A Decent Proposal

It was during this same week that I had a very busy schedule relative to my typical week of life. Sally had asked if I wanted to go to Disney with Izzy - earlier in the year we went on a group trip and I bought a season's pass because I knew times like this would come up. This may sound kind of selfish, but Izzy had blonde hair and blue eyes just like I did, and whenever we had been out with her in public, everyone just assumed she was my daughter. The truth was I never wanted children, but if I did it would have been Izzy. I was living an alternative life, and as unhealthy as it seemed, it was satisfying. I was taking pictures of Izzy and sending them to Nicole, trying to show her I was good with kids, etc. since she had a daughter of her own. It seemed to be working, but who knows, for all I know she was still ****ing her ex or someone local - I really didn't know this girl.

Later on, on the ride home, I got a call from Josh. He had played the local $400 spring championship at the cardroom. He was so excited to talk about every hand. He even admitted some seriously donk plays, like 4-betting Q8o OOP and then check raising all in against an ex-dealer turned pro. He was 20 years old and had nothing to lose, and he had the balls to pull off those plays. He had gone from a semi-donkey to a semi-pro in a matter of months. Sally and Izzy were passed out so it made for a great 2.5 hour ride home because I-4 and 75 were so boring. He was chip leader for day 2 by a pretty good margin, and I was going to go rail him on Sunday with Tampa John. I even tried to buy some of his action but he declined.

As Thursday came around, I was tired of being idealistic that Mike could dig himself out of this hole of debt. Vito was not someone I wanted to do business with normally, but the location was just too good to pass up. Mike was meant for customer service, not management. On Thursday before the game, I showed up at Vito's with zero intentions of making any money dealing. I was going to play and let Mike deal. At this point, he owed me $1400 and he was going to be working for me tonight. I was able to play on my credit with the intention of running it up and letting him make a ton of tips on the tables, so either way, he was going to pay me a chunk of change. Before the game started, we had a little talk.

"I want to talk to you about this game, about selling it off and leaving in the positive. How does $7000 cash sound, and let me worry about the debts? I tried to give him a positive outlook considering how deep he was.

"I'm never gonna sell this game man, its a gold mine! This is the best location on the West Coast, and I get to stay away from going and looking for a job."

"How much money have you been walking away with the past few weeks?"

His demeanor changed, it went from happy-go-lucky to a flat lipped baby face. He wanted to talk, but he had nothing to say. I was looking closely as I usually do to get an idea of just how bad it was. Something wasn't right. He had a serious face on, but it wasn't a sad face. Something tells me that there was more going on than I knew. I figured it would help more that I was playing than dealing - I could pay more attention to buy-ins, credit loaned, rake, and tips. I was going to account for every dollar that comes and goes on that table.

The night went on and I really was just keeping the table going until 9, when a few more players including Vito arrived. Ah, the man of the hour, the man I wanted to felt. An hour went by of Vito running over the table with raises and c-bets and I whittled down from $625 to $545ish. OTB straddle I picked up AA and was facing a $25 raise from Vito UTG. I made it $100 knowing how sticky he is and he insta-called dropping 4 greens into the middle. We saw an AKQ flop, and without hesitation he threw out 4 more greens. Vito was a solid player that would occasionally play laggy, but he wasn't completely suicidal. As scary as this flop was, he had to have hit this hard to dump out $250. J10 suited was not something I was worried about - some players will raise it UTG; Vito was not one of them. Flush draws were unlikely because the combos would again be suited connectors and QJdd was possible but again unlikely. I call, and we see a 5 turn. I hear "all-in" to my left and look at Vito for about 5 seconds, taking in the moment of bliss where the hunter gets hunted. I call and Vito tables QQ for a nice cooler. The river bricked out and Vito turns his chair towards me and hands me his stacks of red personally with a smirk on his face. I gladly accepted them and Vito throws some hundreds at Mike to buy back in.

While I was usually dipping out early these days, I was going to hang around and help Mike with his redneck accounting. When I was outside smoking I was there staring at the game for any buy ins. I told one of the players to let me know if anyone bought in when I went to the bathroom. Around 2am, I was in a sort of stalemate with personal and business decisions. We were 6-handed, and I had $1180 on the table that people were eyeing, but it was keeping the action going. I was nitting it up and it was chipping away at my stack. It was keeping them chomping at the bit though, but the rake was important so that Mike could pay me what he owed. I was getting tired, and most of these guys were stuck. Normally I would cash out but that would break the game, I had to sit around to make sure that money was paid.

