PostHeaderIcon Dawn Summers: barely stronger than the storm

TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!

In honor of my birthday, which is today, I shall regale you all with tales of my poker playing! You’re welcome, world. And by world, I mean the four people who still read this blog. *Cries*

So, I played about 20 hours of poker this weekend.

I got to Harrah’s about noon on Friday. Mary and I were seated at this god awful table of cranky octogenarian men. She had the good sense to switch tables. I am stupid-stitious and assume I was given the seat I was given for a *reason.* That reason seemed to be because the universe hates me. In the one seat was a nonstop talking old man who was all “Raise to 17! because my birthday is July 17. Will you come to my party and jump out of the cake naked?”

O_O

In the two seat was intermittently talking old man who kept slapping his wife’s leg and telling her “to pay attention or it won’t work” because he kept insisting she sit with him “to bring him luck” even though he was pretty much losing.

In the three seat was kept getting up every five minutes old man, I guess I didn’t mind him, but he took a big pot off of me, so fuck that dude.

I was the four seat, then an old asian lady in five, a dumb woman in the six, seven and eight kept changing, long silver haired dude in nine and angry walks with a cane old man in ten. I sat at this table for TWELVE hours. I WANTED TO STAB things. I almost lost it at the pervert old man, but as I’ve been watching a lot of Godfather movies, I kept telling myself that he was a made man and if I snapped at him, he’d have me gunned down in the parking lot.

So the poker… I was slowly bleeding away chips on fishing expeditions (I kept playing 78 and my age and about to be my age and my birth year — none of these are acceptable starting hands to call with, so) I rebought and forced myself to play a more disciplined game. My image was definitely super tight, easily frightened preflop caller, post flop folder. If they were paying attention, which they clearly weren’t beeecccaaauuusssee….

In middle position I get pocket tens, some doofus has already raised it to $12, I’m bored and stabby, so I decide to “just take it down” immediately. I make it $40. DUUUUDDDEEEE. I GET SIX FUCKING CALLERS!! SIX!!! I HADN’T RAISED ALL GAME!!

Anyway, the flop is 972

So, I bet out $50

FOUR people come along.

OY.

Another two comes on the turn, I go all in for my remaining stack (thirty something dollars). They all call and they all check the ace on the river.

I assume I’m dead, but NO ONE shows. I shrug and say “I’ve got tens.”

One guy turns over eights, another guy turns over fives, the stupid lady just mucks and the last guy says “I missed.”

WOOO!!! Who’s got two thumbs and is UP!

Mary had made delicious, delicious birthday cupcakes, so at around 11, I was like “can we leave now? The cupcakes are calling us.” I, of course, stayed for one “last hand” and laughed when it was AsKs. Oh, this is such a recipe for a stacking. I raised, missed the flop and folded. But it was a good day.

We spent the night eating cupcakes and talking about Game of Thrones. Apparently, even though I’ve read the books and watch the show, I have NO idea what is happening. Alceste, on the other hand, is a savant! He knows EVERYTHING! Martin should hire him to write the next two.

The next morning, we sat around watching the women’s tennis match and eating breakfast. Mary said she couldn’t believe I stayed at old man table for the whole day.

“It sucked, but I listened to my ipod the whole time.”

“But you miss stuff when you have earphones in,” Alceste chimed in.

“Like what?”

“Well, like when those guys are talking about how they play or their hand…” he replied.

“Pfft. I always assume that whatever they’re saying is bullshit lies, I’d rather not hear it.”

This exchange will be important later. Grrr.

After Lesucky lost the Finals match, we returned to Harrah’s. It was early Saturday morning and the place was empty. They carded Alceste and he made a point to remind me of this every hour on the hour. “Weird, how they carded *me* And I’m OLDER than you, Dawn.” Then one of the dealers was like “yeah, if you look younger than 70, we have to card.” And Alceste pointed and laughed. #Hateful

We waited for a bit and they opened a new table, but Alceste, Mary and I were all at the same table. I remembered thinking to myself “this won’t end well.”

We were chatting with each other and the other players, Alceste raised to $7, everyone folded. He did it again, I had pocket nines and called. He c-bet, I raised with my set cause I’M NICE. He folded.

The session went on in this fashion until the table finally got full. At that point, I put in my earphones and ordered an long island iced tea… because… Birthday.

