Damn this thread keeps delivering. Stay safe through the storm TST

I've got like 8 people staying at my house the next two nights, so I might not have too much free time. I'm in one of the safer areas, but thanks - hopefully these people have a house to go home to.

Pics of Kendra have this thread rapidly approaching WarmDeck status... need some of Marcy imo..

Great stories, can't wait to read when Josh hits Marcy tho.

That Weekend - Part 2

I walked away from the table and headed back to mine to find the table was about to break. I really had liked that table, even when you are there for the money, poker is more fun when you have a good feeling at the table between players. The tournament had died down, and so had the lists, so I signed up for 5-5 PLO and got called for a new table. I noticed a few well known pros from the area were there, but notably I saw the Asian Icebox. She was the oriental version of the Icebox that Matt Moore encountered out in Vegas. I don't know her name, but I have had the unfortunate chance of having to sit at the tables with her. She is about 6 feet tall, wearing heels that are at least 4-5", always made up, and she doesn't talk at all. She usually plays the biggest game running at HR, and she is very precise when it comes to bet sizes, value, and reading. She is stone cold when you try and strike up a conversation, and has a slight sense of entitlement.

Everyone bought in at or around the max of 1k and there was action galore, with 3 rebuys within 3 orbits. In the straddle I picked up AKK10 and was facing an open to 50 and two calls, I made it 220 to go and get only AI to call. Flop comes AK7. She checks to me and I bet 375, and 5 seconds later get put all in for the other 400 in my stack. It's such a sickening feeling when you get check-potted on flops like these. Twice in my life I have folded middle set on a relatively dry flop to a check/pot in PLO and been right both times. I have a blocker to the only hand that beats me, but I took a minute to think the hand through. The only hands she does this with is QJ10x or AAxx and probably not 77xx. I call after what seemed like an eternity, and after seeing my hand, she asked me what took so long to call....and flipped over AA78. So dirty, plus getting needled a little put me on tilt, because the inner nit in me felt like folding. A spade hits the turn, but a brick on the river felted me. She started talking and I could hear her, but I wasn't listening because I was in a little shock at getting slightly coolered. I told them to reserve the seat, I was going to get more money, but I wanted to re-evaluate whether I wanted to play anymore. This is the psychological torture that is PLO. I went out to smoke and Josh was out there telling me about his antics at the table. He was up 800 or so and was ready to stay there all night.

As we are talking, a familiar face walks out and lights up a Marlboro Red - Willy from Tim's game. He had been MIA recently because he was Tim's little go-fer and Tim had him away from the game for a while. There were no hard feelings between us, and it was kind of like seeing an old friend, but it had only been 6 months. He had recently caught a distribution charge for weed and was lying low, he was lucky he only got probation. During this time he had gotten a steady girlfriend who was naturally supermodel material and we were a little perplexed at how that had happened. Tim walked out too and he came to me and asked to walk and talk. Tim is a big boy, he doesn't walk anywhere unless it is important.

"I'm going to start up the game again, do you want to deal? I can't have Willy deal because he was the one dealing when the decks were set. If you bring a couple players I'll give you the whole night."

I told him that sounded like a plan and that I would make a few calls this weekend. I really didn't think that it was going to go off, but I figured I didn't have anything to lose. Mike's game was a ****show lately and Vito's game was running on his own credit, so I didn't see that running out too well. I know if I did this Tim would give me first option to deal, and it was much closer to home. They both went to go play and Josh went in as well. As I was about to light up another cigarette and forgetting I had a reserved seat in the room, Marcy came out and said she wasn't feeling well - she wanted to go home. I figured it would be better if we go eat AND head back home. Josh was cool with getting a ride home with Willy so we headed out.

I walk back in and tell them to open the seat, then walk straight out the front of the poker room and out to valet. It was a nice night - around 70F in the middle of winter. I tip the valet, get on the road, and think of where to go eat. Marcy isn't hungry and is visibly ill, and I was a little concerned that she was getting a nasty stomach flu that is so common here in Florida during tourist season. I pick up a sandwich at a late night store and figured I would stop by Walgreens to get her something for her cold. I open the door and Marcy pulls my arm keeping me from stepping out.

