Really really enjoying this, OP. Thanks for the insight into that world, please keep it coming!

Big Mike and Hard Rock

Side note - I looked through my photos on my current computer and found about 3 relevant pictures to the game. My girlfriend broke my hard drive when we moved about 4 months ago by dropping it on the floor accidentally, and the computer place said it was toast. I'm going to try and get a professional to extract the info, because I have 12 years of my work pictures on there too.

I did my usual wake up, go back to sleep, and wake up routine until about 300 the day after the Disney trip. Personally I was feeling like a million bucks after sleeping most of the day, and then I realized I had to deal with the Mike situation. Since the beginning of Tim's game, Josh had become sort of a little brother to me. He was one of the few people I would hang out with outside the games, and he was not a degen - he was a 19-20 year old kid that was enjoying the thrill of the ride. He was a hard worker at a high end car detail place his uncle owned, and would hook me up with basically free waxing and detailing. It was on the way to the poker room, and I would swap cars with him, go play, and tip the detailer a 20 and just drive back home.

I called up Josh and wanted to see if he wanted to go to Hard Rock tonight, and told him what happened to Mike. He wasn't completely surprised, and we decided to head up there, scoop up Mike, and called Bookie to see if he wanted to go. He was going to drive himself and said he was already halfway there. I was hoping Bookie would get Mike because he lived down the block from him, and it was a pain in the ass to get him from where Josh and I lived. I pick up Josh, head up the interstate, then get off to drive 20 minutes through traffic almost to the beach to extract Mike. I say extract, because he hadn't told his wife we were going - that was going to be my job.

We pull into his duplex and the place is white trash city. Someone got tired of mowing the grass, so they dumped rock in the front yard, and now weeds were growing through that. They had put tinfoil on the front windows, and various pieces of living room furniture were laying around the driveway. I knocked on the door and Mike's wife, Darlene answered. Darlene was a pretty weird chick - she had this ridiculous tattoo above her chest of a candy bar logo, was claiming disability, and had a week's worth of batman outfits including hats, stockings, shoes, gloves, you name it. This was my job because I was the only person who really interacted with Darlene at the poker game. I would have to take her home sometimes because she would have to take care of the kids, so we actually had a few meaningful conversations. She would freak out about the amount of debt Mike owed everyone, and I explained that it wasn't as bad as it seemed. I even said that Bookie was going, who she liked, and reasoned with her that if Bookie wanted Mike to pay him back so badly, why would he let him go to the casino?

She accepted that reasoning, and off we went. Mike had about $200 on him, which was scary because we had to make it through 200 yards of blackjack and pai gow tables before we made it to the poker room. They wanted to make it to the $150 turbo tournament at 7, and it was 630 when we walked through the doors. We walked into Bookie at a $25 blackjack table, and Mike started pulling out his money.

"I swear to god if you blow that money here, I am not lending you a cent."

"Okay, Im just going to play 2 hands, I'll still have the entry fee."

Mike bets 25, busto, another 25, busto. He then slid the other 150 into the middle, and busts again! Way to blow your night Mike, apparently he is good at being a 3 pump chump. On one of our conversations driving Darlene home, the topic of sex came up. "Sex with Mike is the worst 2 minutes of my life," she had told me. Mike literally cannot hang on to money if someone offers to take it from him. We head to the poker room, where I want to get onto the PLO list ASAP because it can be an hour wait. Josh and Mike reg for the $150, and Bookie goes to play pai gow in the Asian area. I decide to walk out for a cigarette, and walk by some of the other tables to see if I knew anyone there. Sure enough, at table 31, Jenny was sitting - with some dude, and they were talking in Spanish, playing 2/4 limit.

"Hola!" I said, sweeping by the table and tapping her on the shoulder.

To be continued....

I love your posting speed!

I like to write, especially about things I am passionate about. I will try to keep it up, I have been sick lately and been switching between Bar Rescue episodes and posting on here. I hate being sick in the summer in Florida, it makes you feel like a slug going just about anywhere in the heat.

Big Mike and Hard Rock - Part 2

I had just lit up a Marlboro Menthol Light when the double doors opened up and she turned to talk to me in the smoking area. I wasn't looking for a confrontation at the casino, I was there to have fun, plus I know what happens to guys who argue with girls in a drinking/gambling establishment. We said hi to each other, and I asked who the guy was. It was apparently someone from her new work - she was a hairdresser at one of those places in Wal-Mart, and he was a cashier manager. I thought to myself nice, a Wal-Mart relationship, that should last long.

"Thanks for letting me know. I drove by your house one night and your car was gone, you wouldn't answer your phone. Want to tell me what happened?"

"You were never available. You were always playing games, dealing games, running games. If you wanted to hang out it would be late at night. How do I know you weren't with some other girl?"

"How do I know you weren't with some other guy? Oh, you are with some other guy. This argument is pointless. Make sure he teaches you everything he knows about 2/4 limit strategy."