I don’t know what happened, but when I looked up, Mary had made a sixty dollar bet on the flop, Alceste was calling her AND THEN a little weasely looking man shoved all in for like $170! Ruh roh. (Later, I found out that Mary had preflop raised from the button to $12, Alceste had called and then weasely man also called. The board was something like 3 3 5)

Mary looked pained about it, but she folded. Alceste paused for maybe 30 seconds, but then he called. Weasely looking man flips over 34! D’oh. Alceste mucked, but later said he had Kings. Mary said she had queens. Yikes. Poker is so dirty.

After I saw another hand where a reckless as HELL old Asian man cracked Aces with 24 (preflop raise included) I tweeted to Grange that I saw “The Grump crack aces HHAAAARRRDDD!” He replied “Are aces ever cracked any way but HAAARRRDD!” #Valid
The weasely guy left the table, Alceste rebought and now we’re all talking about the weasel and how crazy his play was blah blah. My ipod was off.

Alceste raises to $7. I have pocket tens, so I reraise to $16, it folds back to him and he calls. The flop is K84, I bet $10, he calls.

Another 8.

I check, he checks behind. He says

“I don’t even know what I have.”

What?
The river is a seven, I check assuming he’s going to just muck. Instead he bets $25.

HUH.
“I don’t want to show.”

O_o

Well, this is stupid.

“Do you have an eight?”

He doesn’t answer, I shrug and call.

“I have a boat,” he says showing Diamonds Le Dawn.

I glare. And THAT ladies and gentlemen is why Dawn Summers does not listen to poker table prattling.

I put my ipod BACK on and ordered another drink. Because…VENGEANCE.

I basically lose half my stack to this college kid on a hand where I flop two pair on a J75 board. I bet, he raises me, I decide to trap, so I smooth call. Turn is an Ace, he bets, I call. River? Ace. Of course.

I lose another big hand to him on what I assume was him turning a flush against my flopped top pair. I folded to his turn bet. Seething and tilty, I fling my last $26 in preflop with pocket sixes. The other super tight rock who was having a bad day called me with AJ. Thankfully, he was having the worse day and my sixes held up.

Alceste and I went to dinner and he waterboarded me with sangria because he IS THEEE worst person in America. I got back to the table and just wanted to die. Mary laughed and laughed. Because she is the second worst person in America.

I decided to open raise any pot I played and to only play pairs and AK suited. Then I lost $30 limping in out of position with AQ off, over calling on a King flop because… artarded.

“Ok, Dawn, play poker like you are not artarded starting….NOW!” (The next day, watching Andy Murray blow three match points, Mary and I figured out that choking happens in two easy steps Step 1: Firmly tell yourself DON’T CHOKE! Step 2: Choke.)

I limp in with pocket twos on the button.

Hangs head.

But HUZZAH!! Two right there in the door. Aggro guy bets out, I call. He bets again on the turn, I min raise, he calls. He checks the river, I go all in, he folds.

I do a little dance. NEXT hand: QQ.

I raise to $17.

FOUR calls.
*gasps*

Flop: KhQhJc

Balls.

I bet $40.

TWO CALLS.

MOTHERFU—

Turn 8c

I go all-in.

TWO CALLS.

I am now playing Frogger.

River is 3d.

I turn over my hand and the dealer gives me ALL DA MOBNEYS! ALLLUUHHHDDEEEMM!!!!!! WHEEEE

Two hands later, I raise to $17 AGAIN, same idiots call me preflop. I have KK. (Earlier that day I had a string of getting big pocket pairs in the big blind when everyone folded to the small blind and we just chopped. I relearned to stop looking at my cards until it was my turn to act.)

I took another $100 off this guy in a plaid shirt who was just GIVING money away. When he left the table, I cried and begged for someone to make him come back.

Okay, so I’m up, it’s like 10:30 at night, I go into lockdown…I’m thinking about cupcakes. Alceste is down, he had some other weird hand where he gave the table black guy $180 and then mucked. Since the table black guy just had TPTK in that hand, I decided not to ask any further questions. (Oh, I got my money back from Alceste calling him down with Kc7c when he kept betting his second pair on a King high flop. I played the whole hand listening to Taylor Swift, thank you very much.)

Anyway, I’m ready to go when a youngish looking guy in a Jets cap sits down. After about five minutes, he goes “this table is so dead. Let’s get some action going.” He starts to raise every hand to $12 and show his bullshit. Then he starts chirping.

“Come on. If no one calls, I’m just going to keep doing it!”