"Wait, I'm not really sick."

"You've been faking it? Why wouldn't you just tell me?"

"I'm feeling sick, but I'm not actually sick."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Liam, we need to talk. I'm pregnant."

Holy s*** the glasses of v8!

Whaaaaat?? She even said she was on the pill.

Why are all women deceptive liars?

Wow I didn't even put that together.

Oh boy

Marcy:
"That doesn't make any sense."

"Liam, we need to talk. I'm pregnant."

Maybe it's just me. But did any other dad's out there read that and relive being told that you were expecting your first born? And again experiencing the roller coaster of emotions it brings upon a man. OP, that's why I read, for moments like that... And you always ****ing deliver.

Have to say this thread is straight gold man... I've been reading since day one and feel you have quite a talent for telling a ****ing great story. Thank you for sharing w/ and I'll eagerly await the next installment.

God dang, women are slithery. Snakes in the grass! Keep it cut so you can see em coming. Thou shall never unleash de seed in the pits of the women, no matter what thy slithering mass may say. All you young bucks coming up in the game, my advice to you. Don't. Ever. Come. Inside. Practice thy pullout.


OP- My read is that obv you wouldn't put out that type of backstory about your babymutha, so I'm confident you weren't hit with news of your firstborn like that, or trapped. You seem to both run and play well IRL. Rock on man, and thank you again for sharing this great tale.

He tried to pull out.

**** that's one of my worst fears.

I might be MIA for another day or so - it's a birthday weekend for me and I have had guests over until today from the hurricane. Hopefully I can get the next chapter out tomorrow.

That Weekend - Part 3

I was mildly tilted at having Asian Icebox take all my monies that evening, but as soon as I heard those words, nothing else mattered. I sunk back into my car and it was like all the energy in my body had been zapped out. I suddenly had flashforwards in my mind about changing nasty diapers and babies throwing up everywhere. I thought about my freedom to get up and go play when I wanted, having no defined responsibility and being able to have control of where I took my life and adventures. I saw this all going up in smoke - I was going to have to sell this car and buy a minivan to carry all the diapers, food, baby clothes and it would never be clean. Staying up all night to take care of it, and the amount of money this was going to cost. I had been a bachelor for 33 years on this Earth and I had not had a child by choice. When and if I did want one, I wanted control over that decision. I felt that Marcy had trapped me, and this wouldn't have been the first time that a girl had done this to me, although it would have been the first successful time (that I know of).

"I'm two months pregnant Liam, I am pregnant with a local man who wanted to have a child before he was unable to. We just didn't do it with all the paperwork."

"What do you mean, what did he promise you?"

"He gave me that BMW, $25K in cash, and I had to promise to sign off rights to the child in the end. I can't afford school and my parents couldn't help me."

"I thought your parents made good money?"

"They did. My mom was an ADA and the dad was a senior officer in the New York State Police. There was a scandal and they were both fired. No pension, nothing. It really destroyed the life we had, and basically threw me out on the street."

"This is your way of paying through college? Letting some dude knock you up for money?"

"That sounds so ****ed up Liam. I'm not a whore. The guy is a Gulf War Vet. He wanted a kid and his wife left him while he was in Iraq. He's disabled and set up a proposition on some forum. I felt like it was the only way I could come up with 2nd semester money, plus I wanted to live the life I used to live. I shouldn't have to suffer from my parents' bad decisions."

I wasn't sure if she was being selfless or selfish from what she had said. As much as I am not a fan of cops, I have the utmost respect for the military and had no problem with what she was doing in that sense. Getting a BMW convertible out of it was a little extreme, but I guess she was concerned about keeping up appearances. The story seemed so extreme that I thought it was some scheme of hers to have a baby then tell me it was mine. I wanted some sort of proof.

"Look in the glove compartment. The car is registered in his name."

I opened it, and sure enough it was registered to some guy in Fort Myers. I looked him up, he was 42 years old and appeared to be the right age for the First Gulf War.