About a half hour later, I folded AK to a check raise face up on a low board to a guy who was stuck, but was pretty nitty and not a regular.

"What the **** is this, you going to be a nit all night?"

"That's why they call me the Jew." I tried to lighten the situation.

"I'm ****ing serious, are you not going to put a penny in the pot without a pair? I didn't come here to play with a bunch of ****ing nits."

"And if you play and act like this, you aren't going to be coming back here either. You were invited to this game, this isn't the cardroom. We treat people with respect here and if you aren't going to behave yourself then you can leave. If I told you I'm stuck $1400 in this game, would you believe me?"

We had a little staring competition, and I subtly pulled out my Microtech Troodon out of my pocket and clicked the button, waiting for him to move. I was itching to use this ****ing thing, I had paid $300 for it and the only thing I had cut so far was my skin by accident when I was ****ing around with it. What seemed like 10 minutes was really 30 seconds as Mike stopped the deal. As much as I wanted to stab the **** out of this guy, he was just tired and grumpy, and this was bad for business.

"Alright, I'm sorry, ****ing deal cards." He said, seemingly apologetic, but that guy was done here after that night.

The game broke at 4am when the "talker" finally felted someone in a cooler and decided to cash out even. I wasn't focused on him though, I was focused on Mike. I had 1150 in front of me, $500 of which was borrowed, so I was plus $650. Add $1400 to that mix, and Mike owed me $2k. I was getting all 2k of that money sometime real soon. I checked the rake, the tips, the credit, and Mike was +$1600 for once. As he went to cash me out. He stopped counting at $1000.

"Well don't stop there, it was just getting good!" I exclaimed, absolutely furious.

"This is all I can give you, I have like $200 left, and I have to go home with something."

"Oh is that right?"

"Yeah, its all I have," He said in a very non-convincing voice.

"Well do me a favor, clean up this ****, and I will see you outside when I'm done."

I went outside and had my creeper van parked so that he was blocked in between it and a tree in Vito's yard. I wasn't going to risk waking Vito up and causing even more trouble, so I sat in the van and messed around with the Troodon, somehow stabbing myself in the palm. Knives were getting too dangerous for me, I told myself to just stick to guns. Mikey appeared from the garage about 15 minutes later and put his hands up in a "WTF?" way because I had him blocked in.

"Listen buddy, I know the count, I know your tips, the rake, and how much you loaned. You have WAY more than $200 on you, and you have owed me for months. I have been way too nice to deal for free half the night for too long to get a sob story about how little money you have. Don't sportsbet MY ****ing money!"

"I owe a lot of people money man, Bookie, Nazi, Vito...."

"How many of them are ready to stab you and let you bleed out in the back of a van though?"

As angry as I was, I would never risk going to prison over a thousand bucks, but I sure would **** with his outlook on life. He didn't know any better though, and he became more understanding of the situation.

"Alright, I can give you 5, I need the rest for bills and I have to give Bookie something. Am I still gonna get stabbed?"

"I don't know, show me $500 and I'll think about it!"

He handed over $500 and I gave him a smile.

"See life is so much better when you pay people what you owe. I don't know if you're ever going to figure that out. Do you want to go to Waffle House?"

He declined, and I hopped in the van, threw it in drive, and headed out towards the interstate. It was times like these that I went into thought about how different life was here than where I was from. How many people had stiffed me over $50 or $100, a good friendship at that. One thing I hadn't checked was my phone. I had been texting Nicole, but after the nit incident, I didn't even bother looking. It was 450am and I saw that her last text was only a few minutes before. I gave her a call and she was up. She was asking what I was still doing up and I realized that she may not like this whole poker life. We were going to find out though, because she said she was going to come up on Wednesday because her ex had custody. Finally, something to look forward to after a night of degen.

Sorry I mean to put that Vito bet $150 on that flop, so 6 greens. Doesn't affect story but I want the recollection to be right.

I feel uncomfortable whenever you're threatening physical violence, especially with a knife/gun/taser in hand. Bringing out a knife against that new player is a pretty dumb move; I think it greatly increases the risk that your game or you could be robbed.

MOARR!!

Keep it up. Great reading as always!

I am never a big fan of physical violence. The person never saw the knife, it was under the table, and was for self defense in case he decided to lunge at me.

