Damn I am addicted to the stories

Any pics you could show OP? I think it would give more credibilty to the thread and also make it more interesting for the reader than just a wall of text

I have been wanting to show some pictures, videos, etc. I am not sure how many of these people post on 2p2, including room managers in the area, but my concern is for my friends that may be in some of the pictures and videos that might keep them from returning to the local places. I no longer live in the area, but let me see what I can do.

Pics of the columbian girl, ldo.

Vito = Rob? West Florida = Sarastota?
Think I'm on to this one....

More curious about pics of the $5000 donated plant, tbh.

Hey man, this is supposed to be anonymous. I just realized that we did know each other. You drive the G35 or 37 right? I will say you are a hell of a player, I haven't gotten to the part of the story when you were in the game. I can keep it out if you want.

I will be working on pics and other things. As for pics of the $5k plant, I will have to find the exact picture. It was planted in 2008, and this computer is from late 2014.

Subbed epic story.

I don't know why this site is blocking out my image uploads and links, but it just won't let me show any pictures. Is it because I don't have enough posts on this account?

Enjoying the stories a lot. Keep up the good work!

I use Photobucket, Tinypic and Flickr to host pics and none of them give me problems posting here. Imgur apparently works for most people but not everyone.

lol yup that's me. Nah looking forward to reading it

Here is the Cold Deck video. It doesn't show faces, or the action before the last fold, but it starts as the guy who made it 300 with QQ starts tanking to call off the 850. Don't mind the purple duct tape, those were the old days where Tim had a ton of extra tables lying around. Donnie is dealing, and Manuel has KK. Tim's aunt played in this game, and her obviously bad table talk is overlooked.

And I am sitting there with about 360, there's green chips up front.


http://sendvid.com/wqdprmpd

As far as pictures - I will try and see what I can find from the past few years. We didn't exactly document the game or take selfies, lol. There were some funny events I may have on video, but I am trying to keep players faces out of the whole thing. As far as Donnie goes, I couldn't care less.

http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f3...psgvewvgjv.jpg

There you go, $5000 Microcycas, native to Cuba, highly endangered. Gave it to him with the idea I could get it back. Will post later, going to donkament around town, haven't played in a few months.

Taking a Shot

So I arrive at Big John's at 5, and he usually answers shirtless, talking on and on and on. I just need to know where the game is, what stakes, etc. so I know what to bring, and what time to leave. He tells me the game is in Boca Grande. For those of you not familiar with Florida, or even this area, Boca Grande is the epitome of old preppie white money, politicians, and businessmen who just don't want to be bothered. The Bush family has a compound there, and a condo on the newer areas of the island start at 800K. John got off the phone to confirm I was coming.

"So what are the stakes?"

"They said it was 25/50, and they said they play with a rock. What's a rock?"

"Wait, its a 25/50 game, as in 25 bucks/50 bucks?"

"Yeah, but you don't just buy in with cash."

I proceed to explain to him that I can't play stakes that high, I'm just not rolled for it. I have instant visions of going completely broke.

"I was just going to vouch for you, we all have credit lines, and it is paid out at the end of the night. I will put you in, and I get half. You have nothing to lose."

Alright, so he's putting me in a high stakes PLO game just out of nowhere? He has asked me for favors in getting things for him for his yacht friends and I'm guessing they just needed another player. So I head down there with like 5 bucks in my pocket, its almost an hour there, and there is a toll bridge from the mainland to the island. I have a SunPass on my car, so I drive through and there is a block, the thing won't go up. The toll guy comes out and says its 6 dollars, I know that and I point to my transponder on the windshield.

"This bridge is owned by the town, those don't work here."

Great, I have 5 dollars for a 6 dollar toll. I try to explain the situation to the toll guy. Then I realize I have a 100 in my trunk as an emergency thing. ****, how can I forget stuff like that. I hand him the 100, and he was more pissed than when I told him I had no money. He managed to break it, and I was on my way.

