On Going Out Into the World

So I did. I drug my butt out of the house last night for the first time in awhile and went to play in a free poker tournament at a bar I used to frequent. It took all of my gumption and courage to actually go and once there I was reminded of why I so rarely hang out with real live people. They are weirdddd.

So that you understand, this poker “tournament” is hosted by a company that offers such things at various restaurants every single night of the week at lots of locations in my local area. It’s free to play and the prize is usually a gift cert to the restaurant you are playing at. This particular venue hosted bull riding, pool tables and dancing on top of a game of cards so that, while seated at our card table you were forced to try to see the cards with flashing strobe lights and the sounds of “Boot Scoot Boogie” blaring in your ears (I am a girl who happens to know how to Boot Scoot, so I’m not saying that in a derogatory way, just so you get an idea of the concentration level or lack thereof in the game.) The man to my left was adorned with tattoos and was intent on giving off an impression of poker superiority, an end to which he horribly failed at. Each time he found himself one-on-one with another player at the table, he talked about his hand and how he had read the opponent’s hand and on and on and on in such a way that it was easy to see he actually knew very little about the game (he never forecasted the opponent’s hand correctly) and always ended up with a terribly losing hand of his own. He also thought it was clever to show me his hand when I was out of play as if I wanted to see how badly he played the game. The woman to my right was distinctly the opposite. She was intent on managing our table according to WSOP (World Series of Poker) rules. When a player across the table from me threw in 20 chips, it may or may not actually be a bet of 20, he may have needed change out of the pot, so it was difficult with the way people threw in their chips to always know what the current bet was, and who was next to wager, or who was even in the hand. Queen of the Table would correct people who wagered incorrectly, would stop play if we went out of order, and even rose up to divide the chips in a pot that she wasn’t a part of!! Um, honey, we’re in a BAR where you can barely see or hear and we’re playing for a gift cert. I think he can string bet if he wants to. No one is really paying attention anyway.

So, with 24 people who started the tourney, I went out when there were about 10 left. I actually went all in on a hand that I figured I’d lose but I had had my fill of second-hand smoke and the Rules and Regs of Poker under such conditions.

I also got my eye full of men in wife beaters, scantily clad women who really thought they were sexy dancing to Shania Twain and a woman who thought she was so good at riding the bull she'd stand on it barefoot and ride. Um, yeah, about that head injury..

Will I go back? Probably. I like to play cards. I got to dance once or twice. And the place wasn’t packed like it is on a Saturday night, which I enjoy. I do wish the smoke didn’t have to be a part of the atmosphere, however as I have a raging nicotine headache today. But it is a good reminder of how strange some people are. I hope none at the table went home to blog about me.