So far, it's looking much better. But then again, Hump day is always better than Monday. I mean, yeah, I'm still feeling rather blah and uncreative, and I still haven't talked to Marcie again, so it's not all balloons, rainbows, and unicorns in my world.
Yesterday helped. I didn't do a damn thing all day. I mean, absolutely nothing, like Peter on Office Space. I pretty much laid in bed all day being a slug--I didn't pick up the guitar, I didn't do any laundry, I didn't answer any email, and I didn't even watch TV. It was nice to check out for awhile, that's for sure.
But one cannot subsist on trail mix, coffee, and the internet, so around eight or nine o'clock, I was bored off my ass. So I took a hundy out of my meager stash and headed down to the poker room to get in the game. Normally, I'd insist on playing no-limit, but I hate sitting down at the table unless I've got four or five hundred in my pocket, and the wallet is pretty thin this month. With just a hundred, I grabbed a seat at the kiddie table and played some 4-8.
I was having a good time, and one of my gals I hang around with on occasion was there at the table sitting next to me. We did a few shots and had a few laughs, but she was absolutely trashed. It got so bad that they had to cut her off and I was afraid she was gonna get sick. But eventually she said she'd had enough, so I helped her color up, get to the bathroom, and gather her bearings. She wanted me to take her home, but I had told the guys in the poker room to hold my seat, so I didn't really want to leave.
Eventually, she found out that her boyfriend was still in the casino, playing table games in the pit, so I steered her over there and she became his problem, while I went back to the game. I played for a few hours, and was playing very well, making a few bucks here and there. The problem was there was a maniac in the game who was raising pretty much every hand, but then he kept catching cards on the river, blowing up everyone and sitting behind some huge stacks. It was ridiculous.
I tangled with him a few times, and he rivered me on four separate hands, irritating me to no end--they were huge pots, too, and he had absolutely nothing until the very last card every time. Ugh. The fact that I rolled out of there with a $25 profit after about five hours is a testament to patience. I should have made about $250, but I could never hit a draw, nor did my big suited Aces ever make a flush, in addition to the maniac winning with junk cards on the river every hand.
On one hand, however, I was this close to pocketing a $2000+ share of the in-house bad beat jackpot. I flopped four queens, while another guy had pocket Aces. Had an Ace come on the turn or the river, we would've been doing the happy-naked-muppet dance right there at the table (If Aces full of Tens gets beat by four-of-a-kind, the table gets a $10,000 payday--the losing hand gets $3500, the winning hand gets two grand, and the entire table splits up the other $4500, so I would've gotten $2750 for winning that hand had a third Ace shown up). If my opponent would've gotten running Aces, we would've hit the big one, and I would've come home with more than forty-five thousand! So close I could almost taste it.
But it wasn't the Bad Beat jackpot that was making my mouth water. After a few hours, I realized how hungry I was, having not eaten any real food in two days. I finally figured out how to use my points to pay for room service, so I ordered a hot pastrami sandie and a side of they-call-me tater salad, and I also ordered a side of fries for my buddy who was working the floor last night. He's not allowed to have food up behind the desk, but if somebody has some munchies there at the table they're willing to share, then he can wander over and grab some. I knew he was hungry and since I didn't have to spend any cash out of my pocket, it was on me. And once we figured out that system, it was Game On for the room service gal--she made several trips back to the room after that because everyone else decided to get their grub on, too.
Eventually the game broke, and I was lucky enough to walk with a few more bucks than I came with, but I stuck around for a bit to watch the action at the no-limit game. I was sorely tempted to get in, as there were three drunkasses in the game who were just terrible players, but again, they kept catching cards. I saw one of my buddies double up the same guy FOUR times in about an hour--the other guy just kept hitting ridiculous two- and three-outers every time. You can't beat a game like that, no matter how good you are. If somebody is running extremely lucky, like I saw on both tables, it's just bankroll suicide to try and go up against them. So I just watched for awhile before eventually calling it a night and coming home.
I stopped and put a couple of bucks in the tank before coming home, then I played in a 90 player micro-limit sit-n-go on PokerStars before going out in 33rd place when my flopped set ran into a turned boat. No money for me.
That brings us to now. I'm still fairly wide awake, and I'm sipping on a cup of coffee and wondering what I'm gonna do with myself today. I may go down to the O-House and try to make nice with Marcie later, and oh yeah, get some breakfast, too. But other than that, I've got nothing going on today. I would *love* to be able to pick up a shift tonight, but chances are slim and none, and Slim has that shifty look on his face like he's trying to make a break for it.
Otherwise, there ain't much going on out here in the world of Mikey. I still think I've got a mild case of the blahs, anyways. Nothing sounds fun, I don't want to spend any money, it's still cold outside, and I can't think of any good stories to tell.
But at least it ain't Monday.
Mikey
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