The lady is not for tilting
Struggling to keep myself together, to shut out a cacaphony of distraction around me, I called a raise from the semi-mulletted fellow two seats to my right. The flop was as ragged as my nerves. I was still reeling from a beat a few hands earlier so passively allowed the flop to go check, check. A seven appeared on the turn and, checked to me, I tossed a big bet in. My tatooed opponent, called. River card I don’t remember. Action I don’t remember. I only remember this - I flipped over my pocket sixes, and he flipped over seven-deuce. The ever lovin’ goddam favorite of poker bloggers certain-to-tilt-Ghandi himself hammer.
My tatooed, semi-mulletted (he insists it’s a pony tail) opponent, G-Cox smiled and said “I had to play it.” As soon as I saw it I said, “I have to talk a walk” and immediately did so.
As wonderful as the Okie-Vegas gathering was, I did have this one nasty moment. The festivities - bad-beats, booze, people and karaoke became a tad overwhelming for this lil’ ol geezerette. It’s kinda normal - you see, it’s happened every trip to Vegas. I reach a tipping point and have learned to remove myself and go find a quiet place. Not easy to do in Vegas (however - the women’s bathroom outside of Bouchon at the Venetian has to be the serenest place I’ve found in Vegas to date). Easier to do in Okie-Vegas - I went outside and strolled up the block.
I calmed myself while sitting on the curb and commiserated with the neighborhood felines. I had a couple of choices - I could allow this tilt to take over and dampen the rest of the evening, or I could send it packing, get back inside and enjoy the good company and good times. Ultimately, and not without a bit of difficulty, I chose the latter.
A shot of 1800 smoothed my way back to the table. I promptly pushed my remaining stack in on pocket fives and I believe got no less than four callers. I looked up at Gary, who was standing off from the table, and said “I’m fucked.” Gary announced to the rest of the house “You hear that? Maudie’s fucked!!!” It was hilarious (my belated apologies, by the way, for dropping the f-bomb…).
I lost my wad in more ways than one that evening. However, I managed to get back the part that really mattered which was my ability to enjoy the times with the people. Yeah, poker is about winning money, but as I’ve mumbled more than a few times at a few tables, if you’re not having a good time, then why do it? Kinda applies to most things in general, eh?
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August 1st, 2007 at 12:09 pm
Out of the three people who know that the title is a reference to a Christopher Fry play (I’m betting on BG for being one of the over-literate types, not sure who the other one will be), I bet $10 I’m the only reader you’ve got who’s actually performed the play! I was Humphrey Devise in a college production in 1993, I think.
I’ll pay up in Vegas in December if anyone else that reads your blog was actually in the play.
August 1st, 2007 at 2:12 pm
My stomach does back flips just reading that. I know you took some horrendous beats that weekend. I’m glad you’ve been able to step back and find the humor (in some of it). I’m not so sure I would have been able to handle it as gracefully.
August 2nd, 2007 at 10:12 pm
Falstaff - kudos!! I’ve never done the play, but have seen it.
23Skidoo - I’ve learned not to take life so serious. Most times I’m successful. You just need to step back and remember what’s really important and of value - after that, the rest is easy.