two dollar poker

This is my life so far. Two dollar poker.


Instead of partying on Saturday night, I was at Bon's house teaching his homeboys a lesson in poker (read as kicking their asses).


There was his brother Pierre, his godbrother Ray and Pierre's friend, Joseph. After gnawing on ribs at Boston Pizza, Bon just decided not to drive all the way to Richmond were my co-workers are getting drunk at our Christmas party. He decided to just go home and play poker instead. Boy, was I pissed. I actually dressed up and put on make-up because I thought, even though it was already almost midnight, he would still drop me off at the Blox where I gave my word to my co-workers that I'd come since someone hooked me up with a VIP pass.


But I had to back down on that one. For some reason, I didn't want him to feel like my bitch in front of his buddies.


So we went home and pooled in two bucks for each game session. Winner takes all in no limit texas hold 'em. I was about to lay it down easy and actually play straight but they had to be lippy. Something about their aggressiveness irritated me. It was arrogance backed by ignorance of how the game is played. After a few sessions of watching World Poker Tour on the idiotbox, they think they know it all. It was a home game, amongst acquaintances but it seemed like a war between nations. They were pushing me needlessly, calling my raises or bets with nothing at all. That kind of weakness only calls for more blood.


That was the easiest eight bucks ever.


Yep, only eight bucks. After one game, Bon and Pierre were called into an "emergency family meeting" by their big bro Ian. Yep, the one who's freaked out about his impending wedding. They locked themselves in the computer room for an all-out-shout-session blaming each other for what hasn't been done yet and the wedding is only a couple of days away.