it, got three callers, flopped an open ended straight flush with top pair, bet the hell out of it, got raised with two callers, I raised it and turned a Royal…and got called in two places on the River. Wow! Pretty close to even in one hand.

The 8s had been walking again and returned to pick up A-A. He got a lot of action (not me) and filled up on the River. He gave a speech, “Oh…they are finally good…”

I tuned him out. Remember, I’m the one he kept jamming his chair back into when I was seated next to him. Within 15 minutes he picked up Aces again and won a huge pot when he filled up on the River again and two players made a Flush on the Turn. Now the 8s was really chirping and sounding off about how it was about time his cards stood up…blah-blah.

The kindly, concrete magazine selling gent in the 10s succumbed to a beat from the 8s and said good night to us. The 8s lipped off and told him to go get more money and come back.

The 8s was on a super rush…not just with cards but with his mouth too. After another half hour or so, I picked up J-J, raised it, got the 8s calling out of the SB and the BB calling too. The Flop was something like 9-3-2 with one heart. They both checked, I bet, they both called.

The Turn brought an 8 of hearts. They both checked, I bet, they both called but the 8s was doing some ‘lip lingo’ as he was calling…explaining his action as he looked at me. Ugh!

The River brought the King of Hearts. The 8s hesitated, looking at me, then an over exaggerated move as he picked up chips and fired. I wish the 9s had called him. I was having a hard time putting him on anything. I called and turned over my hand. He showed K-8 off.

His face lit up like he’d won the lottery and his arms waved somewhere towards the ceiling as he blurted, “I knew exactly what you had. I knew where you were…”

Here’s the part where I wish I wouldn’t have ‘accidents where my mouth flies open with words already spewing out of it before my brain can tell it to stop’.

I said, “Well you’re definitely playing way to low a limit. If you can read people that well you should be playing much higher.”

He kept ranting, so did I, “Hey…let’s hear it for you and your great playing ability…” as I applauded.

Stick a fork in me. Literally. When I start sounding off like that it’s time to go home. *embarrassed flush*

The worst of it is that Kamell walked up a few minutes later and told me I could clock out. As I hit the Time Clock, he told me that he should have let me go sooner. If I could have left earlier I would have. Unfortunately I had time to embarrass myself by having an accident with my mouth. Damn it! Timing is everything.