Well, I'll try my luck at this. Having written a "poker story" in high school, I'll take
my chances and just reprint it here...hoping its worth twenty green ones =D.
I never did improve the ending like I told myself I would, but let's see what you
all think of it anyways. Here goes... (FYI, the email you can reach me at is
***@sinderphytik.mailshell.com , and yes that email does indeed
work and will get to me)....and now, without further ado, the story....
(hope the line breaks come in ok...)
High Society
All in, I announced as I pushed in the last of my stack of red chips. I could tell that Jay was trying to put one over me, and so I knew I had to punish him for it. Only problem was that youre supposed to do that when youve actually got chips to work with. I could tell from his piercing stare into my shaded sunglasses that he suspected exactly what I had done. But I still thought that there was no way that he could tell that all I held in my hand was an Ace-high. That is, until he began to play with his chips. Then I knew it
he had the goods. Only a person who had hit his hand wouldve had the audacity to taunt me like that. By now, I had figured out that he had made his flush on his first draw. But all I could do was wait, sweating the time out, until he finally made me pay for trying to bluff him out. And then he did it
he threw his cards away. He didnt call me, didnt know what I had, didnt think he had me beat. Of course if he was in the pot, he wouldve won it. But he had laid his cards down
not to anyone, but to me. That told me something. He respected me at the table. Maybe not on the basketball court, where I never really was that good. Not wanting to reveal what I had, I calmly mucked my cards into the gutter, no one the wiser.
After that tense hand yesterday, I managed to hold on to most of my chips for the rest of the night. When I got home, I had poured out my chips onto the bed. Fat Tony didnt want to trade in my chips after every game, considering my frequent visits to the backdoor of his Laundromat. As I surveyed the scene I noted that I had lost a sizable amount, but nothing that I couldnt win back sooner or later. I had always thought of myself as the best player ever. Ever since that first game in 6th grade where I won thirty-five cents, Ive been addicted. Because of my tenacity to try and win at everything, I had easily embraced the game. That is to say, the future World Champion had easily embraced the game. That was how I had always regarded myself, the greatest player to ever play the game. Not just any game, but the greatest game in the world. Poker. It was a way of life for some people, but not me. At least, not quite yet. I still couldnt make a decent living off of the deal of the card, hard as I tried. Thats why, this morning, I still had to get up at a quarter past six in the morning. My back was aching, and I realized it was because I hadnt moved the chips off the bed last night. I had been so tired that I had collapsed right on top of them, neglecting to move them aside first. I stumbled out of the bed, slapping the snooze button that was piercing through the quiet morning with its siren-like noise. I knew I had to get to work on time today, or I risked being fired. Because of my poker addiction, I had been late to work so many times that my boss had placed me on probation. One more time, and that wouldve been the end of my job. Especially in this job market, I really had no choice but suffer through the pain and get ready. As I slowly approached the bathroom, I firmly rubbed my eyes, attempting to clear the blurred view that was impairing my vision. I could feel my feet stepping on the wooden floor with loud thumps, indicating my close proximity to the tiled floor of the bathroom. Just as I managed to clear the grogginess from my sight, I peered down and saw it. That which would be the end of me. It peered back at me, just daring me to step on it. A poker chip. Before I could realize it, I was slipping, falling down, unable to call for help. I saw my life flash before me as my descent grew ever faster, with my head rapidly approaching the foot of my bed. Before I could realize it, I actually fell onto the soft, lush bed itself. That was my true downfall, not slipping on the poker chip. Before I knew it, the smooth, tender touch of my tattered silk comforter buoyed me, like a child falling onto a moon bounce. Instantly, I reverted back to the dream-like with which I had woken that morning. Before I knew it, I was flying through another dimension, completely ignorant of my alarm clocks repeatedly hideous shrieks, piercing through the calm air. I was sleeping like a baby
right past the time I should have been at work by. I was entranced by the flying pigs, the jumping sheep, the gliding penguins, you name it. The blissful dream which had come over me was too much for the little alarm clock to conquer. It was trying so hard to break my concentration as I attempted to soar to the sun, but I wouldnt let it. As I streaked over the dusk sky, I felt calm, relaxed and tranquil. Not a thing in the world could impede my ecstasy. Nothing but the damned shrill of my irritable alarm clock.
When I woke, it was dark outside. I checked my clock quickly, only to confirm my suspicion. 7:14 PM. Id slept through the day, missed work and probably lost my job. Pushing the remaining chips off my bed, I lurched up. As I went to check for any phone messages, I saw a note coming half-in through the mail slot in my disheveled door. Symbolic of the entire apartment, that door was. Because my financial condition was never stable, I couldnt afford a more expensive apartment I had to settle for this dump. It was cheap, but at least it was mine. I grabbed the note in the door as I walked towards my stain-covered desk. Fumbling with the note, I noticed that I had two new messages in my voicemail. I could already guess what one of them was, but realized I had to play it to confirm my inkling. Just as I thought
my bosss soft, and yet commanding, voice rang out:
Hello? This is Pamela
Ray, you know I had warned you about this last time. I tried my best, but this was out of my control. Im sorry to tell you, but we wont be needing you back. Try contacting Veronica, she said she may be able to help you out. Sorry, buddy.
