The Meat of the Matter

Back from Vegas

This is where we stayed. If you enlarge this photo enough, you can see Gayle and I in the 33rd story window.   Unlike the last two times I ventured forth to victimize Texas Hold 'em players with my superior cunning and poker prowess, this time I have returned with my tail between my legs. Over the last two days, I played a lot of very bad players with very good luck. Case in point: After being slaughtered the first morning by a yahoo from Indiana who stayed in on every hand until the river, when he would miraculously fill in his gut-shot straight, I was down to very few chips. I was dealt a suited king so I stayed in, and saw two kings on the flop. I had been playing *very* agressively all day, so when this happened I decided to slow-play to try and draw more players in. It worked. The guy next to me hadn't been dealt a hand all morning. Suddenly he's playing. He didn't raise when I limped in so I knew he didn't have a king. I figured him for two pair. I started raising, he kept calling. The river card was a measley three, and off suit. No straight or flushes could be made to beat my three kings. I went all in. He called! He had two threes down. Full house. I lose. Why did he stay in with threes and kings? It should have been obvious what I had. Bah! That was just one in many similar sad stories. My flight out was two hours late, and I arrived back home without my car keys. Where are they? I don't know. My car is still at the airport. So, Vegas is on my shit list. The last two days was kind of like being tied down and pecked to death by a very colorful, blind parakeet.