Act III
The boys and I have been looking forward to this day. It is, after all, the day that jesse is comin’ to town and we’ll have a full quintet of the "guys' only" vacation assembled in Scottsdale- Sam included, of course. I had pre-arranged for Sam to pick me up sufficiently in time for the two us to gather jesse at the airport and even suggested to the boys that they accompany us to do so. One of them mumbled something to the effect that they’d be ready for lunch when we returned from the airport.
Riiiiiight.
I’d secured an extra bunk for jesse the day before he got there thinking that he’d be more comfortable sleeping alone than in the same room with a couple of teenage boys that think having “The Loudest Fart Contest” is still funny. Personally, I find that rather annoying at 1:43AM and I didn’t want my buddy thinking he’d have to tolerate such nonsense in the unlikely event he had some moral compunction about slapping those two silly when they were doing their dead-level best to peel the paint from the ceiling and kill every fly, mosquito and lizard in Scottsdale by way of fumigation.
After getting jesse situated, we went to the Scottsdale Apple store ‘cause my boy needed a fire wire to connect his video camera to his Mac Book. That place sure was crowded, too; and I’ve made a mental note never to go back on the day that those Mac folks introduce a new product. (The iPad came out that day.) And here’s a PSA for those of you living in the greater-Phoenix area that wanna save a lil time in that check-out line:
Don’t pay with cash!
My secret suspicion is that the Mac store employees are nothin’ but a bunch of heathens ‘cause it took ‘em a good fifteen minutes to make change for my “In God We Trust” fun tic. On a side note, I sure am glad that the CAZ has adopted a hassle-free, cash-for-chips policy; otherwise I might still be standin’ at the cage waitin’ on a couple of racks of redbirds to distribute among my opponents in a 20 game. I’m also pretty sure that the Mac store guy wanted to get even with me for wastin’ his time since I didn’t buy one of those iPads ‘cause he sold me the wrong goddam cable. I’m pleased to report that I had the last laugh because I never set foot in that store again. And in case anybody’s interested, I’ve got a fire wire that I’m willin’ to part with for 50% of the MSRP. PM for details.
We had a brief debate as to our lunch destination. Jesse and Sam were lobbying for
In-N-Out; my boy and I suggested
Five Guys. Ultimately, the prospect of the “Double Double” proved more than my boy and I could resist and I even got some Karma points for my acquiescence ‘cause Sam bought our lunch and the five of us got to drool over a red Ferrari with a plexiglass cover over its rear-mounted engine that was parked in the
In-N-Out lot. My boy then tested the limits of my over-indulgence by telling me that he wants one of those for his 16th birthday in August. When I told him, “There’s no way I’m buyin’ you a Ferrari for your birthday,” he thought for a moment, then decided to compromise.
“Well, I’m not askin’ for a
brand new one.”
Then I decided to compromise.
“Tell ya what, sport. If your Mom’ll pay half, I’m good for the other half.”
He’s now got his sights set on a ’03 Tacoma.
Jesse and I eventually made our way to CAZ and got seated in a 20 game. I had given some thought to playing the 40, but decided against it since 1) it’s played with a kill which makes the game 100/200 with $10 chips when the kill is on; and 2) I figured the regs would get pissed at me for slowing the game if I ever won a kill pot and had to stack all those chips while trying to play the next two orbits. I’m with you, boc- I hate kill games, too. It’s gotten to the point where I just say, “Raise. Now how many chips do I have to put in the pot?” (This is the only time I envy you “all in” guys.)
At any rate, HB was good enough to scout our table and make particular mention of a lag that’s seated two to jesse’s left. No offense meant Howard, but if that guy’s a lag, I’m Doyle Brunson and jesse’s DN. (No disrespect intended for Doyle and Daniel, ldo.) That guy was pretty crazy. I mean I’d have never thought to 3-bet an utg open with 32s when everybody else folded to me otb.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t tell you how much I admired jesse’s strategy in that game. I was in the seven seat and he was in the nine. Jesse’d fold after I opened, knowing full-well the maniac was gonna 3-bet my ass when he had position. Jesse- being a MIT grad- also knew I was going to sd when hu with the moran with damn-near any hand with which I opened. This allowed my cagey friend to narrow the idiot’s 3-betting range to any two-suited+; thereby extracting the most from him on rainbow, rag flops. I’m sure that jesse would have won a lot more if the old man on the lagtard’s left wouldn’t have been willing to call 3-cold with 22 or J9o. Jesse finished up a rack or so and I had my best session of the trip by only losing a stack and a half. Good times indeed.
I’ve already told you about DC’s generosity in giving me a handful of free drink tickets my first night at the CAZ. In case I forgot mention it, he also reneged on taking me to dinner… twice. But he had had good excuses both times. His wife apparently promised him sexual favors if he’d cancel the first time. He couldn’t take jesse and me the second time ‘cause he had a Band-Aid on one of his fingers. I know this ‘cause he wore it to dinner at my place on Wednesday. I don’t want to belabor this matter; but, the dinner score now stands at leo:2, DC:0.
Fortunately, boc and SS (Sorry buddy, I just can’t remember all of those numbers.) showed up just in time to rescue me from a multi-rack loss. I believe it was jesse that suggested we all go back to camp and “drink a few beers.” I have three (fuzzy) recollections about the remainder of that night.
1)We made it back to camp.
2)We drank more than a few beers.
3)SS feel asleep before I did.
Jesse did a fine job of chronicling how I ran on Tuesday night so I'm just gonna skip right to our dinner party on Wednesday for Act IV.
Two Plus Two
your work Leo
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