I get to the south end of the island where the harbor is and the old town. When I get to the address, there are no cars in sight, so I just park on the side of the road. It is right on the harbor where some larger boats were docked. I hear my name called out, so I figured they knew I was lost or knew what car I was driving. A man in a pink polo and khakis came to greet me. His name was Drew, and had that look of JFK Jr, sophisticated and confident. He tells me to follow him, and I see we are walking away from houses and towards the docks. We approach what I guessed to be a 65-70 foot motoryacht with 3 floors, two interior and a nice sundeck. We walk in the main gallery and this place was decked out with mahogany, chrome, and high end TVs, appliances, etc. I assume a boat that size customized would be 6-7 million.

I met the other "sailors". I looked like a bum compared to them, but I was aware of their lifestyle. They seemed to respect me and I told them where I was from, went to college, etc. One guy happened to go to Wake Forest, where I spent my first two years of school, so we got along. What I found odd was they were all smoking cigars, but I couldn't smell any tobacco.

Anyway, to the game. It was all in a spiral notebook, what people bought in for, what they cashed out. I was asked what I was going to buy in for, and that Big John had it covered. It was going to be half PLO, half PLO8. They appreciated that I could come to fill the game. I asked them what everyone was buying in for, and I got 5000-10000. They played with a 100 dollar rock. For those of you that have never played with a rock, it is most popular in pot limit games. It acts as a pot builder, so when normally in PLO when the blinds are 25-50, you can open to 175, now you can open to 375. No one keeps the rock at the end of the night, it just sits in the pot usually - hence the name rock. Think of it as a straddle that has no monetary value by a person that doesn't exist.

So I buy in for 8000, and I am a tad bit nervous. I don't like playing on any sort of credit, especially friend's credit. That is probably the opposite thinking of most degens, who will happily run up their own credit as well as others. we get to the game, and there is a server who asks me what I want to drink. I ask for a Tanqueray and tonic, figuring that would flow well with the crowd. It comes immediately and I try and tip the waitress. Apparently there is no tipping here, she works a flat rate. There is also no rake. I feel like a fill in on a movie set in Hollywood, like I am doing them a favor.

The hands start out kind of slow, but the dealer was very competent, I had never seen him before. The pace picked up when UTG (a Jack Nicholson sort of character) raised to 300, MP calls, and I flat the button with 88910dd. The flop comes 678cc and UTG makes it 800 to go. I raise to 2500 to set up a turn shove. He just calls out of position, and a red A hits the turn after MP folds. With 5900 in the pot, and about 5300 in my stack, I am hoping he leads/calls off on a safe turn. He did lead for 1500, which is just an odd bet. I am repping 910, clubs with gutter combos, maybe J10Qx at worst. I raise all in and he snaps off before the chips get in. He has AAJ10cc, so he has a ton of outs.

"Do you want to run it twice?" I ask.

"We don't do that anymore, its not fun that way." He says with that grin that showed how much he loved this game. I guess I'm just going to have to embrace variance then! A red deuce hits the river, and I am up to right around 15800. I go to throw the dealer a green chip and guess what? The dealer can't accept tips either. I had to go to the bathroom to make sure my ******* would unclench, because it felt like my money on the line. I came back and they were taking shots of some special reserve bourbon, so I didn't want to stand out, and down it went. I haven't drank in a while, and I was playing the highest stake cash game I had ever been in with a bunch of ego-driven 1 percenters. I tried to replay my high school and college days with these guys with a don't give a **** attitude towards the rest of the world. The rules didn't apply to these guys.

The only other hand I got into of note was one of the last hands of the night. I raise UTG with JJ910 double suited to 300, all black. It looked so pretty, but I felt a little worried when the tightest guy at the table called on the button. The flop came QJ4hh and I flung in a 500 chip, to which he raised to 1800. I just call, as I have this tingly feeling I am behind, or against a huge draw like AK109hh, and was willing to fold an A,K,9 or heart turn. The K of hearts hits the turn, the worst card for my hand in my opinion, and I bet out 500 again. It may have been the dumbest bet I have ever made, especially given the stakes. I did this with the idea that he would raise any turn that gave him the nuts, and fold if this card had him possibly drawing dead. Of course he raises to 4600 and I snap muck my hand. It cost me 500 to know, and I had to know! I even tossed him a black chip to see his hand, and he showed AAQQhh, so I was drawing to one out.

