He's amazing in The Machinist, The Fighter (supporting role, though), American Hustle... I'm sure there are others that don't come immediately to mind.

Homegame in Vermont

My dad can say all he wants about Vermont, he's just gotten tired of it. When I go there, I love being out in the middle of the day in the summer without getting fried, and being able to take curvy roads and enjoy wide open spaces. I felt like I could look out the 2nd floor window in our bedroom and see 100 miles, it just so happened that we had a great view of the mountains as well. Walking around downtown Middlebury is very neat, almost like a European town with small shops and a river running through it, as well as local foods and no franchises. I have had memories here since 2002, when I drove up from Connecticut College to the winter formal at Middlebury with my best friend Sean to meet his twin brother Jeff who went to school there. My date was the daughter of the CEO of Racetrac, she was from Atlanta and although her family was insanely rich, she was very cool and down to Earth. One thing she couldn't hide money-wise was the fact that she had a brand new Range Rover, so we drove up in that and slept in the common room in the dorm. The night of the formal, we drank Sambuca Black and 151 and Jeff's roommate was a semi-famous DJ from Caracas. He broke out the turntables, and by the time we got to the dance Sean was puking everywhere. I remember sleeping on the couch at 6am with him puking his brains out in the bathroom from then until the time we had gotten home, getting my date's Range Rover covered in puke. Coming up here was a nostalgic adventure, almost like that of another life I had once lived.

After showing Nicole around town, the small markets, etc. she wanted to move here full time. She didn't understand freezing weather and it was ****ing cold here in winter. There was, however, great snowboarding in the area, and that brings me to my friend Barrett. Barrett was a friend of mine from private school in Virginia, he was raised in a traditional Southern family and was extremely conservative. I lived 5 houses down from him for most of my life in Virginia, and we hung out for most of grade school. He switched schools junior year and something in him changed. He turned into the punk/skateboarding scene and rebelled against his family, eventually landing him an entrance to Champlain College in Burlington. After about 4 years of being high as a kite, he decided he didn't want to leave town and got a job at Burton, and had moved his way up the ladder in the past 8 or so years. It was ironic because before his move to a boarding school out of town, my mom used to take both of us snowboarding in Virginia and had gotten him into it originally. I have to give him credit though - he did what he enjoyed and made a great living out of it.

I had been to his place a few times before - he had a duplex in a nice area right on the hill overlooking the lake. Burlington was like the San Francisco of the East Coast, very progressive and very overpriced. Back in the 80s, it was the headquarters of IBM, and a lot of money came in. Since IBM went downhill, it wasn't quite the tech haven it once was, but a lot of young and old professionals alike made the town feel quite larger than the 100,000 it claimed to have on the census. It was by far the largest town in Vermont, and most diverse, which wasn't saying much for the most homogenous white population in the US.

I rung the doorbell to his side of the house and he told me to meet him in the garage. As the door opened, all I could see lining both sides of the walls were nothing but snowboards, no gear, literally over 100 boards leaning up like pillars towards the door inside. He was happy to see me - I was probably the only person from back in Virginia he really talked to. I commented on the sheer number of boards and he handed me a couple of them to give to me, Nicole, my dad, his girlfriend, my 2nd cousin's niece, you name it. He told me legally he couldn't sell them, they were old stock and he could lose his job. We went upstairs (all staircases are steep in VT) and made it up to his living room. His place looked like it had stopped in time somewhere around 1984. Thick carpeting, everything was mirrored, and mosaic tiles in the kitchen. It also reeked heavily of high grade weed. We talked for a bit up there and discussed what was going on in his life. He was headed to Shenzen in China to oversee a manufacturing facility being built there, and I told him to check out Macau if he got a chance.

"Oh YEAH, you still play poker professionally RIGHT?" He was so interested to hear about it, but I wasn't sure how much of that enthusiasm was from massive bong rips that he had just taken. "DUDE, you know they play a game further up the hill toward UVM? There's always a lot of chips flying around in that game."

"Well when do they play?" I was curious about playing up here. Foxwoods and Mohegan Sun were 4 hours away, and I think Turning Stone was the same distance. I was closer to the Playground Club in Montreal and had thought about going there, but Nicole hadn't brought her passport/birth certificate, so it would be me going solo.