Magically, right as we finished talking, I put my cigarette out, and hear my name called for 5-5 PLO. I purposely buy in for all red (2 racks) and walk by table 31 as they fumble with 2 or 3 reds. I sit down at 39 looking at table 40. I see a few guys that have played at the Derby 25/25 game at the table, I am hoping this table is not as brutal. Sitting down in seat 8, I post a 10 straddle in the CO. I get 2 limpers and raise to 50 with KJ55ss, and get a call from the BB and MP. The flop was A 10 5 ss, with A high spades giving me the nut flush draw, a gutter, and bottom set. It gets checked to me and I bet 135, and get just the BB to call. The turn is a red 7, and he leads into me for 320. I sit back and shuffle one of the many piles of reds lying around and thought this through. This guy appeared about my age (early 30s), Eastern European, and was sitting on @2500 to start the hand. I think he would have 3 bet me with Aces out of position, really what I am worried about is 1010xx combos. I think A10xx is much more in his range, as well as KQJx, possibly with spades. I raise all in and get snapped off, and the dealer deals the K of hearts on the river. This was a card that cost me some money in the Boca game, and I didn't have a good feeling about it at all. I showed bottom set, hoping it was good, and I see him fumbling around trying to line his cards up in his hand the way players do to figure out if they have a straight or flush. I was thinking to myself he's going to do the desperation look and then muck. 15 seconds pass, which seems like an eternity when you are all in on the river. He finally puts down one card at a time, and it went A....10.....Q........J.

I could feel the temperature of my blood rise - I rarely show negative emotion at the table but I was at that point where I could hear things happening, but couldn't take much in. Chinese Mike, a high stakes regular at HR said it best sitting next to me, "That's ****ed up man, he slowroll you." Even the dealer gave me a look like he wished he could do something.

"I don't know where you are from, but here that is really bad etiquette. I would rather you spit on me than slowroll me. Is this your first time playing behind these walls? Because you are acting like a child."

He was giggling with someone behind the wall in a Slavic language I couldn't understand. I slid him a business card to my dentist and told him to go fix his front snaggletooth, hes the best dentist around. Someone ended up calling the floor on the situation and I explained I had been slowrolled in a 2K plus pot, he understood, and didn't take it any further. That was the first time I ever had the floor called on me. I rebuy for 1k, and run it up to 1125 with a little aggression. 3 orbits later, this hand happened.

I limp with AAJ10ssdd in the SB on the 10 straddle. The BTN popped 95% of straddles, and I had been 3-betting him with rundowns and once with a QQxx badugi hand, most of which he had seen, so time to balance the range. There are some other limpers (why they never learn, I don't know) and the button pots it to 70. I repot to 280 and after an MP flat, BTN 3-pots it to 1190. After the dealer says "1120" I correct him and tell him I think its 1190. I call all in, and MP calls all in for about 700. I decide not to table my hand, though I usually do when all in just in case I miss something. Flop is 332, turn 6, river 9. BTN is forced to show his hand first and shows KKJ10 - I have that beat, flip over, and win the side. MP says he only looked at 1 card, and it was a 9. Now I have to watch him flip over 3 other cards, I feel like I have to fade cards as he turns them over one by one. He turns over a 2, 4, and......6. He thought he had one with 9s and 6s and gets out of his chair with his drink. Someone at the table had to do a "you lost bro" Robert Salaburu style, and I get dragged the 2800 pot. Since I had started dealing, I had been tipping 200% more than I used to. I flip the dealer a green chip, and he was surprised - it was probably the biggest tip he had gotten at this game in a long time. I get up for another cigarette and on my way back, go to look at the tournament progress.

To be continued.

Please, don´t add another Mike to the story, so lost with so many mikes :/

"I slid him a business card to my dentist and told him to go fix his front snaggletooth, hes the best dentist around. " Loled

Big Mike and Hard Rock - Part 3

I came back from a cigarette and as I am walking down the tournament tables, I pass Mike and Josh at the same table with three tables left. It was a turbo, so the blinds were only 12 minutes. I have never played a tournament at HR, but I heard this was a huge luckfest - perfect for Mike. Josh had ended up buying him in, so I was concerned Mike was just going to be -350 after all this was said and done. With that said, I saw a lot of 5K chips in Mike's stack, so he was doing well, and so was Josh, who by now had become quite a good tourney player. I go back to my seat, post my $10 blind, and the dealer said, "Good thing you came back, we were about to give up your seat."

I look up and see a familiar face - Ronald. Rewind about 2 years, and he and I were sitting at a 2/5 table during a huge promotion night at another cardroom. He was completely wasted, and just kept on talking and talking. I asked him a few questions, and it was clear he was going to be a dick at the table. I made a hero call with 77 on an AA552 board to a big bet. He said something referring to a donkey call, and we got into a verbal sparring match. An orbit later he raised to 25, and I flat with 77 in the CO. On a 357 flop, he open shoves 400 into me and I snap him off. He has 44 and doesn't hit the gutter.

"You're such a ****ing donkey." He mutters in a drunken slur.