It has always been my belief that a place protected by guns would be less likely to be a robbery target. Most armed robberies are "armed" to intimidate the people there into giving up their valuables. If they know they are going to meet resistance they will just choose another target. Three times in my life I have had the need for a gun. The one time I didn't have one was the time I was robbed at gunpoint.

Aaaaaaaaaaand i'm caught up now. Took a little bit of time but now i'm in the same boat as everyone else. MOOOOAAAARRRRR!!!

I did lol at the Texas trip. Being from Houston I had a chuckle at the shady strip club story. Been to more then my fair share back in the day and it just brought back lots of memories of the idiots I used to hang out with who went for the $30 tug job.

Any way, thanks for sharing and keep it going!!!

Book hell, this needs to be an ongoing series on HBO. More entertaining and real than Breaking Bad.

Well done sir, well done.

Californication, but w FL and poker. We need someone younger than Duchovny to play OP. Or maybe more like Sons of Anarchy. A young OP climbing on the roof to write down his thoughts....

Very interested in the forthcoming rare plant write up.

Maybe Hunter Parrish will play OP in the series. Somebody get HBO on the phone, have their people call his people.

Johnny Rungood and Another Decent Proposal

That Sunday, I headed up to the cardroom to go watch Josh play the final day of the $400 championship once he had texted me they were down to 16 and he had a big lead. He had about 900k in chips and the next guy had 290k, so he was in a great place with to take it down. I didn't bother going to Vito's the night before, though I had been oddly invited. I thought Mike might go running to Vito, but I think he knew that keeping me around was a better business idea. Then again, I don't know if Mike even thought about things like that. I had no concern either way, and was focusing on the positive things - watching Josh and my Wednesday date.

Since the game had moved to German's, going to the cardroom was more of a social time than a time to grind and make money. I would be on a table most of the time, but it was 1/2, and I was there to recruit players. Getting aggressive and/or felting would be customers at the table might be short term positive, but was a big long term negative. Me being there was a face to a game. I had a lot of friends there and was definitely well known, not really for playing big stakes so much as just being an approachable, nice guy. One time I had a lady get me to fold 99 on an AA10A6 board and she showed me QJ, and I gave her a "nice bluff" sort of look. 20 minutes later, when I went out to smoke, she found me and stopped me to say she was sorry for showing it because another player had told her I was the nicest guy in the room. I think part of being the nice guy came with having to deal with so much bull**** in my other current ventures. Working at the pawn shop, dealing with degens at the game including my partner, I wanted to just be a nice person. I think it actually helped when I was facing tough decisions on the table there - people were less likely to bluff a nice guy they knew.

I walked in the door and Tampa John and Bookie were there. John had Josh staked, and Bookie had a couple others staked, so they both had interest. I just liked watching poker, I could watch it all day long. They were down to 11 at the time and by then all but one of Bookie's horses had been knocked out. Josh had a few million in chips and at point, John was starting to push the OPTAH rule by criticizing every hand Josh was playing. We were all sitting on an unused table next to the final two tables and had a pretty good view. At 10 they took a 20 minute break. Josh and I went out to smoke a cigarette and John was hot on his tail.

"I saw you show down KJo in a 3-bet pot OOP. What the **** is that ****?" John was being pretty critical of Josh's plays. He was not giving constructive criticism and it was making Josh feel uncomfortable. He said he was just going to play his A game and do his best.

"Dude, you have a 4 to 1 chiplead with 10 left. The pay jumps are massive, no one wants to bust. 3 and 4 bet the **** out of them, no one is going to 5-bet you light." I was trying to give him tournament advice even though I was a breakeven tourney player. I told him that John was just giving him a hard time because he wanted to see him win. The pay jumps were massive - 10 paid $1200, and 1st was $23,000.

They went back in, and 10th and 9th went down fast, with Josh busting 9th place with AK to AQ. Then play slowed down, going an hour and a half with no bustouts. Everyone was playing pretty solid and there was one all in and call that ended in a chop. Finally, one guy I had played with in St. Petersburg went all in UTG and it folded around to Josh. Josh tanked for two minutes. It was a 12 BB shove and I was curious what he would have to tank like that. KQ? AJ? It was for a fifth of his stack, and he slowly moved the chips in for a call. John lost his mind, almost getting himself in trouble with the floor. UTG tabled QQ and Josh tabled J10cc, I was not expecting to see that. The flop came J high, then a nice J on the turn, and a brick river. UTG was massively tilted and started berating Josh for the call. Josh gave no ****s, and at this point John was looking for him to make a deal. He though he could get Josh to get 1st place money if he could get the other six a five figure score. We crunched some numbers on the table, and if Josh took 22k, then the others would get 10,300, and the next place paid out $3500. John brought the slip over to Josh between hands, and after offering the deal, everyone took it within 30 seconds.

