Night two of our week in Georgia, the boys (Cody and “Boy Cousin”) pressured all of us for a friendly, family poker tournament. Remembering last year, I told the boys that we could get a game going, but that it would be a serious game and that there would be no cheating, no stealing of chips, and no fooling around…that if they wanted to play, it would need to be a “Real” game. The three of us gathered the chips and cards, sat at the card table and then were joined by IM and her sister. I was pleased…this could actually turn out to be a fun game. As it was our first game, there was no money involved…this was our practice.
After setting up, distributing the chips and (once again) explaining the rules, I began to deal the cards. Everything began fine but after a few minutes, the boys decided that it would be good for their luck to transition into their alter egos. Now we are talking about two of the whitest 13 year old boy on the planet…their alter egos were men from Pakistan. They had been talking with a Pakistan / Indian accent since we go to the lake house two days earlier. My god they can be annoying…talking about 7/11, slurpies, Hindu gods and karma. Anyway, the game continued and so did my aggravation level. I guess, with all that has been going on with me, I was in no shape to try to play a serious game of poker with these fools. I did, though, think that having IM and her sister at the table with me would help to keep things in check. WRONG!!!! They were as bad as the boys. With my blood already at the beginning stages of a boil, I had to try to explain why you can’t get 3 pairs, how a small straight is NOTHING, and why they had to put in an ante…that it is just the way the game is played.
With nobody paying attention, betting large amounts on crap hands and turning around in their chairs to watch TV, I was about to blow a gasket. Then it came…the one that sent me flying over the edge…the entire table (IM and her sister as well) began to have a burping and farting contest, proclaiming that there is no other way to play cards in Georgia. I guess I would usually join in and think it was fun, but not this night. The odor was…visible…you could actually see the fumes rising around the table. It seemed to have an intoxicating effect on everyone there…except me. Everyone was laughing, clapping and leaning from side to side, trying to squeeze out a blast better than the last one. I had had it! I finally, decided that going “all-in” with a 2 and a 5 would be the best thing to do…so I did not have to quit. Now to most, this would be recognized as someone who just did not want to play any more…but NO… the entire table felt the need to start chanting, “you lost, you lost. We beat you, you suck, we are the best” etc. etc. I made my way out of the room, onto the deck for a few big breaths of fresh (clean) air…at times I actually with I meditated or knew yoga or something.
And I thought I had my homicidal thoughts under control.
I worry about tonight…we are supposed to have our first real game tonight…for money…LORD HELP ME!!!!
Maybe we’ll see Björk?
2 days ago