"Do you even realize that you lost you ****ing lush?"

We both got up as the pot is getting pushed my way, and one of the bigger floor guys got between us as I sat back down. He was just an angry drunk, and Derek, who was dealing, vouched he was an alright guy and a good dealer from Hard Rock.

"Yeah he'd be an alright guy if he was drowning in the drainage ditch outside."

I walked out an hour later to my car, which was a decent walk through the parking lot. He and two of his friends followed me and I was able to get in my car and sped off. I usually don't shy away from people talking ****, but nothing positive was going to come from the situation, and I wasn't about to catch an assault with a deadly weapon charge after having a winning night. I pull out of the parking lot and notice I'm being followed. All three of those guys had been drinking a ton, so that infuriated me further. They would pull in front, brake check me, swerve around and were looking for a confrontation. After 3 miles I had enough. Our two cars were the only ones sitting at the stoplight, and we were in the middle of nowhere. I put the car in park, put the brights on, and got out with a strobing flashlight in one hand and an asp in the other. I turned on the strobe and there is no movement from the car. As I walk up, I tap the rear bumper with the asp signalling them to come out. I suddenly see the backup lights come on and move out of the way, thinking they might be trying to back into my car and drive off. The lights went off and the car sped off through the red light and into the night. It was not the proudest thing I have ever done, but I was pissed and wasn't going to let a bunch of drunk idiots come to my home cardroom and **** with me. I called the cops and told them there was a drunk driver on the road and went home that night.

"Oh, hey Ronnie boy, you remember me?"

"No, should I know you, I don't think I see you here much?" He said in a questioning tone.

"Remember, I'm the ****ing donkey that made that bad call with top set when you had a gutshot. You and your buddies tried to run me down in your car drunk. Any of that come to mind?"

He turned beet red and denied remembering any of this.

"Don't sit here and lie to me. You want to save face with the table, its too late. You endangered my life that night and I don't forget that ****. Don't come to the cardroom anymore, you're a ****ing liability, and grow the **** up, you have to be 10 years older than me."

The table was silent for a bit, and I sat there and questioned my own anger issues. After thinking about it for a bit, I had every right to be mad at Jenny, at Ronald, but these people must think I'm crazy.

"Have a good night everyone, don't drink and drive." I said as I racked up a full rack of green and a few blacks, which I saved. I cashed out $2500 exactly, and went over and sat down to sweat Mike and Josh.

To be continued....

Moar...............

That's it. Bookmarked!

Big Mike and Hard Rock - Part 4

As the tournaments come to a close, the tables at Hard Rock open up and they let you just sit there. I was sitting down at the table across from what would be the final table with my black chips in my pocket. Part of me wanted to go play Pai Gow with Bookie, but I couldn't help a good sweat. Josh and Mike were down to 10 and 6 paid. Finally I figured Bookie would want to see this, and I went out to the slots area bar, ordered a Godfather, and wandered in to the Jubao Palace, the Asian games area. Bookie had about 600 in front of him, and I told him Mike had a big stack with 10 left - first was $2140. That seemed enough to get Bookie to cash out of there, and he flipped me a green chip to go put on blackjack. I NEVER play blackjack. Whatever, it's his money so I bet it on the nearest table, lost and was gone before they even knew I was there.

We get back in, and there is 9 now. At this point it is a 16-18bb average, and Mike has about 45 and Josh about 16. Josh doubles up 33>AQ, and essentially knocked 9th out. I see Mike has a rum and coke in his holder, and remember him having one when they started. Mike seems to know the TD well, and they are talking when he is not in a hand. I asked the TD how many he's had, and he said "too many to count". Mike is scrawny, but I have seen him drink 15 of those in a night. 7th goes out with a busted flush draw, so we are in the money. Josh is getting short stacked, and moves all in UTG and BTN tanks for like 2 minutes. This a turbo man, what could be taking this long? Josh had him covered, but still, any decision should have been made by now. He finally calls, and it's Josh's AK vs. K10 of the tanker. Really, K10 was a 2 minute tank call? It should have been a 5 second tank fold. The guy ends up hitting the 10, and Josh is left with one chip, and knocked out the next hand. Mike has some antics going on now, spinning around in his car, talking to everyone, and Bookie tells him to shutup. I realized Bookie cared because he was owed about 1000 from Mike, he wants to see him close it out for his own interest. Next guy shoves UTG and Mike says "watch this", spins in his chair a full 360, and drops one chip in. 88 vs. Mike's 55 and Mike spikes a 5. He can't lose. Mike then raised/called off with 36ss versus the A10 of some older guy, and flops the guy dead with all spades on the flop. It was hard not to laugh. I try and foster a chop, and Bookie tries to stop me. I tell Bookie that Mike is liable to lose it all if he gets unlucky a few times, because luck is the only thing he has going for him. They finally agree to a 3 way chop where Mike gets 2000 and makes the other two guys tip 125 each. He basically got 1st place money minus a tiny amount, definitely over ICM.