Josh took the winnings all in cash, and after some arguing back and forth, Josh got $9000 and was stuck with the tax bill at the end of the year. He kinda got **** on my John, and they had been friends for years. John really cared about the money, and that was it. What was equally as important though was this put Josh on the map of being a higher stakes player in the minds of a lot of people in the room. He would go on to some more glory in the future that got him staked at 5/10 and was the beginning of having some respect in the local poker community. He had made some donk plays, but it was clear he knew what he was doing.

The following morning I got a text from Tim about the game, he was sure it was going to run. Usually he would put out a text the night before, then confirm the next day. There was an overwhelming response to his texts apparently, and he thought he might have two tables. We had only had two tables twice during Tim's run, and it was a good sign. I had not been to Vito's game for some time, mostly because I just couldn't stand the guy, and I had heard that Mike and another dealer were stealing from the pots directly into the rake. ****in Mike, if he can't rake you to death he'll tip you to death. Apparently someone else there had been on to it, and caught Mike red-handed. Vito was pissed, the players were pissed, and Tim only had me to deal. They didn't trust Mike, Willy still had a bad mark on him from the cold deck, and Derek was staying away from Tim's because it was an easy out to fall off the wagon again.

I ended up dealing the whole night, luckily we didn't have two tables. There was an air of relaxation about the night where I didn't feel the need to have to watch anyone, worry about the rake, deal with ******* hosts, and it was nice. This was how a game should be run. Tim was giving out a decent amount of credit, but the game was running too well for him to care. It was like the previous summer all over again, just without the drama. The end of the night we even switched to 10-20 Limit Omaha because some guys wanted to learn but didn't want to lose stacks. I did something I had only done two other times dealing - I told them I had to stop. I was missing rake, not counting bets properly, and wasn't able to deal with any speed. Lack of sleep was getting to me and with the sun about to rise, I just wanted to check out and sleep all day. I had one more point of business though. I asked Tim to talk to me after the last guy left. He was tired but was listening because he had made 1500 that night and hadn't seen that money in 6 months.

"I was not expecting that kind of night after everything that went down at Vito's." Tim was going on about all the ideas he had to get more games going and other businesses.

"How about you take on a partner? Do you really want to trust anyone running games these days?" I was trying to get to the point.

"You know I won't ever sell my game, I'd rather kill it then sell it. I had to deal with Gerald and that cost me 4 grand."

"I'm not Gerald. You've known me for 4 years, much longer than anyone else here. I'm one of the few people that's come into this house not owing you money. What if I can make you an offer you can't refuse?"

"I'll think about it, but I'm not selling my game. You know me better than that."

I did know him better than that, but it didn't keep me from asking. I finally got out of there at 645am, and on my short drive home, I thought how glorious it was to not have Mike in the box, around the table, talking his talk. Seeing him walk around half-crosseyed in jeans too big for him with a hemp belt that hung down from the front and looked like a limp wang hanging off his jeans. No Vito watching Mike, micromanaging everything even though it wasn't his game, trying to get me to join Crossfit. More importantly, I had made $860, the most I had ever made in a night dealing. Maybe it wasn't even worth trying to buy the game. My mind was elsewhere though - I figured I would sleep all day, play a nice $20 nitament at the local Moose Lodge and drive the snowbirds crazy, then put my focus on Nicole. I couldn't take poker seriously the next 48 hours.

It will definitely be my next flashback. I will say that getting into it was a very integral part of my life and ties together my "old life" with my "new life".

Dates, Guns, and Planes

That Tuesday I did my usual routine. I was up to two jalapeno bagel dogs at the bagel shop, bringing them home and I would always search for some poker stream on Youtube or Twitch. I would either listen to Limon on LATB, Stapes and Hartigan on EPT, or Tuchman, Jamie Kerstetter et al. on Borgata streams. I have probably watched more tournament poker than anyone else that isn't paid to do so. In the middle of my first dog, I got a call from Mike which pissed me off because he was ****ing up my routine.

"So I guess you heard," he said in a very guilty tone.

"Yeah I heard you were literally taking people's money in the pot."