Now the black guy starts saying how he’s going to stack him, and then the guy next to me starts calling EVERYTHING! He ends up getting stacked after the over pair he was chasing, counterfeited the two pair he flopped on the turn.

Then Jets hat dick was like “yes! Now, he’s stacked and steaming. Let’s get the game really going.”

I definitely one hundred thousand percent want to leave IMMEDIATELY and I think Mary does too, but Alceste was stuck and wanted to “stay for the crazy.”
So…we did.

*bites nails*

The stacked and steaming guy ends up stacking off AGAIN to Mary’s pocket aces. LOL. Then he left. Alceste doubled through a couple of times, but I can’t for the life of me remember the hands now.

And by the night’s end, we all left with a rack full of chips.

The End.

Happy Birthday to me! Cause it’s my birthday today…did I mention that?

PostHeaderIcon Started from the bottom now we’re here…

…here being the bottom.

I remember being a diamond Harrah’s card holder. I remember the free meals and the coupon booklets. I remember the doffed caps and the carried bags, uh… okay, I may be confusing being a Harrah’s diamond card holder with the Godfather movies that I’ve been watching nonstop since I bought them for my ipad.

Anyway, all that is in the past. I am diamond no longer. Heck, I’m not even platinum. DOUBLE HECK, I didn’t even have a valid player card for ANY casino… it has been THAT long since I played poker.

But all that changed this weekend. A bunch of us went down to Atlantic City to visit Mary and celebrate Alceste’s birthday. On Saturday afternoon, I made my triumphant return to the Harrah’s poker room. Everything there was as I had remembered it. The table, the carpet, even the staff was unchanged. There was something comforting about that. They started a new table for us, so Mary, Alceste and I were all at the same table. They bought in for the maximum, I bought in for the minimum.

Again, some things never change.

My heart was racing when I got my first hand… the first hand in almost two years! OHMIGOSH OHMIGOSH… Q…6? Balls. Fold.

I folded often for the first hour and then got pocket twos. It checks to me in the big blind, there are seven players in the hand. The flop is 9 4 2 two spades. The small blind, a young kid, who also bought in for the minimum, bets ten dollars. I call. There is one other caller and the turn is a King. SB checks, I bet out $20. Third player folds, small blind insta calls. I have NO idea what he has. NONE. The river is a blank and I bet out $20 again. He thinks for a lllooooonnnnnngggg time and calls. I flip my cards over and tip the dealer in the same motion, not even bothering to look at his calling hand. I’M A ROCKSTAR BABY AND I’M BACK!

Well….sorta…

About an hour later, I have AQ — an aggro Asian guy has joined the table now. He bought in for the max and has been splashing around doing crap like straddling and blind raising. Mary opens the betting with a $12 raise. He calls. The Flop is A K 4, Mary checks, the guy bets $25, I call. She folds. The turn is a blank, he checks, I check behind. The river is a ten, he thinks and thinks and then bets out $25. I don’t put him on anything good and insta call. He has K T. *sad trombone*

I’m SOOOO mad at myself. I’m back alright. WOMP.

I spent the next three hours folding and berating myself for being a godawful poker player until the Mets game came on. I asked the floor to put it on and I settle in for the hilarity of rooting for the visiting team in Phillies country.

We’re sitting there, the Mets game is on the TV right above our table, Mary is two seats to my left, Alceste is at the far end and I’m watching the game. The Mets are getting DEEEE-SSTRROOYYYED. It’s like 7-1. I sigh.

“Well, if they just score seven more runs, we’re right back in this!”

The WHOLE table, including the dealer, laughs at me.

Tired of folding and watching my team get beat up, I decide to mix it up a bit and I raise to $7 with JsTs, everybody except maybe Mary, calls.

But the flop couldn’t be more perfect Jd 4s 5s. DUUUUDDDDDEEEE. I check, bunch of people check behind me and then that aggro Asian dude bets out $30. I have about $120 and I KNOW I have him beat, so I sit there thinking do I raise all in here…. it’s a check raise, I’m a tight player, he has bullshit, so he’ll fold. Frankly, the pot is already pretty big, just shove and take it down.

BUT NOOOOOOOOO. I had to get grreeeeddddyy. I just call.

The turn is 4c, I check again, he bets out $100, I insta call. He turns over 84 for trip eights. No spade comes and I’m stacked. CRY. RACES. RUDE.