"Did he let you choose which color car you wanted?"

"**** you Liam, he gave me a price range to work with, so I found a slightly used one."

"What about the drinking/partying with Kendra? Don't you think that's a little bad for the baby?"

"I never drank at the club. I poured some OJ into a glass and drank it, and the pill I took with Kendra was advil. She didn't know the difference."

"You're a sneaky girl, you almost gave me a heart attack. I have the right to **** with you a little bit. Was the sex any good?"

"We didn't have sex, it was done artificially."

"So it was kinda on the bland side then I take it. Sex in a doctor's office isn't all its played up to be." She laughed and had a look on her face like she was replaying that day in her mind.

After hearing this, I wanted to go out and do jumping jacks and play in traffic. At the time, it was this massive pressure lifted off my shoulders. I wasn't looking to be a father, and Marcy was a freshman in college who would have had to change her life around if she were keeping the child. It was almost like I filled a void in her life - a relationship to go with this child, to keep out the loneliness and stigmas of her current condition. Marcy was very cool and level-headed, and even though she had made some crazy decisions in her life, she was still okay in my book. I was happy to be there for her and help her out emotionally, and if she wanted the sex, I had no problem with that either.

After getting home and having some late night fun, I laid awake in the dark for at least an hour as I usually do. I thought about all the options I had been offered. Paulie wanted a game at his house, Tim wanted his game back, and Mike was running on fumes. Could I trust Tim to run a straight game? Could I trust Mike to pay me what he owed me? Should I just start my own game and make less but keep it all cash with Paulie? Something had to give.

Hey man on the bright side at least you knew you could bust in her with no fear for the next 7 months. Shieeet that's a free roll!

That's what I was thinking after she told me about the other guy.

Is your name on here a play on Illmatic? Best CD ever....

I grew up on 90's hip hop. I still love that ****. Much better than the trash that passes for music nowadays.

Tim's Game - The Remix

I had forgotten to mention that I had started going into Paulie's deli in the mornings as part of my daily routine. He had bought the place a few years ago, it was a town landmark since the 1970s (which is a long time in South Florida). 90% of customers were over the age of 65, and it had a lot of old school foods, meats, pies that you wouldn't find elsewhere in town. It was like walking out of Florida and right back onto Long Island when I opened those doors. His wife and nephew basically were the managers there, and the rest of the crowd were not quite the sharpest tools in the shed, but I think that he wanted it that way. Paulie had started betting with Bookie, and betting big. I would walk back into his office where we sat there and smoked for hours just talking about the state of affairs of the home game. Paulie was making me aware of a new situation.

"I won 7000 off Golden State last night and Bookie is telling me I can't all get paid at once. Do you know what's up with him?"

"I know his father passed away and a lot of his money is locked up in a trust. It may take a while before he can access that, and if he needs it to run his business, its not going to work out well." I was letting Paulie know the truth because he was always straightforward with me. He was all bite and no bark, and I would rather be on his good side. He showed me how he ran his gig. He didn't have a license, but since he was a business owner that had to get around, he would drive like an old man. If he got stopped he had his bail money in his car, and that was just how he dealt with life. He told me his dad was a junkie in Manhattan in the late 70s-early 80s and he had been exposed to it early. He also had his own addiction problems, and had actually met Tim already in a rehab facility, so they were somewhat friendly.

"You know there's a game at Tim's tonight, I will be dealing if you want to come. Should be pretty easy money, he usually invites local rec players - no one from the cardroom."

He said he would stop by, and I called around to a few other guys that normally would play around here. This was a different clientele than the game up north - there was less money in general in our smaller town, and less people to work with. I was able to get a few of the more bankrolled regulars to come to Tim's game under the premise that I was dealing, and no funny stuff would be going down. That was a big concern for most of the players - many felt they had been cheated by either the rake or the deck, and I couldn't blame them. Tim had the ability to convince players that all was good, and was almost forceful in his tactics to get players to come by. I honestly think 2 or 3 players came because they just wanted to please Tim and didn't want him mad at them. I know Tim had been doing coke during most of the winter, he had gotten kicked out of the local cardroom for 2 weeks for throwing a chair, and threatened to have his ex-wife beat up some trash-talking girl at the 2/5 table - real classy stuff. One night, I was dumb enough to go with Derek and Jim to go score coke at some shady bar in town. We ended up meeting his ex there with her boyfriend and they hooked them up. I had no reason being there - Derek was wasted and Tim was on a bender himself.