Mike gets his 2000, gives Bookie 500, gives Josh 300 for putting him in, and offers to buy us all dinner at the noodle bar. If it's free, its for me. While we are waiting for the line to go down, we head over to Pai Gow. Mind you, Josh is not 21 and shouldn't be there, but he is mature for his age so we are ready to defend him if we have to. I order another Godfather and sit down with the 300 I have from PLO. I wouldn't normally do this, but I'm up, they are all having a good time, and I didn't want to ruin a good thing. What I didn't understand was this $20 chip and $5 gratuity thing, it just screamed -EV so I cashed out 320 without trying to look like an ass. Josh followed me and he wanted to put money on roulette, which is an electronically controlled wheel thanks to Florida gaming laws. He gives me the $200 he had from the tournament and wanted to run it up because of the bad beat he took in the tournament. I put in 100 and he has me bet $40 on red - he would always do this, a color or even or odd. We win the first time, so we doubled the bet and even hit. Nice! He has me put $100 of it on odd, but I don't place the bet right and cancel it. Sure enough it hits even and I save him $100. We try the same bet and it worked, up to $260. I cash out and I still have the picture of the cashout ticket, my first time playing roulette ever.

$220 profit wasn't enough for him, so after we eat, we hit casino war. Here were go, the easiest, possibly the most degenerate game there is in the place. I buy in for $200 in red and pull out the black chips I had as well. Josh asks me to bet $80, and I bet $100. Win. Rinse and repeat, I was running so hot that I had two people side betting my spot and patting me on the back, like I had anything to do with it. I lost one time in 10, somewhat of a statistical anomaly. I threw the dealer the $20 chip I had and called it a night with about $3200 in my pocket.

Mike ended up at blackjack when we found him with Bookie. He had a $300 stack at the time, which I am guessing is all he had left from the winnings. He ran it up to about $800 at one point, then down to $400. Then he started betting the minimum with red chips. This was not the Mike I knew. Mike was either going to bring a wheelbarrow of blacks to the cashier or run out naked with a drink in his hand - nothing in between. This was just boring to watch, so Josh and I parted ways with Bookie and Mike, and headed home. As we were getting out of the parking garage, I gave Josh some advice.

"Don't even try to learn anything from Mike, just learn how to do the opposite. It will leave you at 30 with two kids and a wife with a Batman fetish in a duplex in the ghetto." We finally got home around 430am, I drop him off, head home and shower, put on some EPT Live replay, and let the sounds of chip shuffling lull me to sleep. I chuckled to myself thinking of the chances that Mike walked out of there with anymore than an empty pack of cigarettes and a "Why me?" attitude. Zero.

5 star rating! Another question I have did you ever not allow someone in the home games due to them being a nit or a dick?

Yes, there were a few times that we had to have a talk with a few players. Adam was an early player who would show up early, double/triple up, and would head out at like 8pm saying he had to go do something. He ran like god and it all went to his head. We told him if he is going to play and do this regularly, then he wasn't welcome. He responded by opening up a .50/1 game at his house with a $5 rake, and it never ran well.

We had some super nits that would just come to be at the table, but would never raise and when they did, everyone folded. They usually bought in for $200 and cashed out $160ish. The blinds just ate them up but they got to drink for free. We needed to fill seats at that time, so the illusion of a full table was vital to the running of the game.

GOOD Read as usual. Did anyone with a debt every pay off with something other than cash like in watches/ vehicles/drugs/ offer to clean the location?

Moar. Fantastic. Has kept me entertained for a couple work days.

That's a good question. Mike would offer credit like he was a predatory lender without regard for being paid back, so he encountered this more than I did. I was more of a pawn shop, people knew not to ask me for money unless they had collateral.

I can say I have gotten a PS4 as repayment for money owed, a quarter of top notch weed, adderall, klonopin, a Glock 23, and have had many offers. Tim and Donnie both offered to sign over the title of cars they owed to me, though they were both not worth much. Donnie even had a Honda CRX shell he was going to sell to Mike for $250, but Mike couldn't come up with the money. Mike always talked about how he was going to buy a 240 or 300Z and build it into a Silvia or Fairlady. Mike was into the Fast and Furious crowd, but none of his projects were going to be fast or furious. It was actually really tilting to listen to him talk about it because when I asked him what he was going to put in the CRX, he said "F22 all the way man!" That was a stock motor put in Accords and Preludes and although reliable, none pushed more than 150hp.

It is ironic that I was going to be writing something related to this as my next chapter.

Down At the Pawn Shop

One thing I have to do before posting more is checking my spelling. I tend to type fast and I am sorry about the misspells. Tim and Donnie didn't owe me cars, they were owned by them and offered them.