"No not that, I'm going to Vegas."

I've never heard anyone sound sadder about going to Vegas than Mike. It turned out Vito actually did something about Mike's antics. He was providing him with a round trip plane ticket, a three night stay at Planet Hollywood, and an audition for the WSOP that year. Mike had too many debts to pay, and there was an intervention at the Saturday night game. Bookie was chipping in because he was owed over 5k, and Mike had finally admitted he had a problem betting. Hearing this was music to my ears - Mike would be gone for the Thursday game, and might be gone for two months this coming summer. I was glad I didn't get an acceptance on that offer to buy the game, it was being handed to me to turn around for myself by the people who let it get out of control.

Mike was leaving tomorrow, so we had agreed that I get 75%, and the players there knew I wasn't going to lend out money like Mike did. I was going to bring in Josh to deal because I trusted him, Vito trusted him, and he was a good dealer. I had dealers from the cardroom coming up to me and asking if they could deal as well as hint about it while dealing to me at the tables there. I could pick anyone, but I have a hard time trusting anyone. Mike was going to do all the texting for the games, and I just had to provide it.

I decided to go down to the pawn shop and check on my money situation - tax time was coming up and I had to figure out what to do with 17k in cash that I couldn't declare. I could just buy a ton of guns, but that wasn't really the best investment. In the meantime, I couldn't pass up an offer Casey gave me on an Izhmash AK-47 that was her dad's, original Russian from the 90s that was in mint condition for $1200. I also picked up a handful of Carson City Morgan Dollars for another grand, she had gotten duped on a fake one and was tired of collecting them. She told me the shop was closing because she was tired of customers taking advantage of her relative kindness for a pawn shop owner. They had hired a friend of the family, this goofy kid from Missouri who seemed like a nice guy, but didn't understand that this was a rough trade. People will try and screw you any chance they get. This is where people like Donnie and Mike come to get the max value for anything they own that is valuable. He told me not to worry about it, that he had built his own 300 Blackout AR, and I gave him a sarcastic pat on the back. He was so mad, but there wasn't much he could do about me needling him. I watched him give 400 bucks for a used Glock 27 to pawn and knew he was going to kill the profitability of the shop.

The next day, I was getting a little nervous about the date with Nicole. I never got nervous about dates, but I wanted to impress her because she seemed classy and I had a good feeling about the whole thing. I wasn't fitting as nicely into my clothes as I used to, and was feeling a little bit self-conscious about it. I wasn't going to try anything froggy with her and was just going to be myself and not think of the game that had become my life. We had decided to meet at my house around 7pm, and like many experiences in my life, she was fashionably late at 8. I walked outside as she got out of the car, and it was like seeing a whole other side to her. I had known her as someone who wore PJs to Publix and didn't give any ****s. She had come in a short dark dress.....and it was fairly see through. My original plans to be the nice guy were becoming harder to keep to the more I saw her, but I was still going to try. We decided to go for a drive around town, I showed her the area, the beaches, but I stayed away from the beach where Kendra and I had hung out. We talked for a while out on one of the beaches about her life, her situation being a single mother, and though this often scares me, I wasn't fazed. For one, her daughter was almost 9, so she wasn't a baby anymore, and was easier to handle in my opinion. She also had a maturity level that came with age, something that Kendra and Marcy did not have. She knew what she wanted in life and wasn't trying to search for herself. She had a business she still was part owner of with her ex, and basically sold out her half for a smaller piece of the profits. She also made the first move and kissed me when I wasn't even sure if she was having a good time - I guess she was after all.

I ended up taking her to the nicer bar on the southside of town where I knew the bartender, bar manager, and bouncer. We used to play games in the back during slow nights - low stakes, but nevertheless fun. The bartender, Tommy, was someone I had known as a 1/2 player that often asked for advice. He took care of me and I took care of him. I had even staked him a few times figuring I would have a good bar tab to run up if he lost. Although this was a nicer bar in town, most places in town here were a sausage fest and Nicole was getting a lot of looks from the dudes there just to drink and creep. I couldn't leave her alone for 3 minutes - by the time I came back with our drinks, some dude in an Affliction shirt and camo pants was trying to talk to her. I sat down and he got the idea.

