The Poker Report

6-30-01

"Writing On Jenny's Big Ass Since 2001"

Well, on Thursday there was Yahtzee, rolling dice, playing for cans and vengeance, bloodsport. There were seven of us if you count Karina, and I don't know why you wouldn't count Karina. I mean, she was there. It's always good when Karina is around. She makes all of us better people, temporarily, because she is so good. The only problem is that when she leaves she takes her goodness with her. It wraps itself around her like cotton candy on a stick, and all we are left with is our mean, miserable selves, evil and scheming, once again.

It was an exciting game, and once Jon rolled three Yahtzees. The place went wild, I went home. That's the way I've been this week. I've been leaving stuff early.

We decided to play poker on Friday night. My friend, Jenny, with the big ass, was not invited. And Abby was out of town, so there'd be no round-the-corner snooping going on this week. Instead of Abby "Spy vs. Spy" Martin and Jenny "Big Ass" Don't Know Her Last Name, we had Ben's old friend Tono in town from Colorado. It turned out not to be such a good deal. Tono destroyed everyone with superior card playing skills, and he didn't give me any warm hugs at the bus stop, something I had gotten used to.

Jeremy and I went out for whiskey before the game. Jeremy's a rock n' roll guy, a live for the night forget about the morning kind of guy. A Dead Boys, MC5, Johnny Thunder type. It was nine o'clock. The game was at ten. We got hard lubed at the Uptown talking New York in the 70s. Johnny Thunder and his bathtub full of ice. The jukebox shouted the Ramones and the Ramones told me I shouldn't drink whiskey.

I don't remember much of the game. We played a lot of hold 'em and Tono always took Ben on the river. Tono had so many chips that every time he moved his arm a pile of white and blue would fall, cascading into the table with an angry crash that said, "Ha, Ha." Ben smiled. Ben talked. Ben bought in THREE times.

We played a lot of baseball, threes and nines are wild, Jeremy says Barry Bonds is a freak. Tono pulled five kings konsistant. Even Jeremy lost to the Colorado Snow Mass. Jeremy, who never lost at poker night before, crying like a convict denied parole, not even wanting to buy back in. Jon bought back in.

I was too drunk to make good decisions, but lucky enough not to pay for them. I stayed mostly even despite the blizzard to the north, with the help of a couple of big five and fives, straights or higher to play. Long before the end I was down four dollars.

Long before the end I laid down on a small rattan love seat in the living room, dancing to the disco ball spinning in my head.

I woke up this morning with vague memories of strange commitments. I woke up across from Julie's friend, Kerry, sleeping on the large couch to my right. My legs were hanging over the edge of the seat, arms buried in my sweater, a loud, warring drumbeat reverberating from far away.

I found six dollars waiting for me in my shoes. Outside, Saturday morning was a cool breeze moving slowly while a handful of cars changed lanes and sounded long, wailing horns. I realized I had grown smarter during the night and my new, enlarged brain was pushing painfully outward against the fragile confines of my skull. Back at home I lay down and imagined a cool rag over my eyes and a girl, any girl, telling me things were going to be OK. When I got used to my new brain I would have the power to take over the world.

Steve Elliott

Editor

The Poker Report