At 130am, they decided to call it quits, and I let out a sigh of relief. I cashed out for 12700, more than happy to make 2350 that night when I had no clue what I was getting into. I drive home, and when I pass over the bridge, the same guy was sitting there looking for 6 bucks. I peeled past the small bills and handed him another 100 and made him break it, again. This guy probably made over 50K a year on that bridge, a ridiculous salary for the job. I bring 4700 in cash to Big John, and he gives me 2500, which is more than fair. We have a talk, and says he is willing to do this more often if there are consistent positive results.

I keep that in mind as I pocket the money, head home, take a shower, and crash in my rented room from my younger sister. It was such a rush and it felt so great that all my adrenaline was gone, the energy was drained from my body. I slept thanking whoever was up there for letting me run well tonight and making a good impression on a possible long term backer.

To be continued.

Big Mike and The Return of Donnie

It was either that coming Thursday or the following one where I came to the Thursday game at German's house and Mike rolled up right behind me. I would park in the driveway, where Mike would park in the grass next to the driveway in that ****ty Catera. I was walking out to help him with some of the food, drinks, and as he gets out of the car, I get blinded by bling. He has an Oakley hat on, a white, shiny Oakley backpack, white/silver brand new Puma shoes, and some other accessories.

"You go out shopping for a new wardrobe?"

"I hit it big man, I'm going on vacation tomorrow. Legoland."

Mike proceeds to tell me about the insane parlay he hit to get out of 5K in debt and 6K in the positive. What does he do to celebrate? Go to ****ing Legoland. I personally couldn't think of a better place to go myself. He continued to brag about how expensive the Pumas were, and I am sitting there wearing the exact same style in black and paid $35 for them. Of course I am a Hebrew so I always get the best price.

Before the game, German announces he is going to have a $300 a square Superbowl number pool as well as a $100 a square pool. It seemed a little early for Superbowl pools, but I guess you have to get the word out there early for the higher priced ones.

The game starts off pretty well, and Donnie makes an appearance with his OWN money - I couldn't remember the last time that happened. One memorable hand at the beginning of the night - on a Q 10 7 flop, Josh open shoves for like 200 in a 30 dollar pot with 99, which he is known to do to mess around, and Donnie tanks and nitrolls him with Q 10. They agree to run it twice, and a 9 falls on both turns. I couldn't help laughing, nor could most of the table. They love to see a loser run bad, especially after a nitroll.

Donnie, in his calm and collected voice, asks to talk to Mike outside, and somehow manages to convince Mike to let him deal. I was getting mildly annoyed dealing that particular night, so I played myself and made about 200, plus 200 in tips and rake. We took a break around 1am to smoke, clean up some stuff, and we were waiting on a few players to come back from a beer run. Mike and I are sitting outside with Bookie and German smoking, and after about 10 minutes, we realize we left Donnie alone at the table. You never leave Donnie alone with chips. I go inside and check the numbers on stacks, the rake, and his tips, and see that his tips were almost the same as the rake - way too high.

"So you are telling me that you made 200 in tips in an hour and a half?" I ask? "I average 60 and hour, 75 if I'm running really well. That's half of what you have sitting there."

"Well you know, those big hands, those guys were tipping me 20 and 25 bucks...."

"Bull****, you're going to be getting half your tips, period. It's not negotiable. You're lucky Mike was nice enough to let you deal considering your reputation."

We both watched him like a hawk after that, and after the game ended, I was dealing PLO flips for the fun of it. Swede got Bookie for another 1k, and Bookie didn't even have the cash to pay him out. Something wasn't right. I go to the count room where I keep my backpack, including a spare gun buried for whatever reason, medications, etc. Mike is in there and says that we have a problem, there is $1000 missing.

"Did you check all the book?" I ask.

"Yes, of course, I just don't understand how $1000 is missing."

"How the **** is $1000 missing?"

As far as being off on any count, the most we usually are is 10 or 20 bucks from coloring up rake, tips, etc. 1000 is an amount that is a book or theft issue.