I went home to take a nap, and when I had gotten up, I had a missed call from Tim. I called him back, and we were discussing the game when he dropped some ****ty news.

"So the game's gonna run, but I am going to let Mike deal some because he is going to bring a few players from up north." F#CK!

"Are these players bring any cash? How did he coax you in to doing this?"

"He gave me a story that his wife was going to leave him if he wasn't going to make any money this week."

"You promised me a full deal if I was going to come down and bring over players, reassure them that the game was 100% kosher."

"I have to let Mike deal - we won't have a strong game without his players."

Hearing this made my blood boil to the point that my ears were ringing. Not only had Tim promised a full night, but the way I saw it, Mike was funding his sportsbetting habit on my deal time. Mike is great with customer service, and can make a game run, but he is a ****ing weasel when it comes to owing people money. He would sell his family if it meant he was bankrolled for 5/10 or whatever he wanted to donk his money off at. I was curious how he was even going to get down there with his car blown.

I got there an hour early to talk with Tim - he lived only 5 minutes away so I would usually come over and play OFC with him and a few others anyway. I told him that Mike was there to run up his credit and would end up running his game into the ground. He said he would make sure that Mike would not get over his head and that I would never be pushed out of it. I reminded Tim that I had known him since the week he came down here, barely off heroin and would drive him places and I was his oldest friend around here. I felt a little reassured that Tim was aware of basic economics and as the game started, Mike had not shown. Around 7, we heard a truck with a broken exhaust pull up and a few minutes later, 4 people including Mike showed up through the doors. Mike had literally taxied these people to Tim's house knowing they would get eaten up by the game and Tim handed him $150 - $50 per player. He was selling off his players to the game for $50, true degen style. He was referring to the players as "his" players, and getting very possessive of them. About an hour later he asked if he needed me to jump in the box after he was felted with the $150 plus some credit from Tim.

"Nah, I'm good, just buy back in and run it up." I said with obvious sarcasm.

To be continued...

Keep it up. Always pumped to read an update! Also pics of Marcy

quality read, really good stories cheers for sharing

LOL the weekend part 3 had me feelin for ya til i read the rest.

excellent thread, 10/10 x)

from one degen to another, i know how painful and soul-crushingly alarming that whole situation is. esp if you're not liferolled properly.

When running a home game is the credit just part of it like the chips and cards? Could you run one in an area like you were in without extending any credit whatsoever?

In the past I have dealt and funded blackjack games (min $5 - max $100), and it's pretty hard not to lend someone money who has lost. The sad thing is that he is sitting across the table firing at you, and you probably won't get paid unless he wins. Tough business. As TST has implied, credit will usually kill most home games.

Redbuck is right - it doesn't matter how much money people have, you will always have to give out credit at most higher stake games. There are two types of people to lend to.

1. Working class guy with fixed income - he will always pay you in payments and keeps the game running.

2. Wealthy businessman type - people come to play with these guys, and they are always good on their money, but they wont bring 5k on them because they dont want to get robbed. They usually pay at once and are even better for the game.

Then you have degens. Guys who pay stuff back irregularly, never are seen again, or complain about it. People who think their luck is bad, or they are the greatest player in the world when winning. These are your wild cards - they can make a great game for everyone but you. Chasing them down can be a science until you just get pissed off and have to out them. I'm honestly shocked seeing all the debts owed on 2p2 by high stakes guys and they get away with it.

I tried to keep credit to 20% of the game's total profits.