"Those guys play a game every night, we should go check them out! DUDE, I totally forgot you play poker man, this is going to be so cool!"

Well, I'll be the judge of that. He had no idea what game they played, what limits, what the rake was, or how good they were. It's not a big deal when you walk into a casino, but it is when you walk into a home game and there is zero game selection. Barrett insisted that we walk up to the place, and having lived in Florida for so long, as well as being out of shape, walking uphill really sucks. The hill in downtown Burlington is steep, and it was started to get a little too cold outside for my taste. After what felt like an hour we finally made it to this old, huge 3 story house. Again, its been 12 years since I was used to multistory abodes, so walking up multiple flights of stairs really made me feel out of shape. It didn't help that I smoked over a pack of Seneca Menthols a day (another story altogether). We came to a landing on the third floor and you could see the whole level from where I was standing. It was basically one long playroom with some beds to the side and a curtain for a shower. Imagine if the Chesterfield in Rounders was in a finished attic space, and looked more like an opium den than a cardroom. Some dude was passed out on the couch with dreadlocks, and I noticed I was the only person that didn't have long hair in the whole establishment.

"Hey Drew, this is my friend Liam from Florida and his girlfriend, he plays poker, a lot!" Thanks for blowing up my spot Barrett. He told me these were all UVM grad or doctorate students - they looked like the extras from Half Baked to me. Don't get me wrong, I have and will smoke weed on occasion, but its not a way of life for me. When people get so lazy they don't shower and change clothes, that's where I draw the line.

"What game are you guys playing?" I asked, wanting to play myself.

"1/2 No Limit.........Tahoe" What the ****....... I had heard of Tahoe multiple times, but never heard of anyone playing it in Florida. I knew it was somewhat like Omaha with 3 cards, but more dangerous as you could use 1 or 2 cards from your hand, and any amount from the board. It sounds really neat, and I couldn't turn down a game. These guys were high as a kite and couldn't possibly be on point. I bought in for 200 like everyone else had, but it was murderous. I was down 3 buy ins and couldn't even explain how I lost it. I probably looked like a fool too, but I was never a big fan of 3 card variants of poker. Pineapple, Tahoe, 211, they just weren't games that interested me. I asked them where they had even learned to play this game and one of them said they were in LA and someone introduced it to them. I don't think I have ever won in a game after playing it for my first time. I ended up leaving with Barrett and Nicole after an hour, Nicole was getting bored and she didn't feel comfortable in what was quite a strange place. The chairs were just flat wood, no cushions and between that and walking in sandals all day, my neck was starting to hurt. I usually keep one or two vicodin on me just for the hell of it, and I felt in my pockets for one and picked it up and ate it fast so Barrett wouldn't ask any questions or possibly ask for one. As I swallowed it, I tasted the nasty powdery residue that accompanied only one drug - Soma.

For those of you that don't know, Soma is a strong muscle relaxer. I have had problems sleeping normally since I was a teenager, and I would take Ambien and nothing would happen. Soma was one of the few drugs that could actually knock me right the **** out. I tried to not panic, realizing that in 15 minutes I was going to be in a Soma coma. We were walking back to Barrett's house and I could feel my head getting heavy and thoughts started slowing down. I really just wanted to be in my bedroom back at my dad's and wake up to a brand new day, one that didn't have me losing a car payment over some game I shouldn't have played in the first place. It wasn't the money, it was the fact that I played a game I knew I was no good at for decent stakes and lost. I said goodbye to Barrett, and I told him I was tired and was sorry I had to leave early.

I walked over to the passenger's seat and got in, and Nicole was knocking on the window. I already had the seat back ready to pass out on the trip back, and then I realized what the problem was - Nicole didn't know how to drive stick. I didn't think that one through - she had never even wanted to drive this car because she was afraid she would crash it. We had a couple of options, the first being waiting out the Soma, which would take hours, and the second being her driving and me telling her how to clutch and shift. I convinced her to do the latter, and I had backed the car down the hilly driveway and onto the main street.

"I can't push the clutch down, it's too hard." Jesus ****ing Christ. The hardest part was getting out of town - from there she could just cruise in 6th gear until my dad's house.