Another thing I haven't discussed a lot is my home away from home - the Pawn Shop. Back in 2006, I had done business with a client who had a farm near the Everglades, he came with a trailer and loaded up and paid cash. He gave me his card, it was the local pawn shop. He said to come in and say hi, so I did. Next thing I knew I was trading guns for plants left and right, I had a veritable arsenal at my disposal. Multiple AKs, Glocks, tactical shotguns, hi-cap mags, you name it, I could trade for it at his shop. He even let me behind the counter and hang out with the crowd. When the recession hit in 2008, I was in Miami, and came back to a place that had loaned out all its money due to buying stuff from people who needed it, and it was in need of a John Taffer style rescue. Besides poker, I didn't really have a job coming back to the West Coast of FL in late 2008. I met the owner's daughter Stacey, she was about 5 years younger than me, tall, somewhat cute, and had a bad case of ADHD, but she was funny. I would help them out when I wasn't playing, and got great deals.

Fast forward to the end of 2014, I had been friends with this family for 8 years, and I could trust them as much as I could trust my own family. The owner was fairly sick and lived 90 minutes away south of Fort Myers, and his daughter was running the show. She didn't know how to shoot a gun, load it, wear it, etc. and sometimes she was there alone. I think the only time she had shot a gun is when she blew a hole in the ceiling of the place by bump firing a gun by accident. I would come in on certain days and just hang out, and she would give me scrap silver for my time. They really needed someone there that knew guns and could keep the place secure. I came in the last week of the year with 12k in cash and nowhere to store it. I didn't like storing things in my house, I was paranoid, and the pawn shop was the most secure place in the entire town. I would also take items for sale like watches, gold and silver and try and bring them to the cardroom to sell to people who had tons of cash on them.

That day, she was alone as usual, and I hung around after I got up in the morning to ask her to store the money in a box in the safe. She was fine with it, and as I opened the safe door I see two silver bricks on one of the shelves.

"Where'd you get these?" I ask.

"Some guy came in and sold them to me for like $1100 each, I'm going to get $1550 at worst."

"Did you even run a magnet over them?"

"Yup, they're even drilled."

So when you get a brick of silver (these were 100oz bricks), they are usually stamped. They were both stamped, but faded, so it was hard to make out much. What you have to watch out for are people who fill the middle in with another metal that is much less valuable. So when a brick like this is drilled, you can run a cylindrical magnet through the middle, and it shouldn't stick. Sure enough they were both good, and both weighed in for about 98.3oz from the drill. Still the value of each brick was right around $1560, as silver was just under $16/oz at the time. I ask her if I can take them to sell and she is fine with that. She wanted $3k for both - no problem!

I put them in my backpack and head up to the cardroom. I was still on the warpath for answers to Mike getting fired, and this was the first time I had set foot in the place since he was booted. I go in with the backpack, head upstairs and get into the daytime PLO game. This was a good game as it was mostly wealthy old men who just wanted a gamble. They were in business mostly so their lives surrounded making quick financial decisions.

"Who wants a nice paperweight?" I ask.

They look at me with some interest as I pull the silver bricks out of the backpack, and a gray-haired Jewish lawyer noted he thought they would look good on his desk. I felt like a door to door salesman bringing goods to peddle to a cardroom, but who the **** cares? That's the one thing I never understood. Everyone was so concerned about how big their dick was at this cardroom. People come here to play poker and have fun - this isn't the World Series, we aren't on TV, just relax! The floor never seemed to come down to any level of reality. Yes, they are the bosses, but they would never admit being wrong, and would take out their anger on patrons either right at the room, or in the home games, which is even worse because they are risking a lot more. The lawyer and I settle on $3200 for both, and I make $200 for myself and $800 for the shop. The game breaks shortly as everyone has to go to dinner, and the nightshift flows in. These are the people I need to talk to about what happened that night.

These are some great stories! And as someone else mentioned, you're a fantastic writer.

Great writing, keep them going!, not on 2p2 much anymore but glad I somehow find my way into this thread!

Thanks guys, I always appreciate getting feedback - good or bad. I have some experience with writing, my mom was in the advertising/marketing world, and did start her own magazine in 2001. I also got a job at a local newspaper in New York as their general editor when I was a senior in high school. My only flaw is I feel the need to get so much out, and can go out on a tangent, diluting the story somewhat.

If I can bring someone out of retirement who has been here since 08 with almost 8000 posts, then I guess it can't be that bad.

+1. Great stuff!

The Nightshift


As the nightshift dealers, floor, and TD rolls in, I say hi, joke around outside and smoke cigarettes with them. I had known these guys for 4 years, going out to bars, playing in tournaments, etc. with them. There was sort of a group of dealers that were very approachable and friendly, and a much smaller group of non-approachable dealers and floorstaff/TDs. They would all sit around a table that was never used and talk about sports bets, random gossip, and give glares around the room. A few of the higher limit players would sit down as well, but I never really had an interest in being a dick, so I stuck with the nicer guys. I put myself on a 1/2 table where I wouldn't be missed, and went downstairs to the staff smoking area to find out more. Derek was always down there when not in the box, and one time he gave me 20 bucks to go grab a 6 pack to go pound in his car on his 15 minutes off. He couldn't do anything about this situation because his job on the line. Personally, besides player recruitment, I have no problem being asked to leave if something were to happen.