German gets half of his usual cut, and is pissed, and so is his wife, who is just plain annoying. She keeps quiet and nice, and all of a sudden the drunken redneck switch flips and its a ****ing nightmare. She is passive aggressive at its finest, but she could argue with someone logically when she is sober, so German calms her down. She cooks at the beginning of the night, goes onto the patio to smoke a joint, then sits there and drinks Natty Ice while doing crossword puzzles that looks like they were meant for kids. She's usually passed out by 12, but was up this particular night.

"What do you think happened, Liam?" German asked?

"I think there's a compounded problem. German, you buy in at table and forget to give Mike the money - this could have happened tonight as you did rebuy. Mike, you have a book that no one sees, and you let Donnie stay at the table by himself - the burden of the missing money is on you. Donnie never walks through these doors again. He cost you money and I'm not paying for your bad decisions."

This made both of them more angry, but they realized that yelling about it wasn't going to get anything done. German resolved to getting half of his cut. I talk to Mike outside, and ask him with all of that unexpected money from the bet, why not just cover it now and keep the slate clean?

"I just don't have it man, I spent it. We're gong to Disney for the day and it was like $600 for tickets, and another $400 in random stuff. The hotel is $200 a night and I fixed my car, which was $1000."

I don't know what was more upsetting - the fact that he's spending $1000 at theme parks buying bull**** or that he spent $1000 on a car that should be in the junkyard by now. He's a grown man and he should learn to spend money wisely. I can't wait any longer to see Jenny, so I get in my car, ride over to her house, only to find no one is there. Somewhat tilted by the past 2 hours of events, I drive to Waffle House and order 2 plates of biscuits and gravy, go home and watch EPT Prague on the live stream, I believe it was the penultimate day as James Hartigan says. I pass out around 10 watching the stream with the take out boxes in my bed hoping this anger/tilt will go away with a little sleep.

To be continued.

Sooooo Gooooooood!!

After being around all of these seedy characters in poker/gambling its awesome to hear a story that doesn't try to hide the degen.

Keep it up!

Orlando and The Phone Call - Part 1

One week after the missing money incident, we had an excellent night at German's. The count was right, we had a great night, Bookie was not trying to be a dick, and Tampa John came down to play. TJ, as I mentioned in one of the earlier posts, was fully loaded, literally. With 300K in toys and real estate, not to mention a backpack full of money, he and Bookie wanted to up the game a little bit. They decided betting on red/black flops for $50 a flop at first. TJ was up $300 after half an hour and Bookie was laying into TJ that the only way he made money was running well on prop bets. They upped it to $100, $200, $500 for an orbit, and finally, now that Bookie was down $2000, they did 1k flops. The problem was they were in seats 1 and 9, so chips were always flying in front of my face. Bookie had red, TJ black. The first flop was red, making Bookie happy, but I felt if he ran bad a few more times they were going to make the game slow down too much or start a fight with me in the middle trying to deal. As I burned and dealt 3 cards down, I was waiting for fists to be thrown at me and was trying to figure out which way I need to deflect them from. The flop came red again, and all the prop bets came to an end. One thing I did notice was German got felted twice and rebought for $750 a shot. He doesn't have that kind of money. Vito noticed this and was curious enough to ask him about it - he said he did well at 2/5 at the local room. Mike and I had a suspicion that the money was coming from the football pool, but there was no way to prove it. That was between him and his customers. I couldn't vouch one way or another for German's integrity, just that he told good stories and had an entrepreneurial spirit about him. I tried to get out early, but to no avail. I was this game from beginning to end.

