involuntary, i begin gnashing my teeth and moaning in agony as I drop my head to the felt, crashing into my racks on racks in the descent. My cheques go flying across the table and i'm left with a splitting headache while i breath in the piss stained felt as i mourn over my bad beat. I can feel my face burning with rage as I recount the sick number of times i've been on the bad side of my coolers this session. standing up and trying to regain my composure, i'm unable to keep my poker face on any longer. my head is spinning in wrath and i lose bodily control as i go into a mini standing seizure due to the unbearable beats that have been thrust upon thy self tonight.
"this is so sick, i got this d***sucker drawin to 2 pulls in the deck and what happens, phuckin riverstars!" i cry out. shaking my head and sighing deeply i say, "there'd be no phuckin fish if there wasn't a river"
as i stop pacing around the room i see the dealer counting out the cheques owe from the previous hand while my new friends around the table kindly re-stack my cheques for me. without any mention of my outburst the next hand is dealt and i'm back in my seat with my eyes closed, focusing on my breathing techniques.
"what the F ever boys!" i blurt out. "that's only a c-bet in my normal game!" i say, attempting to prove my superiority.
waiting for a response, i hear none, giving me the opening to continue.
"yea, back in the V.....the what we call Vegas....i was postin blinds bigger than your buy ins. phuck."
one thing you learn in the V is this, perception is
everything.
settling back into my chair i wait until the action is on my as I squeeze out the 6
7
. Two EP limps before me. almost instantly, my computer brain tells me to pop it to $6.25.
hastily cutting out the chips i splash them across the table, not caring to announce the size of my bet.
To my surprise, the animal to my immediate left who's been silent all night announces, "raise". Taking off my sunglasses to get a better look at him, i focus in squarely on his pupils. his eyes dart from my stack to his, to the middle of the table, then back to his stack. methodically he slides in a bet of $16.25 and the table quickly folds back to me.
sitting up straight and puffing my chest up I ask for a count on his stack. while he's counting it down I pretend to re-count mine, and align two massive towers as if i'm contemplating a shove. "78.25 more." he says. Glaring back at him i toss in a black ($10) chip and opt to call here. my plan is to take it away on almost any flop.
"check dark!" i declare.
Flop: 10
9
3
Wasting little time villain slides in a little under 1/2 his stack. "$30' he says.
Here's where perception is so crucial. villain thinks i'm tilt, villain also thinks i'm too rich to care about such low stakes. As such, he's lookin to scoop up an easy pot with a strong c-bet. He doesn't know I know what he's thinking. Like always, i'm one level above. I'm going to hit the money card 15% of the time, and the other 85% of the time I can take this pot away from him with a strong lead on any turn i brick.
"call" i say, indifferently, as i sloppily throw in 3 more blacks.
Turn: 7
"bingo" i think to myself. abandoning my previous plan of checking over to him to conceal strength, i'm now in fear of river suckouts from his overcards. with that in mind, i decide it's best to take it down here.
"all in!" i announce.
with a slight look of disgust villain sighs and says, "well...i have to call." as he begrudgingly moves his cheques to the middle of the table.