After a few drinks, Nicole was very touchy feely but not in the stupid drunk sort of manner. She asked if we could go home because she was getting a little creeped out and we made the trip back. When we got back, I looked in her car and saw a big backpack - was she counting on staying? I didn't even bother asking, she basically dragged me into my room and had stripped off both our clothes in 15 seconds. This was something I honestly wasn't expecting, and at this point was a little scared about because I didn't want her to go back home and disappear, and this just be a fun escapade for her while I get emotionally involved. In the moment though, I just let it happen, and I'm pretty sure the neighbor's dog started barking because of us. If you deny a girl who is ready to go, in my experience that will be your last chance with said girl. At the end of us getting it on, there was a loud metal drop on the side of the bed.

"What the hell was that?" She asked, concerned she had broken something.

"It was something I picked up today. It's an AK-47."

"Oh....ok." She seemed like she was trying to play it cool, but was genuinely scared.

Sure enough, at 3am, I got a call from Mike. Was this really happening? He was telling me that he had gotten in and was saying Vegas made him nostalgic. I knew he had called for something, and it wasn't to tell me how beautiful Vegas was. He asked if I could western union some money, that Wal-Mart would do it this time of night. I just hung up, I didn't have time for that part of my life to be here at this moment. I realized Nicole knew very little about my work other than I was in the botanical consulting business - she knew nothing about the game, she just knew I played poker regularly. I took a half a Soma and passed out until 1030am. Nicole was passed out when Mike called me, but when I woke up, she was nowhere to be seen. Last night was almost a dream, and Nicole was gone.

I was mad at myself - I let things go too far too fast yet again, and now I was left with a girl who just thought this was a one night thing. This was an ongoing problem in my life since college, I think I just went after women that just weren't looking for much. Maybe she was scared of the guns. Why did I keep setting myself up for failure with women? I kept on questioning myself - my sanity, my direction in life. I felt like this game had me living in an alternative, underground life where I didn't mingle well with the general population. All these ideas swarmed around my head as I laid my head back down and made sure I was geared up for tonight. I tired to focus on the positive even though Nicole's perfume was still lingering the pillow, almost as a tease to not let me forget the events of the previous evening.

I'm up at 7am reading these stories instead of sleeping. That's how well written these are, I hope they never end

I am trying my best to keep the timeline going, and with flashbacks and stuff, this will hopefully go for a while.

wow, I read it all in 2 days. Fantastic retelling sir. As for the women, I don't think you're really doing anything wrong - sometimes, it just happens

Flashbacks - How I Got Into Plants and Poker

August, 1998:

I had just moved to Long Island where my mom's grandparents were from from Richmond, Virginia. Due to a series of events that I had not much control over, I had the choice of either going to a boarding school for junior/senior year of HS, or going to the public school here on the island. Touring boarding schools with my dad in the dead of winter in Massachusetts and New Hampshire was the nut low for me. He really wanted me to go to Phillips Exeter Academy like he did or at least a school near that caliber. He hated the South and to this day has only been to Florida 3 times in the 12+ years I have lived here. Although I appreciated the education level of the schools, I didn't want to wear a coat and tie to school everyday, and I couldn't leave campus with a car or smoke cigarettes. That's how stupid I was - I turned down a school that nice because I couldn't smoke underage. Instead, I moved up with my mom to where she was from, and she rented a place there. She also found me a job waiting tables from the owner of a resort on the water. The owner was only open full time from July 4th to Labor Day, and let me stay in the boarding room with this guy from London. It was some of the best times of my life - we would make a few hundred doing wedding parties each weekend, the perks of which included drinking champagne in the attic that the hosts paid for, then could hang out at the bar or kitchen and make food whenever we wanted. We also played .50/1 7 card stud on Tuesday nights, and the Puerto Ricans next door who ran the kitchen offered me free dinners during the week in exchange for rides around the area. I ended up being a big winner in that game I assume by learning fast and having the owner, who was in his 60s at the time, teach me a lot of what he had learned while playing cards in the military. That was my first introduction to poker.


I was a junior in high school and had my own place right on the water, a Mercedes (old turbo diesel), and access to alcohol whenever I wanted. The high school was small and close knit, but they took me in and I became friends with pretty much everyone. Coming from a private school, I was not used to being able to wear whatever you want and eating in class. Class was a breeze and I had literally learned everything the previous two years in private school. The only class that was worth paying attention to was AP Calculus, which I had been kicked out of back in VA for reasons I will explain in another flashback. Parents of some of the smarter kids were highly tilted that I was getting 100s in basically every class and killing their kids's chances of becoming valedictorian. Turns out I wasn't qualified because I hadn't taken Regents classes, basically standardized learning. I didn't care anyway.