One guy in particular that started showing up to the games was this guy we called Paper Route James. He managed newspaper deliveries for the area and seemed to be at the local cardroom whenever I was there. I remember the first pot I played against him with Aces, and folded on the river to a 20 dollar bet on a K K 10 3 8 rainbow board. I even told him I folded Aces and he didn't believe me. He was your classic OMC but with a little bit of aggression, and no bankroll management. He showed up and got mowed down at the game, borrowing $500 by the end. I wasn't too keen on this, as he had been in bad places before. I remember him sleeping in his van outside the cardroom when he had nowhere to live, and asking for $20 to give to his son for something. I obliged because I felt bad a 50-something grown man couldn't support his son. I did, however, make him take it off his stack and meet me outside an hour later. I can't tell you how many times I have been asked for $20 so someone could min buy into a limit game and run it up. Even Nice Shoes asked me, and he made $10k a month! In the end, it was all good for the game. I was there as much to get players as I was to make money, and that was just a couple hands.

Getting to sleep at 5 and getting up at noon wasn't too bad. I had made plans with Sally, her granddaughter, and her best friend from back home and her son to go to Universal Studios and Disney for the weekend. I had a pounding headache and popped a xanax and a vicodin and fell back asleep. Friday nights were relaxing nights with local friends and $5 tournaments, which were hilarious and fun. I would pay $5 just to see these people play. Sally came with her friend Becky and son Jason, who was about 19. He said he was a card player, but he had no money and his mother apparently was on a tight budget. I bought him in, and on our table was a guy I had known for 4 years as a weekend warrior. He was a solid player, but he would try and analyze every hand he played in $5 tournaments, $50 tournaments, and tried to tell beginners why he did what he did EVERY HAND. He would wear headphones at the table while everyone else was socializing and donking chips - he was actually here to make money.

Well the party this time was Christmas themed, and Becky and this guy I have mentioned Will were wearing these gawdy green sweaters. They were all downing Bud Light and Egg Nog like it was going out of style. Will was married, but claimed his relationship was on the rocks. He didn't drink nearly as much as Becky, who was nearly blacked out. He started getting very touchy feely and they went over to the couch. I look over and they are just making out and fondling each other with such passion. Watching wasted people go at it is a great spectator sport, and everyone was laughing. They ended up in a melted green sweater mess on the couch by 2am. We had a long day ahead of us, driving to Orlando, walking around Disney, etc. It would turn out to be quite an interesting trip to say the least.

They swung by my place at 9am the next day, Sally got out of her van and said "You're driving, everyone else is sick." I was wondering if I should go if I was just going to get sick, but I soon found out it wasn't that kind of sick. Everyone was hung over and were either sleeping or nauseous. Before we pulled out of the driveway, Becky ran out of the van and puked all over my lawn. Sally's granddaughter was laughing and clapping her hands.

"That's funny, isn't it Izzy?" I said to her.

"Yes, they all threw up everywhere when we were eating. Are you going to throw up too Liam?"

"No, I might later though if you are lucky!"

I put the van into reverse and got on the interstate, and everyone passed out, including Izzy.

Orlando and the Phone Call - Part 2

Driving on interstates in Florida is generally speaking, a nightmare. Add Orlando tourist traffic at Christmas time to that mix, and it can be a parking lot. It can take you an hour to drive 3-4 miles only to find out it was just some car with their hazards on that slowed a thousand cars down in the first place. We finally pull in to the resort, I checked in while everyone else took a smoke break. I go upstairs, hop in the shower, and went out to the patio - we had a nice view on the 6th floor. Becky was sitting there motionless but her eyes open, and after 15 seconds just turned around and threw up what seemed like a 2 liter of coke off the balcony. I watched as a huge load of coke went flying into the air and down into the parking lot, splattering some 20 year old Chevy Lumina van. Those poor people - they probably saved up a year to come and stay here for a week to take a break from a job they hated, and now they have to go to the carwash because Becky had bad aim, and that stuff was going to cook in the midday heat. It was unusually warm that day even for Florida, and this group wasn't going to make it to dinnertime.

I suggested that everyone drink a bottle of water, take some Advil, and just sleep some more. It was Izzy's naptime anyway, so we would all be ready for the evening. Women usually have purses with every remedy available, but somehow between both of them there was no ibuprofen or anything that would help. They suggested going down to the lobby, but I offered them Vicodin, and they happily accepted.

