The Oddities of a Solo Rage

I ended up folding. The play of the villain stank of the $25NL games I used to play in regularly. Passive play, limping, and if you eventually managed to hit the nuts, JAM. In the end, I figured I was beat. The villain had no concept of a value bet, because I would have paid off a pot-sized bet on the river. Easily. I got most of his money later.

****

So it was Election Tuesday, and the G-Vegas 4 were not to play together for the first time in weeks. Still, as is BadBlood's wont, a poker night is not to be wasted. It was with little anticipation that I made my way to Chang's, flying solo. It was rainy, as it seems to always be, and I walked into the bar. Prior to sitting down, I hit up the restroom, and when I finally got to an empty seat at the bar, a dirty Grey Goose martini was waiting for me.

Nice.

Still early, the bar was not crowded. The waitress asked me if I wanted to put my order in for lettuce wraps; I told her I was going with the Hot 'n Sour soup instead. "Good choice," she replied and my evening was off to a fine start. There was one other patron sitting next to me. We exchanged small talk, both of us upset at the news of K-Fed's impending loss of access to what was at one point the finest ass in show business. Sucks to be him.

The bartendress refilled my drink as the talk shifted to Outback Steakhouse's parent company selling its business. Apparently, they own Carabas and other fine establishments. I told whomever was listening about the Bonita Spring's Carabas in Florida and their 5pm Happy Hour. Two-for-one drinks. A wink and a nod later, and my Chang's bill was absent one martini.

Nice.

It was still too early to head to the game, and I was done with my Chang's experience. At the Gaelic game, I'm currently a loser - five sessions and only once on the plus side. I needed to remedy the situation. I called upon The Procedure. With apologies to Chris Jericho, I've never....EVER...lost at poker when following The Procedure. I don't know why, but I don't care either. It just works. With that plan in mind, I made my way to the land of two dollar bills.

I don't need to spend much time nor much money there. A simple, standard dance will do. As I was double fisting some Coors Light, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Much to my surprise, it was my fellow PF Chang's bar mate who I'd met an hour earlier. Great minds apparently think alike. His excuse was that traffic was too busy to even consider a drive back to his home town near Charlotte. My excuse was that I needed to win at poker. "Hugh" and I continued the small talk, made even smaller by the approach of two entertainers. Satisfying my criteria, I partook of the offer made to me; The Procedure was in full effect.

Two nameless songs later, I left and drove the rainy drive down to the Gaelic Game. I sat at the main table, with the Spring Hotel Steel Lady fan dealer. Meg brought me a Red Bull and Vodka without any prompting.

Nice.

I played an OK game, winning and losing pots with bluffs. The cards were dry. I won the blinds with Aces. I had Kings once and my re-raise pre-flop got Crispin to lay down pocket Jacks face up, apparently tired of losing pots to me. Jeff was there too. He played normally, oddly enough, at least for a while. He became bored and lapsed into Jeff-mode, placing $50 into the pot pre-deal. I was UTG and woke up with Queens. I limped.

Folded to the player on Jeff's left, he called for $50. I pushed. Jeff called blind and the other guy wilted under my pressure. Jeff had T3o. Even though he turned a ten, I found a way to not lose the hand. And that's basically all the poker I can remember. I had nothing, zip, nada. Still, I walked out of there near 2am with an extra $262 in my pocket.

The Procedure remains flawless. Long live The Procedure.