She stalled a few times, revved the engine in neutral mid-shift, but she was able to get it up to speed and we were out of town. Somewhere around Shelburne I fell asleep and don't remember anything after that. I woke up in the morning at the ass crack of dawn with my seatbelt still strapped in my car. Off to my right I could see a large animal walking down the dirt road to the entrance to my dad's house. As it came closer, what I thought was a small horse was actually a donkey. It came right up to my window as if it were waiting for me to come out. The donkey roamed around the yards here and he must have thought I had food for him, he seemed very interested in my car. I opened the window and threw out some crackers I had left over from the trip and he went over to eat them, and I walked out towards the door to the house. I ran into my dad who was going out for a bike ride and he smiled.

"Rough night eh? Nicole said you were out cold."

"I accidently took a sleeping pill instead of Advil...." He wasn't buying any of that.

"I see you met Duke the donkey, he comes here and plays with the dogs."

"Oh yeah, Duke's great, we're like brothers now."

In 10 years I had never played poker so badly as I did that night, and it wasn't even a game I wanted to play. Damn you Barrett for taking me there! The truth was I was the donkey. I did know where I could redeem myself though - Foxwoods.

haha. Love the story! Many a degen in New England has taken that drive down 95 with redemption in mind!

Hmm.

More flashbacks to Pollo Tropical ITT please!

Lol - I can provide that. Hope to get more stuff up tomorrow, I have had a couple long days.

Had pollo tropical for the first time yesterday, pretty good for fast food.

stories keep delivering, continued thanks for sharing OP

Pollo Tropical

I can't write a full segment because I have to go out of town today, so I will write about the one, the only, Pollo Tropical. Pronounced POY-oh TROP-e-KAL, It is a medium sized chain of restaurants that started in Miami in the late 80s and centers on Caribbean inspired fast food. Now when I say fast food, I mean that the ordering process is similar to that of a fast food restaurant. Every single one I have been to has a drive thru. I just took a look at their locations, and 6 years ago 95% of them were in the Miami metro area or over here on the West Coast (Fort Myers, Naples, Tampa), and there were a few scattered in very large cities on the East Coast. Now they are blowing up in Orlando, Atlanta, Dallas, Houston, but besides those towns, the majority of them are in Southern Florida - in fact, there are more PTs than McDonalds in most of Broward and Dade Counties. In 2008, I lived a block from the OG Pollo at SW 90th St and US1 in Pinecrest, built in 1988. The old ones are the best ones, and you won't get quite the same food at some of the outlying franchises. I used to do business in St. Pete back in 2009-10 and there was only one there back then - it was independently owned and more like a real restaurant/diner. The food wasn't quite the same, and the menu items were different. It was also run by a 100% gringo staff, no bueno.

When you walk in, it is a fast paced environment. Take a good look at the menu before you are ready to order, it is not quite as simple as a McDonalds, and you want the best experience, so be prepared. If you are in a heavily Hispanic area, you might want to order in Spanish because a lot of the workers there won't speak English well, and it gives it some authenticity. When I go there I get almost exclusively either the 1/2 roast chicken with two sides, or the mojo roast pork, again with two sides. For sides, they have corn, mashed potatoes, yellow rice, white rice, black beans, veggies, and yucca, both boiled and fried. For those who don't know, yucca, also known as cassava, is like a tropical potato, and is absolutely delicious. I usually get it boiled, and it looks like chunky box of yucca strips, but it is excellent if the right sauces are used.

For sauces, they differ from place to place, but the basic sauces are cilantro garlic mayo(10/10), guava bbq (9/10), mojo sauce, which is a garlic and oil marinade great for yucca(10/10), Poyo-Poyo sauce (a hot sauce similar to chipotle with some mayo and good for wings, 9/10), and some curry mustard (never tried it, it smells like a 6/10). If you order drive-thru, you have to ask for the number of sauces you want, and it can be a roll of the dice. The guys at the one a few miles from me all know who I am so I don't even have to ask. One guy got probation for giving me too much extra stuff, so I felt bad and offered him rides home after work, he was 19 and had no car. If you go inside, the condiments bar is rather generous, and you can get as much as you want. I would recommend getting extras for food you might want topping for the next day.

