It's Tuesday morning and I wake up out of what seemed to be a good long
sleep after the Nine Inch Nails concert. But, unfortunately it's only
10:30am Eastern Standard Time. Since I'm up, I figure I better recheck
my fantasy football scores just to make sure I really am 5-0 in one
league and it really all isn't just some sort of dream. Espn's Fantasy
Football scoring system confirms that the "Downriver Stat Hogs" are
indeed 5-0 and I give the internal fistpump just like I do every time I
see an ex-girlfriend of mine on that television show "Cops" getting beat
up in a domestic violence dispute.

I pretty much hate the fact that I'm up before noon. But, today I do
have to give a friend a ride home to Redford. So, I figure I can get
that out of the way early. On the ride back to my condo I debate
stopping at a whole foods store to pick up some health food/hipster type shit to make breakfast with but I decide I don't want to be a pussy
like that and I opt to stop at a Bob Evans, slam some biscuits + gravy,
and eat like a real man.

Even though I am still irate about the Bob Evan's powers that be taking
the blue Kool-Aid off the menu, I decide to leave the waitress a $5.00
tip because she was a nice old lady and not one of those tatted up meth
heads that serve you at a Waffle House. As I'm leaving the
establishment, I take the newspaper I was reading and put it right where
it belongs....the trash.

So, I get home and a text from my friend Rex comes in that says, "Frying
up fish here at MGM Detroit, you want me to save you a Chilean Sea
Bass? I know that's your favorite Big Shooter."

"Sure," I reply. "Put me on the list. I'll bring this new marinade."

I take a quick shower and carefully select the most degenerate looking
outfit I can assemble. I opt for a pair of old, worn, and tattered new
balance shoes, nike shorts, a lacoste gator shirt, no socks, and a hat
that says, "BCAUSE MURICA!!! THAT'S WHY." I top it all off with a spray
of Old Spice cologne and away I go.

When I arrive I am sat at the table next to a fat old pompous republican
who won't stop talking about how Las Vegas Bally's waitress staff needs
to be overhauled. He proceeds to tell me that the women who were hired
in for their "tits and ass" 20-30 years ago should be let go because
they no longer have a nice set of "tits and ass." I asked him if there
could be any point where a casino patron might value the personality or
service the woman provides as a waitress over the importance of her
"tits and ass" and he says, "Oh my god. Don't talk to me. You're what's
ruining America. You don't believe in the best person for a job. You
must be a liberal."

While I am every bit a pig as this old man and enjoy sexually
objectifying women on a constant basis when they're dressed in
provocative clothing...I did find it dumb that he wouldn't even consider
letting women over 40 wear an alternative work uniform or perhaps some
sort of agreement where they move the employee to another job within the
casino.

He had a hard line stance of, "If you get hired in for your tits and
ass, you get shipped out when your tits and ass are no longer
appealing."

I figure a guy like this must be hated by his wife and kids and he
assured me he was happily divorced.

We eventually found some common
ground when it came to talking about the Detroit Lions, though.

The main feature of the table was two lesbians that had recently been
married. One was a brunette overweight woman wearing a Detroit Red Wings
jersey and a pair of old man sunglasses. The other was a tall thin
blonde that was obviously a shell of her former self but at one time had
been very attractive. This woman wore a leather bomber, Reebok jogging
pants, dark sunglasses, and from my estimation was the woman in the
marriage.

As the poker session went on, the leather bomber eventually came off and
it was clear to see this blonde haired lesbian still had the waist line
dialed in tight and despite wearing jogging pants..you could see she
still had a nice ass. So, when the newly married couple got up to go eat
lunch, the blonde quickly became a hot topic. My guess was that the
larger one went jedi mind control and converted the blonde to lesbian
love. Obviously, the republican agreed because there's no way that any
person could be born gay. One of the frail veggie burrito hipster douche bag poker playing dudes is like, "I don't think that's any of your guys
business." Even the dealer tells him to shut the fuck up after he says
something like that.

Finally, a guy at the table named Will, who I've
nicknamed "The Grapevine" says, "She used to be married to a black guy."

I'm like damn, "So, she's into interracial and girls? Hot."

Since Will is black I'm like, "You've gotta get on that man. Ruin the
other girls life. I thought once they go black they never come back?"

Anyway, as the conversation continues a new black man sits down at the
table. He's got a 5-oclock shadow, prada shades, and is sporting a
business suit. He won't stop talking about all the loans he's been
closing and houses he's been selling. I don't care, though because he's
throwing his money around and making every pot $15-$50 to go. This is
the kind of guy that makes it rain on strippers and on my bankroll. So,
he's fine with me.

Eventually, the two ladies arrive back from lunch and this is where the true gem of this story occurs....

You see, in poker the best hand is AA, pocket aces. When you have a hand
like AA it's typical to raise to $15-$20 and you expect to be called by
other good hands. But, no matter what hand calls you. Your pocket aces
will always have around an 80% chance of winning the pot. Therefore,
people get more upset when their pocket aces get cracked then one of our
American drone strikes blow up an innocent Afghanistan woman and her
children.

Perfectly understandable, right?

Now, on the flip side, a hand like King 4 suited isn't even in the top
30% of hands. Against AA it might only have around a 15% chance of
winning. You never have any business of calling a $15-$20 raise with
King 4 suited and when you call a big raise with hands like this it's
often looked down upon by those at the table that take the game too
seriously.

Personally, I enjoy when people call my raises with whatever two cards
they want. I view all players at the table as my loyal customers and I
am happy to take them on with whatever two cards they'd like to try to
beat me with or outplay me with. I don't ever get mad or berate other
poker players for what they want to play. If I lose, I lose. Doesn't
matter if I lose to 72 offsuit, the worst hand in the game, I always
remain positive and make sure the table is a fun filled atmosphere.

I despise when other players get upset and say rude things to players who beat them with bad hands like King 4 suited.

So, onto the hand...

The lesbian lady with the Red Wings jersey on is first to act and she
pumps it up to $17 to go. After that $17, she's got an additional $150
she can bet behind it.

It folds around to the sharp dressed black man wearing Prada sunglasses
in the big blind and he quickly calls the $17. After that $17, he's got
an additional $200 he can bet behind it.

The flop comes down 4 4 8.

The black man leads out $25.

The lady grips her chips and slams them down into the pot with authority and announces, "All in."

The black man quickly calls.

Turn is another 8. River is a Queen.

The lady proudly smacks down her pocket aces.

The black man says, "No Good. King Four. Ship it!!!!"

As the lady is shaking her head in disgust she says, "You called me with
King Four? King Four? You fucking suck. Why would you do that?"

While the black man is calmly stacking his chips, he takes time to lower
his sunglasses and make direct eye contact, then says, "Bitch. Because I
can afford to...."