Poker? I Don't Even Know Her!

After eating some bison burgers (excellent) and some "notdogs" (seemed good at the time. In retrospect...yuck) at a friend's place, and basking in the beautiful, bug-free Minnesota sun last night, I headed home, grabbed a Leinie's Sunset Wheat and fired up the poker mechanism.

I sat down at a .01/.02 to get warmed up. Mr. Parx was on the My Little Pony chat thingy, so I hit him up and had him sweat me for a bit. We talked a little bit about the hit-n-run theory of getting in-banking some cash-and getting out. I agreed to hit and run. If I got up to $7 from my $5 buy-in, I would leave the table and look for fish in deeper waters.

I was up to well over $7 in about 25 minutes or so, but I refused to budge. I was having a good time being the table captain, all my bets and raises were respected, and I was making money. OK, not A LOT of money, but money nonetheless. Parx reminded me of our bargain, but I refused to leave.

About five minutes later, I took a huge hit when my two pair ran into a nicely disguised and well played set of threes. I hit two pair on the flop, led out the betting and he just followed along. Up from $7+ to just a cunt hair over $2.50.

Damned dirty apes!

TILT. TILT. TILT. TILT.

My self-appointed stop time was 10:30pm. By this point it was 10:45pm, but I wouldn't go away. MUST..MAKE...MONEY...BACK...GET..TO...EVEN...

I didn't get there at that table. I got up to around $3, but couldn't get the cards to play effectively. So I did the cardinal sin of poker whilst tilting:

I jumped two levels.

I completely bypassed the .02/.04 level and went to .05/.10, praying to the sweet baby jebus (on 6/6/06, no less) to grant me the serenity to kick some fucking ass.

First hand, I'm dealt A6c. Limped to me. I pop it to .40 and get two callers. The flop comes down J66 rainbow. Saaaa-weet. Checked to me. I bet about 1/2 the pot. Get one caller, the other guy folds. The turn comes down a 9. I KNEW this guy had a Jack and was going to take me to the river. He fires out a $1 bet. I raise to $2, he calls. River is an ace, and bingo, I'm full housing it. He bets out $2, I raise it to $3. He calls.

I scream, "SHIP IT!".

A beeeyoootiful pot comes my way, and I more than make up the money I lost on the .01/.02 table. I believe he had AJo. I KNOW he had the Jack. I'll have to double-check the hand history. AJ makes sense with the big river bet and call.

At this point, it's getting on 11:30pm, and I decide to heed Mr. Parx's advice, and I get the fuck out of there.

I know it's a dumb, dumb, dumb idea to tilt-jump. Believe me, I know. I'm just glad it worked out...this time.

I'm Michael J. Fox, and that's one to grow on.