The other food I have had there but rarely order is the chicken quesadilla salad, grilled tropical wings (like a spicy barbeque, delicious but not so much meat on them), their chicken wraps are also good. I have never had anything there I didn't like. One thing I haven't ordered is their Tropichop, which is kind of like a build your own ricebowl situation. I don't get that because I don't like a predictable package of food mixed together. At most locations I go to, you can also get beer, usually Corona and Bud Light, and if you want to keep it authentic, order a Materva soda. It is a soda popular in Latin America but produced in Miami and it is a Yerba Mate derived drink. I have also seen wine offered at the St. Pete locations, so it really depends where you go. If you eat in they usually give you real silverware, plates, etc. so definitely not your average fast food chain. Also, don't underestimate the sugarcane roll that comes with your meal, that **** is delicious!

I know if someone was trying to find me, the best thing to do would be to hide out in the parking lot at the local Pollo here and wait for my car to get into the drive-thru - I'd be a sitting duck, but at least I'd die doing what I love.

Just remember, if you feel bad going to a "fast food" joint, here is proof that even millionaires flock to this establishment for a quick fix on food from the homeland.

hhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnnnnggggggggggh Continental GT secksiiii

TST coming through with the solid food blog. You should request a kick-back for this.

All my prayers have been answered. Thank you, TST, for this culinary deep dive.

Worked for a client in Coral Gables for 1.5 year, ate PT 2x a week with regularity. No mention of the ribs (which are fantastic with a little bit of mojo sauce), but other than that, very accurate and agreeable description. Tropichop is the sucker bet for sure.

Ah, THE RIBS! I knew I had missed something important on the menu. They are seasoned Mojo style like the wings, and I like them, my only gripe is I felt there could be more meat, but otherwise great. I usually just go boneless with the roast mojo pork. I might even get them my next trip there, which is probably tonight. Let's face it, I have no shame. I got gift cards to PT from multiple people for Christmas and am halfway through the $100 already.

If anyone is interested in playing some PLO, I deposited some money on BetOnline. My username on there is Licuala. Probably playing microstakes, just wanted to play some hands. Should be on there a lot tonight if I don't go busto, lol.

I'm game, how do you deposit?

I used a credit card, I think any MC or Visa works. Decent amount of action for a USA friendly site.

Crushing the 10plo streets I see. BOL not miserable with rakeback, otherwise it's just not fun.

Are the higher stakes regs good there ?

Honestly I don't know, I am play 25PLO and not multitabling. I just need to get hands in, I would say the 25PLO players are as good as a 1-2 game live, probably better.

Just finished reading every post. Pure gold my man.

I liked the call out to Crystal River. That is basically where I grew up. If you are still thinking of a relocation, look up Temecula, CA. Good poker scene with a casino right down the road that houses the nicest room in the area. LA is only an hour away for even more action.

Looking forward to more!

That's cool, Crystal River is still relatively untouched by the developers and its beautiful. I am actually pretty familiar with Temecula, I sell plants to a lot of guys in Riverside and San Diego counties. If the cost of living weren't so high I may consider it. Watching Live at the Bike really makes me want to play poker in LA, lol.

I may not get another story in the next day or two. I have to make a trip to Miami for business and its getting cold here (44F) so I have to make sure certain plants are taken care of. I have plants that die at 45F, unfortunately they are also expensive.

Still grinding plo25 on betonline for fun.

Dude you are such a good writer.

No joke every time I watch an episode I fire up career builder and zillow and start planning.

Also you made me hungry, yucca + dat garlic sauce omg so good

Been locked in since this thread started. Check it everyday before bed.

If you've watched liveatthebike then you've seen me play a time or two. Keep up the good work. Awesome writing here.

Heading South, Still North

I convinced Nicole to come down to Connecticut for a few days - she had an inner degen in her that she wasn't aware of yet, and she was becoming a low limit slot whore herself. Our trip would stop part of the way down in Keene, New Hampshire where my dad's family was from, then continue south. Trying to head in a direct line in Vermont was next to impossible with very few large roads, mostly mountains, and speed traps in the many small towns makes Middlebury to Keene over a 2 hour drive. Winding around in the Sti through the hills though makes it quite a drive - I am sure a minivan can be quite boring going through this area.