The smoking dealers are the more approachable, nicer dealers in general. Some dealers just came down here to get away from the players, floor, and commotion of upstairs. One of these dealers was Gerald - just who I wanted to talk to. Of all the dealers, he would be the one who wanted to get Mike back the most, as Mike slipped into his game the week after he left. I was also one of the only people from the game that Gerald would talk to, as we had a no hard feelings talk when Tim's game went downhill and everything was crossbooked. At that time I just played and wrote stuff down, I hadn't done him any wrong and he was smart enough to understand that.

"What's up buddy?" Gerald asked with a genuine tone.

"Not much, just playing 1/2. You know, the usual."

"Since when was 1/2 the usual for you?"

"Since I wanted to appear like I was playing but actually wanted to find out how Mikey got fired. I know I won't get moved off the table." I said with a grin that confirmed this conversation was going to a higher level.

Gerald gave me his recollection of what happened. Mike was getting off a night shift on Saturday a little early and was trying to head out fast so he could go to Vito's game. He had talked to one of our occasional players about coming to the game, and the player wanted to wait until Mike was off to go. Apparently the player left right after Mike, and one of the other 2/5 players mentioned to the dealer and the floor that Mike was bringing a player to a home game.

"So Mike got fired for a guy walking out that MAY have gone to a game? Isn't that kinda circumstantial evidence to get booted for? Are you sure this happened?"

"I was the dealer at the 2/5 table when it went down." He said.

It seemed like a coincidence that Gerald would have been the one at the table that had a player rat out Mike. I pointed that out to him, and my reservations about believing him.

"You know what I sell on the side, I may be pissed at Mike, but I'm not going to be a rat when all it takes is a rat to ruin me."

He was right, about 3-4 dealers were more than just poker dealers. They weren't in the business of ratting anyone out at anytime. As much **** that Gerald had caused with both games, I knew he wasn't bull****ting me.

"How is that game running by the way?"

Great, great, you know Mike likes to get deep in the books like he's in college, but otherwise I'm making about 5000 a month dealing 1-2 times per week.

"How's Tim?"

I don't know man, I haven't seen him in a while. The truth is I had seen him once a week - he came to this $20 tournament in our local area on Tuesday nights, and I think that was all he could afford. He said he had been going to the gym and was having health problems. I went there because Sally and our other friends played, then we went out to eat after, Wednesday was bowling night, Thursday was the game, and Friday was $5 tournament night. I really don't know why I played all these terrible tournaments, I rarely play and I am pretty much just a cash game player. I think it was just a comfortable spot for me, and definitely the reason I was not meeting women.

"So, can you tell me who I should be talking to? Who did the player go to complain about Mike?"

"Kyle."

Thanks man, I appreciate it.

Kyle was a dual-shift floor and dealer, he was making his way up with a couple others with new management that came in about a year before. He didn't come around downstairs very much. I remember his days as a dealer, and I helped him in a heated situation with a drunk player where the floor was called. He never returned the favor, instead he came to some of Tim's games and acted like a dick, including needling nitty players and making them not come back. He was also another "dealer" of sorts.

I decided to go back up to the main room, and saw Kyle coming in and asked to talk to him. We went out to the outside area where tourney players gathered and went to the side where no one was.

"You want to tell me what happened Saturday night?"

"What do you mean, with Mike?

I just sat there staring at him, like there was any other reason for me to bring him outside.

"Mike told Tommy to go to Vito's game, and he left right after Mike left."

"Do you have any proof of this?"

"Someone told me it happened, I had to do something about it. He was on our **** list anyway, and so was the game."

"So if I told you that someone told me you were selling weed at the cardroom, do I have an obligation to talk to Mr. X and get your gaming license revoked?"

"Is that a threat?"

"No, I'm asking you a question. We all do things around here for our own interests - no one is a saint. You're high as a kite right now and managing tens of thousands of patrons' dollars in a licensed establishment. Do you really want the Florida Gaming Commission in here asking questions?"

He gave me a look that only a redneck could give - jaw dropped wide open in pure amazement, with nothing in particular to say. Mr. X was a poker player known on the West Coast, and he was also an assistant district attorney in the area. He was a really cool guy, you knew he came here to blow off steam. I had caught him taking pictures of one of the players who was clearly under investigation for trafficking heroin.

"I don't want there to be a misunderstanding. I am not a narc, and I wouldn't say a word unless you threaten interests of mine. So don't say anything about Saturday, or any other day for that matter. You play in these games. Think of the consequences. Do you understand?

"Yes."

"Okay, I'm going to grind out that 1/2." I said with a smile on my face. He laughed too, and I headed back to the table. At least I knew who I couldn't trust. It pissed me off more when I defended him back in the day, but what is past is past.