Tim's Game - The Remix Part 2

Mike gave me a frazzled look like I just stiffed him. I did just try to stiff him of his sneaky ways. Mike was doing what he does best - get stuck and somehow walk away with money. He was going to try it at Tim's game and run the credit through the roof here, while somehow profiting every night. He went into the living room where Tim was kicked back watching the Blackhawks game, not caring what the **** was going on at his own house. Mike and Tim had a talk, which I assumed was about more credit. There was a little heated conversation, and Tim came out and said he needed Mike in the box. I spread the deck, got out of the box, and went outside for a smoke. I noticed there was an unfamiliar blue Trailblazer on the side of the road. I checked the registration and it was the same month as Mike's birthday. I looked inside and saw two car seats - had to be Mike's. Nice, I'd like to know where he's ratholing that money.

Tim came outside and I told him that it was ****ed up that Mike was getting half the box time. Tim proceeded to explain that Mike needed to pay back an old debt that was owed, and that he brought 3 of "his" players over.

"Those aren't his players, I know them from the cardroom just as well as him. Why are you going to let him run your game down before it even gets up?"

"I'm sorry man, you know I wouldn't screw you - Mike made a deal with me, he said he needed money so I told him he could play and deal."

"I took a chance coming over here, Vito might get pissed, and I brought players and myself to show the game has integrity. Mike has nothing to lose - how can you trust him?"

"We will work it out."

That was the problem. I was not the prime candidate for dealing because I actually got paid when the night was over. I didn't owe anyone money, and I was the only person that didn't sportsbet with Bookie. I only played in the game as a fill in because I knew it was -EV. To these guys, it was a fun time, whether it was just hanging out, prop betting, it was 100% recreational for them. It was all business to me, and some players didn't like that aspect of it. I told them that I wouldn't want to play in a game that I deal or host, because it is as if I am playing with their money against them. Most understood, but Bookie was not one of those people.

About 45 minutes later, Mike took a break and came outside to smoke as well. He smoked 305 lights - for those of you not familiar with them, they are bottom of the barrel tobacco. They are called 305s because they are made in some shady warehouse in Miami (305 is the area code), and they were $3.50 a pack.

"Is that a new car?" I asked.

"Yeah, I got it with $300 down. It's a 2005 with 140,000 miles, and cost $6000. It's great for the kids. I pay Rhett (car salesman) with buyins from the game so I don't even have to really pay for it."

"You really are a ****ing weasel, you know that. You run up debts with people all over town, including me. Then you come and dump credit at games, and somehow walk out with a few hundred bucks and a crybaby story. You wouldn't even have been here if it weren't for me - I invited you to this game, and now you think you have this player posse that is loyal to you. You are running down your own game and I am having to take those losses."

"Don't be such a ****ing Jew" He said with a wry smile.

I had that ringing noise in my ear and blood boiling where I couldn't hear anything - I was losing it.

"I swear to god, if you **** this game up or my interest in the Thursday game I'm going to take you in my van, and we are going to go for a ride. I know every inch of backroads in the Everglades, trust me - they'll never find you. Not that anyone will miss your deadbeat ass anyway."

"That's kind of violent." Mike was not a fighter.

"Well that's the Jew for you. Don't **** with my money. Don't come down here to this town anymore."

Willy signaled for me to come in and deal, and I ended up walking out of there with $300, which wasn't bad for a game in this area and only getting half the boxtime. I told Mike we had to set up a system where he would get money every night, but he had to stay off the table. Considering I threatened his life a few hours before, things ended relatively well.

It wasn't until Thursday that I got a call from Vito around noon. He said he wanted to have a meeting at his house before the game. I knew it was about Tim's game, and I wasn't looking forward to having to explain myself. Vito liked being a boss and he was a businessman about this whole venture at his house Thursday and Saturday nights. He just wasn't the guy to let another game run without him having a say about it. Mike called me earlier on, telling me he wasn't sure we would be having a game tonight. Mike was going to have to be the one to sweat this, because when it came down to it, he was the one who had everything to lose.

Whenever you mention Vito, I always picture Brad from Wolf of Wall Street:

That would fit him well, I always thought he was a direct copy of Vin Diesel from Boiler Room.