"Where do you get all these pills, Liam?" They asked. That's a good question. I was in a motorcycle accident in 2006 when my Gixxer 750 swingarm failed and the bike just dropped out from underneath me. It was at a low speed, so I wasn't that hurt, but my doctor was also a client of mine who wasn't shy with this prescription pad. Ethical, no, but convenient with the way American health care works today, hell yes. They happily took them, were acting all goofy, and Becky even fell asleep on the floor. I went to my room, which was a double bed split in two.

Suddenly I heard a loud crack and woke up at 530pm. Izzy ran in and jumped right on my face. "I'm scared and grandma won't wake up!" I picked her up and surveyed the rooms, they were groggy, but getting up, and they definitely felt better. We all showered, got dressed, and headed to Disney Springs, a downtown sort of area with shops, Cirque du Soleil, bowling, movies, etc. We decided not to pay $100 a head to go into Disney for 6 hours. Sally and I were on a bowling team, and we thought it would be fun bowling at Disney, and was fun for the younger two as well. We wait 90 minutes for a lane to open for us, and headed to the bar. They had an incredible selection of beers, and I went with my trusted Magic Hat, served in this royal goblet. After about 3 of those and some kind of flatbread food, we headed up, bowled, and drank some more. Jason had to drive home because I know when I am no good to drive - I have a problem with people drunk driving much moreso than the average responsible adult due to the effect it has had on people close to me. I have been known to chase them down and get in their face, and Jason had nothing to drink.

On the way home, we pass by the bungee swing, an odd attraction right on the main strip outside Disney. It is basically a huge swing that brings you up and drops you down in a freefall about 150 feet. Becky was screaming about how she wanted to go on it, and Jason did as well. They spent the $85 to get on, and Sally and I watched while Izzy slept in the car right next to us. We see them get strapped in, and Jason looks excited, while Becky looks scared as hell. They slowly rise up, and after what seemed like 10 minutes, the swing drops. A colloquial scream came from both of them, and on the bounce back up, I notice something on the move. Becky couldn't handle the g-force apparently, and there is a tsunami of puke flying through the air. It must have gone over 100 feet given the direction and height of her puking. It landed near the sidewalk with some serious splatter action. I couldn't stop giggling for like 15 minutes and she came back soaked in vomit. We go back to the hotel, and retire to our rooms.

I am lying there on the bed with my sleep app running - it plays a violent rainstorm which is like a lullaby for me. The door opens, and Sally comes in disturbed.

"Jason is snoring, and Becky is throwing up. I can't be in there."

"Okay, well there's room for two, come on in!"

At that moment, quite a bit of "dark" awkwardness came about me. It wasn't the kind that you get when you are looking someone in the face after an embarrassing moment. It's the kind of awkwardness when your ex-girlfriend's mother comes into bed with you. It is sort of a tension that I couldn't really explain. I could feel my heart racing a little bit, and it might take me a little bit longer to go to sleep than I originally thought. Was this really the end of the night?

OK, but you already told us you didn't giggity Sally, so I'm honestly uninterested in reading anymore.

On a serious note, thanks for sharing, and I have enjoyed the read thus far. Looking forward to more.

I wanted to stop myself for a minute to look back and what I have written thus far. You are right, I didn't giggity Sally, I questioned my telling of this particular part of the story but wanted to give an idea of where I was mentally during the current and future events.

When I write a post, I try and recollect the events chronologically as best as I can, and sometimes I will make an error, grammatical, telling something over, or just something else I just throw out there that doesn't belong. This part of the story was more me touching base with family and friend aspects of my life, and had a low poker/gaming content.

I do hope you enjoy what comes in the future, truthfully I have so much more to write and and thank everyone who has read and commented so far. I will try and stop my writing for a day and find some of the photos from this time - like I said, it may be few and far between due to the nature of the situation.

Bro, I just want to thank you, these stories have kept me from blowing my brains out this past week at my cubicle job that i fukn hate. Your a good dude, im from long island also, my names brian

For artistic purposes only of course, is it too late to get romantic with Sally?