So it was true. I was out of a job, with no alternative means of getting by. The odds of me finding another job as good as this one in New York City? Hell, even I wouldnt bet on it. As I deleted this first message, I thought of Veronica
the very seductive Veronica. We had dated for a while, but it hadnt worked out because of our contrasting personalities. The ironic thing was that she had gotten me this job in the first place. I remember it as if it were yesterday, first meeting her in a casual game of Omaha Hi-Low.
I had been on a roll when I had gotten into that game, figuring Id just blow off some steam and maybe a couple of bucks in order to have some fun. When I saw Veronica in that game, I figured it was a sure bet Id be leaving that place happy. That was before I started playing against her. Manipulative, conniving, ruthless only some of the adjectives I would use to describe her. Beautiful, stunning, and attractive are the other ones. And she used every trait to her advantage. From the way she collected her chips to her demeanor when checking, she used every attribute to her benefit. While I was playing to have fun, it was evident she was playing to win. Combined with my drinking that night, it didnt turn out well. She managed to win every cent I had to my name that night. Merciless would be too weak in describing just how she took all of my money. I figured she had done this to other people too, using her beauty to win money from drunken players who didnt consider what was happening to them, pitilessly parting their money from them. That is, until what she did for me after the game ended. Apparently feeling sorry for my situation, she told me she could get me a job, and a well-paying one at that. I was grateful for this, as it would mean a stable income.
Unfortunately, my poker addiction never meant that my income was stable. Ever since that game a year and a half ago, I had at least managed to scrape by, living on the income that job that Veronica had got me paid. It was pretty good pay, but it varied with the highs and lows of my poker games. As I reminisced about the events of my recent life, I heard the painful monotonous noise of a computer-produced voice asking, Delete Message 1...Delete Message 1? I had been daydreaming for so long, I had not realized this looped message asking me to delete the message from Pamela. Realizing that chapter of my life was over with no possible recourse, I continued to the second and final message:
Hold on, Im on the phone, Dave!
Hello? Ray, this is Veronica. I dont know if Pamela told you yet or not, but umm
youve been let go. Im really sorry about this Ray, but I cant help you out on this one. Instead, maybe you want to join us for a game of poker? Were going to play in the backroom of Luigis Pizza tomorrow night around 11. I hope Ill see you there. Ive got to go now, they need me on something. Im really sorry about this Ray, and good luck.
Veronica. This was her first call to me since we had broken up over a half-year ago. Her voice sounded reassuring, yet chilling considering I had just been thinking about her. We had worked together, but she had been moved to a different division soon after we ended our relationship. I think she may have asked for it, I never did ask
I just figured it would be for the best if we werent working side-by-side. Now there wouldnt even be the possibility of seeing her at work, considering I had no job.
Realizing the gravity of my situation, I began to get ready. I would need to seek out a new means of living. It was still early in the evening, but I knew I could find myself a game somewhere. Thats just the way it was in New York City
always some poor sucker trying to win some money on the side when his other bets hadnt paid off. Sometimes it was horseracing, sometimes it was a Yankees game
either way, they figured they could make it back on a game of skill. What they didnt realize was that they were dead money in any game I played in, suckers for the taking. Quickly calling up some people I knew, I scavenged up a game with some lawyers looking for a little side action in order to relax them from their legal gambles of the day. Grabbing my coat, I left, hoping to figure out something to do while playing.
By the time I had gotten back, it was noon the next day. The game had been just as easy as I had thought, save for one experienced player. The whole night, the chips went between us, back and forth, one to another. When he finally made a mistake, I capitalized on it. What type of person would go all-in with a big slick before the flop? Either a player who thinks hes going to be lucky, or a player with no chance left to save himself. Luckily for me, he ended up being both. I had the lead at the time, the other players having been tapped out of cash already. My read was perfect the tremble in the left hand, the rapid blinking, and his tendency to smack his lips whenever he was going for the lucky draw. All of them let me know what he held in his hand. Those two cards that he attempted to cover up with his chips. It didnt matter because I had called his number. What he didnt realize was I had a pocket pair of sevens. Those two sevens would lead me all the way to his chip stack. What I didnt account for was the luck of the draw. The flop came out Ace, King, Deuce giving him 2 pairs, Aces and Kings, to my single pair of sevens. When the last two cards were blanks, I couldnt comprehend what had happened. The tables had turned, from me having a small but sizable advantage to being left with almost nothing at all. Thirteen chips, thats all I was left with. Barely anything, and this money was all the more crucial to me, considering I didnt have a job anymore.