Survivor Sally

As the year was coming to an end, I was heading up a lot to Hard Rock with Josh, my old roommate, Sally, or whoever wanted to go. The Thursday before New Years', Mike had decided he was not going to deal any of the night. He felt like a manager, like he was in control of his own destiny. To him, getting fired was the best thing for him, when in reality it was the worst. With no other job, and a wife and two kids, he had to make sure this game ran to a T to keep up his lifestyle. Instead, he would just grab chips and sit in with the rest of the guys, like the firing had no effect on him. The truth was Mike was a terrible poker player, he looked for spots to gamble, not for edges, and he loved being a hero when it was not time to put the cape on. "Time to put the cape on!" He would always say. Players would overbet rivers because they knew Mike would jump in headfirst to get that money. The problem was he was always wrong. You could literally put a timer on Mike, and he would lose $200 an hour, which was almost the rake. How to change that? He would up the rake to whatever he could take, sometimes taking 40-50, even 75 from one pot. It was a scary downhill slope. German was not getting fully paid and I had to take an IOU or two from him.

All that was put aside when Sally wanted to play a tournament on the weekend. I went on Hard Rock's website and saw their survivor tournament for $180, every ten places paid $1500 to one person. So, for example, there are 100 entrants, 10 would get $1500, sort of like a satellite for real money. So after I got off the phone, I picked up some cash from the pawn shop, got dressed, and headed to our spot that we met off the interstate. It was a Hampton Inn, one of us would leave our car there, so if someone were listening to our conversations or following us, it looked like an affair. We ended up taking her car this time, she liked the MP3 that was in it and wanted to smoke in the car. Sally was nervous because before this, she had only played $50 tournaments. She claimed she was a better tournament player than a cash player - I think it was more that tournament has a higher luck factor and she happened to do better in these situations. I tried to give her some strategy about 3-betting with your best and your worst hands, and go for more value on the river and not checking back medium strength hands in position.

We get there around 630 and she is registered to the tournament, sitting down and all. I run into a few of my friends from St. Petersburg who were serious grinders and talked to them about the tournament. They had just played during the day and were heading home soon after some cash. Although 10 years younger, they had both had five figure cashes and were consistent, and were traveling around the East Coast playing. I decided to sit down at a 1/2 game right when the tournament started so that I could be close and watch her play. Probably not the biggest +EV play, but I figured it was fun to play and be able to actively sweat the tournament.

The 1/2 game ended up being quite the action session right from the beginning. In the second orbit, I pick up K5hh in the CO, and the button as straddled, some nice guy from Toronto I had been talking to. After some limps, I make it 25 to go, and BTN, BB, and MP call. The flop is Q84hhh, what a gin flop! It gets checked to me, and I make it 85, with the intention of looking like I want folds with overcards and a heart possibly as equity, possibly AQ with A of hearts. The button minraises me (wtf?), and the BB calls all in for 160. The MP guy tanks and goes all in for 215, and I have 295 to start the hand. Hard Rock is known for its odd play, especially at low stakes, but I didn't think there was much of a decision of putting all my chips in, as I did swiftly. The BTN has us all covered and quickly calls all in. The cards are dealt out two black non-pairing cards, so I wait for hands to get flipped over. BTN flips over 88 for middle set - no good. MP flips over 44, no good. I flip over my hand just because I felt I was good by that point, and probably should have all along. BB flips over J10hh for a smaller flush. I just won a 4 way all in, in a perfect scenario. I drag the 1k+ pot and tip the dealer 15, obviously -EV play but I had learned how much tips mean to dealers.

I look over and see one of my friends Dustin eager to get my attention. We go outside for a smoke, as I usually do when I win decent pots, and he asks me to stake him in the tournament.

"You can't cover a $180?" I said.

"My backer isn't here, I'll give you 50%."

"How much are you in makeup?"

"About 3000. You just won a 1k pot, don't you want to help a friend?"

"Okay, fine, this time the Jew will back you." I was notorious for not backing +EV people, being overrolled for stakes, and he was my friend, maybe I could get a little financial sweat out of this. I hand him two black chips and he late regs for the tournament.

With 55 players, 5 paid $1500, and 6th paid $750. I got off 1/2, and looked up at what was available. It was a players dream - there were 40 tables running of about anything you wanted. I notice something new I hadn't seen before - 10/20 O8. I had played the 6/12 there, and its not a bad game, you can really grind there and make money if you are patient and love the game. I finally get in the 10/20 game with about 600 which locked down after that. I really wish Hard Rock would break out their $20 chips for this game, it would have been much nicer.

About an hour into the game, it got pretty juicy for 9 old men checking **** down heads up a lot. I am 33 and was 15 years younger than anyone else in the game. I just scooped a pot and have the kill button on me, so this hand is 20/40. I am UTG with AK23hhcc and raise to 40, MP raises to 60, CO raises to 80, and Vitamin Bob caps it at 100. It gets called all around and theres 400 in the pot. This is where the ****ty part of limit games comes around. Flop is QJ4hh and I lead out for......20. If you are getting 16/1 on your money you should technically call with any possible runner runner draw to the nuts. The flop is capped 4 ways and a 5 hits the turn, and all I can think of is how many cards give me the nut low and nut high. The turn is capped 4 ways, and the river is an A. I lead out for 40 and get 2 calls. Set of Queens and a 63 low is no good against my 32 low and a wheel for a high, and a muck. Other guys must have had sets or low draws that missed. $1500+ pot my way, biggest 10/20 pot I have ever won. Talk about a sea of red chips, wish I had a picture.