Fast forward a few years, I get accepted to Wake Forest University and take it over Connecticut College, and my dad was furious. Wake Forest was a Southern school and his alma mater was Conn College. He accepted it, but after a semester of frat parties with old friends from Richmond, I decided to transfer to Conn. I would be closer to family and the friends I had made in NY, and it just seemed like a good idea at the time. Upon getting there, I realized that Mohegan Sun was only 12 miles away - sweet! I ended up rooming with a film/computer science major my first semester there, and he made fake New Jersey IDs for a lot of people on campus. Jersey IDs at the time were basically the ****tiest grade ID you could get in the US. It was just laminate over a piece of plastic with typewriter style writing on it. I was told they worked fine there, and set off with a couple juniors one weekend who were there to play blackjack. I was a little nervous at first, but soon the regulars there at the $1/$2 limit game, which was basically all that ran back then in 2001, they saw I was not just some bratty kid. I would even go out and eat with them at their houses in Hartford and Mystic, they were all filthy rich but were playing this $20 buyin game.

By January of 2003, I was coming into my second semester of junior year and was ready to take the LSATs that spring. Instead of math like my dad wanted, I was an International Relations major, which was fairly demanding compared to other majors at that school. It was a stressful time due to some inter-family issues and I wanted to make my dad proud. One of my first classes that year was Ethnic Conflict in Europe. I was sitting around the large tables we used, and about 10 minutes into the first class I was sweating profusely and was in outerspace. My heart was racing and I had no idea what was going on. I ended up going to the bathroom twice to wash my face and pull it together, but this overwhelming anxiety, which I didn't understand at the time was taking over. I went to a night seminar and I couldn't walk in the door without feeling like I was going to have a heart attack. I ended up calling my parents, and my mom was understanding, but my dad was mad.

The next day I literally felt like I was going to die and went to the infirmary where they checked my vitals, saw I was sweating in 20 degree weather, and told me that this was not uncommon, that a lot of kids felt stress get to them this time of their college experience. To this day I'm not sure what the hell happened, but after a few days out of classes, I decided to head home to take a semester off. My dad was mad, but could deal with it now that he got his refund for the semester, and I was left with my belongings stuffed into my 1984 Chevy Caprice wagon headed home with no plan as to what I could do the next few months. I had come back with my head hung in shame, like I had failed life, even though I had a 3.7 GPA at school and a set future. My friends at home thought I was crazy, and I had no idea how all of this had happened. I had taken a huge detour on my highway of life, possibly getting off at the wrong exit and unable to get back on, ever.

love these stories.

However, i'm bothered by you saying your Lexus SC300 was a supra engine with lexus badges on it.

because...well.....they weren't.

I even scoured the internet looking to see if i was mistaken. but i don't think i am.

edit:
whoops, my mistake. it's got a NON TURBO supra engine in it.

great post, would read again...

but did you read it again?

I live close to and used to frequent Derby Lane, and sometimes Silks and THR... I remember the days where there was no NL, then the $100 max. I'm guessing by these stories that I have come across you or some of these characters at some point, although I haven't ventured very far outside the area for poker.

Anyway, you're def a good writer. Keep em coming.

Part II goooooo

Flashback - How I Got Into Plants and Poker - Part 2

As I was taking the ferry across Long Island Sound, I was still in shock as to why I had dropped out of college. My life options during this time were limited - the cost of living was very high where I lived, and if you weren't a yuppie, you were a townie. It looked like I was going to be a townie for a few months at least. I was treated as crazy in small town I lived in - people just couldn't believe I left school, nor could they understand why. I decided I wasn't going to go get just some job paying $12 an hour and hate my life. I had some mechanical experience and my mom's old Mercedes diesel was sitting in the driveway not working. I bought a parts car and started tearing the thing apart - I took two non-working vehicles and made them into one. In the meantime, I had no contact with my former closest friends from college - in fact I would never speak to them again. It's amazing how you find out who's really willing to be your friend when you are in a really dark place.