I had decided to meet up with my cousin, who knew I played cards, and told me they have tournaments and cash games at this hotel in Keene. I looked up NH law and apparently places can host charity tournaments, and cash games are allowed with no betting over $4 at a time. Weird rules, hopefully the tournaments are for more money. I rolled down the last hill and into the valley that was Keene. My family had been in this town for over two centuries, and it has a very cool small town feel to it with an old school downtown, college, brick streets - a much different feel than back in Florida where something was historic if it were 50 years old. As much as I loved Florida, I respected the architecture and history of the old Northeastern towns - nothing tilts me more than seeing new stretches of tract housing growing up along the roads back home. I imagined my ancestors running this town 100 years ago, not in the gangster sort of way, but politically, financially, and in the municipal sense. The only mall in town was named after the mill that my family had run there back in the 19th Century, so was part of library, and a lot of open spaces. Unfortunately, the mall was almost completely deserted besides a movie theater and a bar, thanks to bad management who couldn't recover from the Great Recession a few years back.

I pulled into the Holiday Inn where the tournament was being hosted, and walked in the conference room where my cousin Nate said he would meet me. He was about 10 years younger and had just gotten out of college at Vassar. I remember going to look at Vassar, as I had gotten in back in the day, and I got the feeling it was all gothic and lesbian types - not really my cup of tea. It was still a great school, and he had finished college a lot faster than I had, so I had much respect for him.

"Hey Liam, what's up? I brought some friends from high school, we used to play back in the day." Back in the day for him was 2010, the last days of real online poker, and he must have told them I was some high stakes player.

"Nate said you play poker for a living?"

"Yeah, I play around the state in Florida, I don't really play in tournaments. I think they are fun, however. What's the buy in tonight?"

"$60 for the main tournament, we're just going to play the freeroll though that starts in an hour. You playing the main tournament?"

"Hell yeah, either that or Foxwoods!" I exclaimed, really feeling as though I should be down there instead at a hotel in New Hampshire, but I wanted to hang out with my cousin. As I bought in to the tournament, I had my billfold out and it had a pocket for chips which I loved - the black chips from Pocono Downs were in there.

"Jesus, is that all your poker money in there? That's like five thousand dollars, what stakes do you play?" Nate's friend was a little nosey, and I didn't want to draw attention to myself for having money on me. Keene isn't a shady town, but I didn't feel comfortable in a new place having people know I had money on me. I think Nate had played up who I was to his friends, and I was not a high-stakes pro, just a low to mid-stakes guy who took shots once in a while.

I sat down where the cheap seat card directed me and found a stack of chips waiting. These chips were cheaply laminated, and I felt like this was like a Moose Lodge tournament, just a little bit more legit. The tournament proved to be rather nitty, so I chatted up the players and asked them about poker at Foxwoods. They asked about poker in Florida, and I told them where and when to go. They talked to me about Florida like it were a foreign country, and as I thought about it, it really was a foreign country. About an hour in, I flopped top pair with AQ vs KQ and a K hit the turn after we got it in on the flop. An hour later, I was seated in the freeroll and got it all in with QQ vs 99 and 99 rivers a straight. Good game.

I went over to Nate and told him I had to head out, that Foxwoods was calling my name. We said our goodbyes, and I got back onto 91 South and was heading to New London. We passed into Massachusetts and one of the first exits is for Greenfield, a small town where my sister went to boarding school. The school surrounded its curriculum around horseback riding, and she went there while I was at college in New London. I remember taking the Orient Point Ferry back to school after holidays and having to make the 4 hour round trip to Greenfield and back. My sister chose to go to boarding school, I decided it was not for me. It was too regimented for me, and the end result was I lacked any regimen, while my sister was slaving at a 9-5 and hating life in the corporate world. I didn't know who led a more fulfilling life, but I appreciated the fact I didn't have to answer to anyone.

I had plans to stay at my friend Daniel's house in New London for the next two days. Daniel was the first person I had become friends with when I transferred to Connecticut College. In the winter of 2001, I had moved in early to get situated mid-year and he came a day early to the freshman dorms for some computer event. It turned out we went to the same school (Hackley in Tarrytown, NY) but I was there for elementary and he was there for high school. We had lived about 4 miles from each other back when we were kids in White Plains and knew the same people. From there on out, we had become best friends in college and I basically inherited his existing group of friends which consisted of mostly female (and a few male) dance majors, as well as a few Computer Science guys. Daniel was the guy who had two flatscreen monitors to run multiple programs at once back in the day as well as dueling towers, one which acted as a server. He made me my first and only fake ID and introduced me to my first girlfriend at school. The sad part was, I hadn't seen him since I walked out of school back in 2003. Leaving college in the middle of a semester wasn't exactly something to be proud about. I hadn't seen any of my friends from school in well over a decade, and they had never really tried to contact me. Daniel was the only person that really seemed to show an interest to meet up, and I obliged - after all, I would have to get a hotel in the area otherwise.

