Big Bets at the Big Casino | The Smirking Chimp
Ok, it might not make you feel better, but it will make me feel good to recall this little recent episode because I think of it once a day or so with great happiness. Happiness ain't easy to come day in times like these. Get it while you can.
My last remaining vice is gambling, which I love. Three weeks ago, I was up in Butte County, staying at Gold Country Casino, which I love, god help me. I was having a rather good run of luck, playing Casino Hold 'Em, up about $1,000. I put out a $50 bet on the bonus hands. I was dealt a K-7. The flop came up K-K-7, which gave me a full house. I was already in high cotton, but the turn was another King, giving me 4 of a kind, a payoff on the bonus bet alone of 40 to 1. (You do the math.) I put up another $50 bonus bet (that's the max) and the next hand I was dealt 2 Kings. The flop was a King and two other inconsequential cards, so I was already a winner with trips. But the river turned up another king, so I had quad kings two hands in a row with max bonus bet (as well as all other winning bets). Now if you're not a poker player, or a gambler, this may not mean anything to you, or it may make you disapprove of me. I don't care. I love reliving that most grand and rare moment. Happy, happy, joy, joy.
The dealer changed between those two hands. Both dealers were heavily toked, and the first homeless guy I saw on Olive Blvd was happily surprised to get a $20 donation to help him along in his struggle against house odds.
I'm still feeding on the memory. My wallet was so fat with $100 bills that I couldn't fold it. And I know, some of you will wonder why I didn't tip that homeless guy one of those bigger bills. There's an answer. I'm an asshole. Not a huge asshole. Just a run-o-the-mill asshole who grew up poor. Not stingy, but never forgetful of harder times. My own, and those my parents knew. And theirs, too.
And then I stopped in Marysville, that old Main Street with the antique and thrift stores where thriving businesses were up until the 60s. A lot of very nice people run those little shops now and I dropped about $450 there and chatted up a whole lot of nice old ladies who were probably younger than I am. It was great fun and I got some very cool stuff, including some nice presents for Karen. I'm looking at one of those things right now, a great piece of art that brings me a smile. Oh, and I filled up the gas tank, and bought myself a neat belt my old shooting partner, Jim, would have loved if the damn guy hadn't gone and died 11 years ago, leaving me to miss him ever since. No one around to applaud my really great shots, or vice versa, though I made many more great snap shots than he did, of course. Miss you, old pard. Any tips you can offer to prepare me for the other side, Jimmy?
When I can't sleep and am worried about the virus, and my wife, and my so-loved daughters, and my kin and friends, and the whole weary world, sick and scared, I re-run the image of those cards hitting the felt and, to quote Chief Dan George, my heart soars like a hawk.
There are a couple of ways you can take all this. One is that I simply wanted to share my pleasure. If you do share it, you're most welcome. But you could also choose to resent the fact that I won a big chunk and you may have needed the money more than I did, and that you are more worthy of good luck than I am, anyway. If that makes you feel better, I don't begrudge you the thought. We take what we can get, especially these days. You might also take the moral from it that life is a gamble and some days we win and some days we lose. In that regard, you may wish me special luck with the virus lottery cuz I might have tapped into my luck at the wrong time when the stakes were so much less important.
Or you can just resolve to believe that though the odds are nearly always against us, going back to the peril posed by saber-toothed tigers, the house does not always win, at least not in the short run. And in the big casino, the length of our run is always on the line.
So, take heart from my tale. You know what us old timey gamblers say, right? All you need is a chip and a chair. If you're reading this, you're still in the game. Do whatever you need to do to stay at the table. In the meantime, keep good thoughts, as best you can. And keep on keepin' on.
On that note, this…
_______
from Poker
Post a Comment