(Some of those numbers may be off, I don't play that particular limit much and its hazy in my mind.)

I realized it had been a while since I checked up on Sally, and go over. There are 3 tables left, so I go back to the table, order a Godfather, and order the table a round of drinks for my absence. No one really wants alcohol, oh well, cheaper for me. I walk back over to Sally as she is on break, and immediately goes outside for a cigarette. She gets all riled up saying that some aggressive guy keeps on re-raising her.

"He's punishing you - confuse him with a 4-bet"

"Yes, but what if he calls?"

"He won't call, he'll give you credit for it."

She goes back in and I am walking slowly as I see her get in a huge hand with 44 vs AK where she is at risk. She spikes a 4 on the flop for not much of a sweat, but a huge pot that makes her chip leader. I can just imagine how happy she would be if she got that $1500.

"Liam, what are you drinking, whiskey?"

"Scotch - its a Godfather."

"Get me one. You made me 4-bet and I almost lost all my chips."

I knew this was going to be a long night.

Sally Survivor - Part 2

I just realized the part I got wrong - HR only allows 3 raises in their limit games, so the 20/40 was capped at 80 preflop. Anyway......

I order a Godfather for Sally and by the time I am back, she already has a Bud Light in her hand. She grabs it and is eager to try new things she says. I see Dustin is still in, healthy and grinding. Dustin was 18 when I first met him grinding $50 tournaments, and soon I was seeing him at $200 tourneys and playing very well. I should have backed him earlier. Like a lot of guys, he was into betting sports and took bigger shots there then he did in poker. He got to know each other because I made a good laydown in PLO where he had top set and I had middle set, and I would have rivered quads and gotten his whole stack. If not for that hand I don't think we would have ever talked.

After a little run bad in O8, I cash out for 1400 and wander around a bit. Something about a casino can exuberate so much energy, yet so much tension and despair at the same time. Go to a full blackjack table, and everyone is talking up a storm as the deck runs hot - go to a row of low limit slots, and the middle aged or retired women with Virgina Slims in their mouths. Their player's cards are strapped to them sticking out of the machine looking like feudal servants waiting for their lords to grant them a gift for their loyalty. Those people you hear winning the drawings are always way into the red for the casino, it's their version of rakeback. It is amazing how many people go into a casino expecting something different each time, yet getting the same result. It's that one time they are looking to bink that jackpot that they see on television.

I knew Sally or Dustin could bust at any time, and so here I go - railing a tournament when I should be playing. At least this time I had a reason because I had a horse in it. With 12 or so left, I was feeling much more confident that one of them would make the money. As they went on break, I talked to both of them about the tournament. The total number of players jumped up to 62, so 7th place got $300. I didn't want to see Dustin get knocked out and I only get my money back, or Sally make almost nothing when I knew this was a big deal to her. I was particularly concerned because Sally takes beats emotionally and I wanted to see her cash as much as I wanted Dustin to. Dustin knew how to close out tournaments, Sally needed a little more help. I told her to keep her cool in pots lost or you will easily go on tilt. I think the Bud Light was working well for her, so I ordered another.

Fast forward, and there are 7 players left. I go to the TD, who was the same TD when Mike cashed and I helped out with that first deal. They were sitting there on the real cash bubble for a while, so he had no problem with me ending it there. On a break I got the other 5 players to negotiate a deal, and got Sally and Dustin about $1400 each. The tournament ended rather quickly as a result - it was not even 11. Sally was so excited that she made $1200 playing, she immediately went over to a 1/2 table and Dustin paid me out.

I got a seat over at 5-5 PLO, as there were 3 tables running, so there had to be a full table of new players I had not seen before. I ran fairly bad, losing half my 1k buyin, but was still up 1k for the night. I went over to see Sally, and she had a 600 dollar stack in front of her.

"How'd you go from 200 to 600?"

"By being a donkey, I'm going to run over this entire table!" She exclaimed.

I knew I had to get her out of there, the table was waiting for her to give that all away and then some. She was definitely buzzed and I would be driving home. I said goodbye to Dustin and walked out of the poker room. Sally of course had to dump 100 into her favorite slots before she left, but she had fun.

We get in the car and as I am pulling out onto I-4, she said, "Let's go somewhere and have a drink. This night isn't over."

Really enjoy reading these stories at work while drinking my coffee and avoiding actually doing any work. Keep them coming man, awesome stories for real. You have anymore stories about the PLO $25/50 game with all those rich guys?

TLDR should be TLGIR TOO LONG GLAD I READ! im in the same boat as sb12 im at work reading these to help my day goes by come on man feed our inner inhibition give us another post before 5oclock lol.