Heading down Route 2 towards New London, it didn't look like much had changed over 12 years. It was like going back in time to a place where I was being honed for a career in the corporate world, it was something I barely remembered - a flashback to another time. I realized it was still relatively early in the evening, and Nicole looked bored. I knew she didn't want to throw in the towel, and I don't think she realized how close we were to a Mecca of poker in the Northeast. I texted Daniel to let him know we would be late, which was fine with him. He lived right off campus in his grandmother's house who had recently passed away, and he was the senior computer tech guy for Conn College now. He had no real schedule, and sounded like the same old Daniel I knew. He did have an aspiring documentary film career, and that was his real passion. He had been trying to break through with some global warming pieces, but nothing had materialized.

I hadn't seen Foxwoods since January of 2003, just before the poker boom had taken place. I had only been there on a few occasions compared to Mohegan Sun, which was closer and considered not as nice back in the early 2000s. For a college guy who had $40 in his pocket and wanted fun, Mohegan Sun was closer and I didn't feel like I had to dress up as nice, and I thought security wouldn't check my ID as much there. I didn't turn 21 until October of 2002, so I was more comfortable heading that way on a regular basis and keeping under the radar. As I saw the building in the distance, I woke up Nicole and pointed up towards the lights. She asked if that was New London.

"No, it's Foxwoods. It's the nicest casino in the Northeast."

"Oh I remember Mike (her ex) telling me about this place. Does it have slots?"

What casino wouldn't be complete without a huge floorspace dedicated to slots, where locals smoked ****ty cigarettes and had their player's card attached to that ridiculous bungee cord. Walking through the main floor it was like a scene out of the Matrix where the humans are in capsules, just being kept alive for the sake of the robots. These old slot regulars were in the same position, never leaving their machine until their name was called for a drawing after they had blown most of their life savings or retirement away. The place could literally be on fire and I don't think they would move unless their machine literally melted right in front of them. I plopped Nicole down to a nice older lady in a Conn College sweatshirt and told her to have a good time and I would be back in a bit to check on her, and headed over to the poker room. I knew it was a busy night and wanted to get on the list for something. I was tired so I took the safer route and got on the 1/2 list. As I was walking back out of the area and back towards Nicole, I saw a familiar face - Gary. Gary was one of the guys I used to play limit with at Mohegan Sun back in 2001-2002. He was in his mid-thirties at the time, and he looked the same, just with a few extra wrinkles and some grey hair. I wanted to make sure I wasn't tired and just imagining things, so I made 100% sure it was him. I got close to him - he wouldn't recognize me because I had long hair back then and was probably in much better shape, but I saw his anchor tattoo from his naval career. He worked at the nuclear sub station in Groton and made serious money doing something he couldn't really talk about.

"Hey Gary, it's Liam from Connecticut College, do you remember me?"

Gary looked at me for a minute, like he was trying to figure out what happened to my hair, trying to picture a 21 year old me.

"Hey Dan! I haven't seen you in almost 15 years! I knew you moved back home, but you never came back." He knew me from my fake ID name still, I was afraid I would get kicked out if I didn't continue to use it, and did so until I left Connecticut in 2003 just a few months after my 21st birthday.

I proceeded to sit down and get coffee with him, and tell him my life story for the past 12 years. I told him my real name, and he said he had a suspicion I wasn't 21, but didn't want to blow up my spot. He had gotten divorced about 10 years ago, and met a younger woman and now had 2 kids with her. He still lived in Groton and still worked at the sub facility. I told him I would be in town for a few days, and he gave me his number and told me to call him when I was headed out to play. Five minutes later I heard my name called for 1/2 and headed over to the cage. The poker room I had remembered hadn't been around for over 10 years, but to me coming back here was like a trip in a Delorean that went 88 miles per hour.

moarrrr

Looks at fit bird, checks out room

You sound really fun, dirty room does not mean dirty smelly girl

Sex no thanks, your fanny might smell, ok fu.

tldr.

fyp