In April of 2003 my mom took a trip to see some friends near Sarasota, and she came back wanting to move down there. I pushed her to go ASAP, but we had to wait because we had to settle a legal dispute between my mother and her sister over their parents estate. I started not to give any ****s about where I lived, and just looked forward to Florida. I had started buying books on palms and other tropical plants and doing research, buying seeds, and posting on forums about growing oddities. I had been into palms since I was a kid, trying to grow coconuts at my grandparents place in Cocoa Beach in the 90s. I was getting into the more uncommon plants, things that were worth serious money, and tried to push the limits of growing tropical plants on Long Island. I realized it was in vain when the following winter came and most everything died even with protection. I had also made a few trips to Mohegan Sun, after the summer of 2003, the poker room had picked up and I was still keeping in touch with the regulars there, but not really playing any profitable stakes.

On April 21st, 2004, my mom and I packed our belongings and headed down to Florida. I had left my life behind in New York, and only once have I been back to visit, only to confirm there was nothing left for me there. I had been getting used to this moving thing, as I had moved from NY to VA, back to NY, and now FL. I felt like there was something down here for me. If you have ever seen the move Insomnia, there is a part where Hillary Swank tells Al Pacino that there are two types of people in Alaska - people who were born there, and people who moved there to get away from something else. I didn't see this as running away from my problems, but more moving towards something I was very interested in.

In August, my mom bought a house, and during those months, I had been collecting seeds from every palm I could find. My grandparents had left me some money as well, and I used this money to get a few things - a Mustang GT, a Suzuki SV650s, a ton of tools, etc. but I used it to bankroll my sprawling nursery. I found myself getting up every day as soon as I could to go out and work with my plants. Through some internet contacts, I ended up taking a part time job working on a palm farm with some soon to be friends where I learned the trade of collecting, growing, and selling rare plants. When I say palm farm, I mean it was an older hippie couple with too much money but a lot of old Miami money and contacts. They were my plant mentors and I would fly up 75 to go to their farm and pot up plants in the daytime heat while the owner just smoked weed and drank Michelob Ultra Light in the shed.

I was able to acquire some nursery space in late 2005 by impressing an orchid grower who had some extra space on the edge of town, and by early 2007 I had one of the largest collections of rare plants on the West Coast of FL. Unlike many other older growers, I was using the internet to expedite collecting rare seeds, and had the money to blow through a trial and error process. Whether it was Brazil, Vietnam, South Africa, Australia, Fiji, Mexico, Ecuador, New Caledonia, I would make it happen.

During this time, my neighbor was a Vietnam Vet who would have $20 tournaments on Saturdays. It consisted of him, his wife, and other friends from around town. Going there and playing, I really had to adjust to no limit but looking back at it, there was no strategy - you just couldn't treat it like a limit game. I also played $20 cash games with friends out on Siesta Key just south of Sarasota. Looking back on it, it was some of the worst poker I have ever seen or played myself. These games ended around New Years' 2006 when my friend was sprayed in the face with an irrigation sprinkler on his SV650s and crashed right into a palmetto with no helmet. That ended our beach parties, but I did find poker in another way. In October 2006, I was riding my motorcycle down 41 (main drag in town) when some drunk dude pulled out of a bar and cut me off, making me downshift hard and I popped a wheel that I couldn't control. I came down hard on my windshield but held the bike from falling. The burning pain set in the next morning and I could barely drive.

I went to multiple doctors and was told that it could heal in 6 months or 6 years. My cervical vertebrae were impinging on my spinal cord and my upper lats were all flared up. I wasn't supposed to lift much or do "laborious tasks". I loved what I did too much to just give it up, but that proved to be even worse than the accident. I ended up in the ER just two weeks later, depressed that I might not be able to do what I love, being told this could be a lifelong issue....again. I went home with prescriptions for Vicodin and Soma, unaware of what my next life move was, and wondered what I did to deserve this. In the meantime, I hired someone to do a lot of the leg work at the nursery, and basically took care of the sales and deliveries without lifting more than a 3 gallon pot.

I thought of poker, and was aware of the online element, but had only played live. I decided to do some reading on Super System, and didn't really know much about anything other than no limit. I went through the rest of the book and saw Omaha, and found it innately more interesting. After looking around, I decided to deposit $200 on Pokerstars and went on the hunt for some low stakes Omaha. It was time to get my feet wet.

OP- Excellent flashback to the origins of your plant hustling. never met a kid who was into growing coconuts at his grandparents place. hahah but good **** my man, you seem to be doing well for yourself. now. Everyday as I trudge to my cubicle I dream about taking 25k (retirement money) and moving to FL w no other plan than to enjoy life and play poker. have daughter here that I love more than anything or I would be playin your homegame. keep it up OP.