Orlando and The Phone Call - Part 3

Sitting in bed with my ex-girlfriend's mother has to top the list of the oddest situations I had been in for my entire life. Thoughts were rolling through my head - she was in her mid-40s, attractive for her age, married, and it was just a bad idea. I didn't see anything good coming of it, in fact, sleeping in the bed alone could get me in a lot of trouble with their family. With these thoughts collected, I went to bed finally from pure exhaustion from the day.

The next day was spent at Universal Studios. It was the last weekend before Christmas, and the place was packed. It was actually my first time there outside of Halloween Horror Nights. We went on a few rides that were fairly uneventful, and by the end of the day we were waiting for the Terminator ride to reopen. I enjoyed the day carrying Izzy around - everyone thought she was my daughter anyway when I was around her because she looks just like me. Izzy was my only connection to innocence in this world. Innocence was something I hadn't seen in a long time, I had seen it in Jenny, but that was more of an inexperience than an innocence. We finally get on the ride, and as I am walking out the exit, my phone starts vibrating. It's Big Mike, and he sounds like a child.

"You aren't going to believe it, I just got fired today. I don't know what to do man, I feel like jumping off the Skyway."

A dozen thoughts rolled through my head as I registered the consequences of this situation. Mike told me that someone at the 2/5 table told the room manager he heard talking to one of our players. Something about when he should come over for the Saturday game, and left at the same time as Mike. They brought him in the room and questioned him about it the next day, and he admitted to it. Mike rolls over that easily on himself - note to self, don't count on Mike keeping his mouth shut to save anyone else's ass! It seems very sudden, and I suspect they knew about this game for a while at the cardroom. It made me wonder what else do they know? Did they know about me? I knew most of the dealers and floor, and it was important that I can still go in there to recruit players. Mike seemed like he was in shock by his tone of voice. He was scrambling for a solution. He hadn't even told anyone else, including his wife.

We talked for exactly 41 minutes while I sat under an awning as the skies opened up over Orlando. My biggest fear is he would try and make a move on the game and this would cause the game to go down the tubes. He needed to make more money, maybe I could just teach him some responsibility. He was a desperate man with not much to lose at the moment, at least that was how I imagined he felt. I told him I would talk more with him, but I had to find where everyone else went. I wandered into the main entrance area, and got a call from Sally, they were tired, wet, and all in the car. I walked up the garage, got to the car, and we headed out. We were all beat and hungover, I didn't need anymore puking in my life.

We headed back down the interstate, and everyone was at some level of starvation. We stop at a Wendys, order, and after 10 minutes of no movement in the drive thru, I pulled out of there and went to McDonalds. There we order again, get our food, but they ****ed up the order and Becky didn't get her Big Mac. I offered her my food and she refused. I decided to pull off at the next exit that had a McDs, and as I pulled in, Becky yells "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I WILL NOT EAT ANY FOOD YOU ORDER FROM HERE!" Jesus ****ing Christ lady, you're 45 and acting like you're 12.

We get closer to home, and I pass the exit I normally take to go to Mike's. I imagine what is going down at his house - him having to explain to his wife that his greed of running a game on the side cost him his job. I felt sorry for the guy - most of his profits from the game burned in flames as he donated it playing on the table as a losing player. He had that job for 7 years, and even when he did have it, I bailed him out of unpaid bills, no car, and brought him to the game in the first place. He wouldn't be in this situation if I hadn't invited him to Tim's in the first place.

Although what he had done was wrong, I felt he had been singled out by the management for this, and tried to find a reason to fire him. This was a small cardroom he worked in, there was a group that licked the boots of the owners and were friendly, and the "others". I know a few of the dealers friendly with management had run games before without incident, so this was a little bit of preferential treatment. After thinking about it this way, I was pissed. I had to hatch a gameplan to make Mike comfortable without compromising my place in the game, and I wanted some answers. I wanted to know who ratted him out. All these thoughts went through my head as I laid awake that night.

A pleasure to read your stories sir.

Brian - I'm happy I can entertain a fellow New Yorker with my story. I was born in Manhattan, but have lived in White Plains, then way out East on Long Island. You know where Shelter Island is? Where do you normally play up there?

Ico - As much as I would love to stretch the story a little, I will say I never got it on with Sally. It is possible that something else happened.......