“This is not tournament.” I declare to the table. “I ain’t showin my hand!”
Becoming increasingly angry at the situation I pull out the wifi feature on my Iphone 4 and inform the table I am searching Cash Game hold em rules.
The proprietor of the game then interrupts and says, “dude, we don’t care what the official rules are. We always show our hands when we’re all in.”
Tipping my shades down to the tip of my nose I scoff at him and say, “that’s not how we did it in Vegas…but you don’t know about that…”
While letting that sink in for a moment, my superiority at the table has clearly been established. None of these posers have been anywhere near a deepstacked 5 10 no limit game. Standing up and grasping the felted rails on the pool table I say, “ok…deal.”
“We’re not dealing until you turn your hand over.” The proprietor repeats, becoming visibly irritated he's not getting his way.
“well that’s too damn bad!” I snap back at him
Jumping up from his seat he reaches for my hole cards – cutting him off I put him in a vice grip wrist lock and before I knew what happened I feel the palm of his hand across my face.
A collective laughter hits the room as my jaw drops and I bring my hand to my face, easing the sting of the blind-sighted slap. Luckily my polarized lenses are hiding the tears welling up in my eyes. If this were in Vegas he’d be 86’d the phuck outta the game asap and I’ve have his stack in my cargo shorts.
As he tables my pocket Jakes the dealer runs out the board and sfobv it comes all A 9 Trey, drawin to backdoors on the flizzie. I can feel my face burning up as a single tear streaks down the side of my face. Wiping it before anyone sees I let out a small sniffle and angrily rustle through my bookbag. Taking out 6 xanax’s and some milk I throw em in the back of my mouth and wash it down in one fell swoop.
20 minutes later I’m feelin’ goooooood