I'm so damn mad right now... If I had a membership to an all-night gym, I swear I'd go down and do an hour on the heavy bag, just to rid myself of my overflowing cup of anger and frustration.
The bottom line is, I'm not playing poker again until I get back from Phoenix--that'll be about two weeks.
Apparently, I'm still running *really* bad. I just got back from getting rivered six times in a row by the same guy, burning through $140 in the process. And here I thought Dougie was a rat bastard for playing 10-6 and sucking out on me, but this guy tonight caught an amazing run of cards and beat the ever-lovin' snot out of me. I lost to 10-6, 6-2, Ace-Four offsuit, etc etc etc. The final straw was losing my flopped full house when the guy went runner-runner to make a bigger boat.
It has easily been the worst run of cards I've ever experienced. Twice I flopped sets, and both time I got rivered. But enough bad beat stories--apparently my luck is really bad, and I guess it has been since I got the stench of Caesars Palace on me last week. Ever since then, I've had nothing but bad luck, from my battery dying, losing a hundy at the dice table, to getting a ticket, to plowing through about five Benjamins at the poker table with nothing to show for it. So I'm gonna take a break for awhile and let the bad luck go land on somebody else.
When I left the casino, I was so damn mad about the last hand that I was thisclose to going all Duran Duran on the poker table. But I'm not really much of a violent person, so I just muttered to myself and left the room, shaking my head in disbelief. In my experience, any other player probably would've cussed my opponent out for the ridiculous suckouts he was making--I've seen it dozens of time, especially dealing and playing on the graveyard shift. But that ain't my style--I just take the Zen approach to it all and figure that while I'm running spectacularly unlucky right now, that guy was just the opposite--he caught every card in the deck for two solid hours, and must've had about $600 stacked in front of him (at a 4-8 table!) when I left. I know that $140 of it was mine.
Maybe one day I'll be running spectacularly lucky and get away with three-betting six-deuce before the flop...
Anyhow. Enough bile for tonight. I'm just pissed off right now. But now that I know I'm not gonna be spending my evenings down at the M, chasing cards and flirting with the little blonde dealer with the kookie hair and the pierced tongue, I'll probably be rather productive for the next several days. And hopefully, it'll be busy at work and I'll pick up an extra shift or two. I could use it--my stash box that was full of hundred-dollar bills two weeks ago is now completely empty.
Unless I make some real money in the next two weeks, I'm gonna have to skip the WSOP event. Oh well--at this point, I'm running so bad that it would be a total waste of $500. Maybe I'll wait until June, and just play in all those Binion's tourneys. Right now, I feel like I've run so badly in the past week or so that everyone probably thinks I'm the biggest fish in the room. Enough is enough.