Luckily for myself, my skill persevered in the game. I managed to make back a good part of what I lost in that single hand, although I couldnt regain my position of chip advantage. It was another sizable hit to my poker money, but I knew I could always find another game in which to make my money back. When I finally got inside my apartment after unlocking my door, the blinking light on my answering machine indicated I had a message. As I hesitantly approached the machine that had now annoyed me so much, I surmised that this would be another message from Pamela, maybe wanting me to come back and pack up my stuff. As I pressed the button, I wondered if maybe she wanted me to come back and work for her even.
Hey Ray, this is Veronica again. Just wanted to remind you that the game will be tonight at Luigis Pizza. I reeaaally hope to see you there.
As I wondered if I would go to the game or not, I pondered this latest message from Veronica. I could tell from her voice that she wanted, even expected, me to be at that game. And yet I didnt know if I could go
it wasnt that I didnt want to, it was just that poker was starting to destroy me. Every game of late had me either suffering a bad beat, or just straight-up losing. As I pondered my situation, I realized the obvious: There was no way I could simply give up poker. For some people, its booze; others have an addiction to crack, heroin, some fatal drug. For me, its the flip of the cards. It just has an allure, an incredible natural high that goes with it
I simply cant resist it. What I did realize, however, was that my poker habit was destroying me. Id lost my job, most of my disposable income, hell, even my family had deserted me because of my love to Lady Luck. But I simply could not give up the love of my life. Even if poker was to be the end of me, I would spend every last breath gambling on the outcome of a pack of 52 cards. And so that night, I went to Luigis Pizza, knowing that Id see a friendly face.
When Veronica did show up that night, it was already half past midnight. Considering she had said shed be there an hour and a half earlier, I had been tense, fearing she would not come. I was already down on my luck, on a losing streak too long to remember. And now I had borrowed a marker from Luigi to pay for the game. Not just any amount either
.I had gotten in for a pair of stacks of high society. Id begun the game with $20,000 and now I was under 4 grand. As I sweated the next hand, I knew Id have to make a move soon. In this game, Luigi was the man, seemingly invincible. By now, it seemed we were left to have a personal rivalry, as every one else folded to me, who was on the button. As I quickly peered down at the pair of plastic cards near me, I saw a lot of white space on them
.too much white space. Inconspicuously, I checked again, more carefully. The best hand you could hope for shone back at me: American Airlines, Pocket Rockets, a pair of Aces. I knew that this was my chance to double up, stand a chance of raking in some serious cash that night. With two players behind me, I wasnt sure if Id even get a call. Then I noticed Luigi wiping his brow
something he had only done a couple times before and both previous times it had seemed out of place. As I yearned to remember back, I realized that both times before he had shown a high pocket pair, Queens once and Kings the other time. As the seconds ticked by, I reasoned that he was itching to play this hand, no matter the cost. And so I did it, pushing in all of my chips. A play I had done so many times before, and yet this time so much rode on it. The player after me quickly folded, and then it was just me and Luigi left. As his piercing stare attempted to break through my mirrored sunglasses, I knew he suspected a strong play on my part. If he had thought I was bluffing, he wouldve matched my money immediately. I sweated profusely as he waited, seeming to do nothing and yet everything at the same time. I couldnt even see the second hand of the clock moving, time was moving so slowly. As I glanced at Veronica, I noticed she looked unusually nervous, almost fearing an unimaginable monster. Before I could turn back to look at the menacing Luigi, his hoarse voice rang out.
I call.
We each turned over our cards, noting our position relative to the other. If Luigi wanted to win, he would need a third King to go with the two he had flipped over. But now, it was up to the fall of the cards. As we both stood up, the dealer slowly burned a card, then flipped the next three over.
Nooooo!
A huge smile erupted over my face as I saw a third ace come out on the flop. For once, Lady Luck had come my way, almost completely ensuring me the win on this hand. Luigi grimaced, his teeth looking like they were going to snap. As the fourth card came down, I didnt even see Luigi reach in his pocket.
Before I had seen another Ace come out, I was already falling back, my life flashing before me. My mother rearing me, my times with Veronica, the highs and low of my poker life
none of those memories could stop what came next. Before I realized it, I lay on the floor, bleeding to death. As I slowly died, my last vision was of Veronica, tenaciously laughing as I bled away.
-----------------------------------
Not the greatest story in the world, but maybe its worth $20 bucks? Let me
know what you think =)
Sinder
--------------= Posted using GrabIt =----------------
------= Binary Usenet downloading made easy =---------
-= Get GrabIt for free from http://www.shemes.com/ =-