…speaking of which.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ALCESTE”

“Oh, it’s your birthday,” the guy to Alceste’s right, asks.

“No.” he replies.

I rebuy.

The Mets end up scoring FIVE runs in that inning and are only down 7-5. I look at my hand: KK (Pocket kings are the second best starting hand in no limit hold ‘em!) Sigh. (That’s called foreshadowing.)

I’m in the cutoff seat and *Alceste* opens the betting by raising to ten dollars, the guy next to him calls (a young kid who had been splashing around his tiny short stack all-in for the last hour with silly Ace highs,) the lady next to me called and I thought about what to do.
I figured Alceste had a really good hand and would call any preflop raise from me, AND I figured the stupid short stack kid would shove all-in if I raised preflop and Alceste called…which if Alceste had pocket aces (the best starting hand in no limit hold ‘em) would mean vaffles for Dawn. And not the delicious kind with artificial syrup.

So… I just call. The flop is TEN high. Alceste IMMEDIATELY bets out $25. I stare at him and worry he had raised preflop to $10 with pocket tens. Before I could even really complete my thought, the young kid SHOVES ALL-IN. I see now that his silly shoving had turned into a decent stack, Alceste’s face contorts with shock!

It folds to me and I think and think and think. I basically put the stupid kid on AT and decide that Alceste’s shocked face means he doesn’t have a set, so my pocket kings are good. I shove all-in too — I actually had more money than I thought I did, but I think I would have still done it. Alceste asks for a count, sighs, says “I know I have him beat, but I don’t know what she has” and then folds. The kid flashes Alceste his cards, and Alceste gives a face like “Ah, you had me.” I panic and now know I need a king. It doesn’t come. The kid turns over AA. I show my KK so everyone can feel sorry for me.

The Mets score a run to get within one.

I feel slightly better, I *GUESS,* but I decide the whole debacle is Alceste’s fault and shake my fist at him. (He would ask later why was it his fault and I said “BECAUSE YOUR FACE!” He accepted that as valid. And then I said Happy Birthday and he said it wasn’t his birthday.)

So, now I have about $60 left and I’m tilting the fuck out. I am calling EVERYTHING preflop, after burning off a third of my stack in this fashion…

The Mets lose when the Phillies hit a walk off homer in the bottom of the ninth.

Argh.

Boo.

I’m button now, the dealer is an Asian woman, I look down and see a King of hearts. Then I see people betting. A guy (one of those pretend to be wild and crazy, but if you really pay attention, you see he’s kinda rocky) raises to $10. Fold, fold, call, call, call. It gets to me, but I still only have a King of hearts.

“Uh… do I have two cards?” I say all irritatingly. The dealer apologizes and flicks a second card my way.

Five of hearts.

I pick them both up and look at them at the same time:
5hKh.

I smile. Call.

Come oonnnn, Le Dawn!

Flop is 10h 5d 5c

Tee hee.

Someone bets out $10, I call, fold fold fold, then original raiser makes it $20. Call, call.

I only have like $25 left, turn is a 9c. Action checks all around.

River Kd! Woooooooo!

It checks to me, I do THEEEEEE most obvious shoulder shrug, herdy derdy “Well, I guess I’ll just go all in now.” Horrible. I wanted to punch myself. The original raiser immediately calls.

I can’t even make eye contact with him as I turn over my hand.

I win!

He makes some comment about how he didn’t think I would play that.

I snicker.

I don’t think we played that much longer after that. I finished the session down, but Alceste says “not as down as me.” So there’s that. KINGS INTO ACES! ARRGGHHH

I played again the next day, but I was fairly card dead and the only hand I can remember was turning a straight on a guy who was slow playing flopped trips.

(QQT A 8)

I felt bad because he bet and I called, so he flips over his cards and says “I have the queen.” And I nodded. Then turned over my KJ. So for a split second he thought he’d won, but really I was nodding cause I knew he had a queen. But whatevs.

I ended up losing a similar hand when a dude totally tricked me into thinking he’d hit a card on a river (I had an overpair to it) but in reality, he had flopped the straight (which I didn’t even see after all the cards were face up, but I trust the dealer) again, whatevs.

So, it was a down trip, but at least I got my feet wet. Hopefully, I’ll be back at the felt soon.

PostHeaderIcon I REMEMBERED THE PASSWORD!!

*Does a racially appropriate dance*

PostHeaderIcon Poker Conversation of The Year

Four seat: Is that you on your shirt?

Alceste: No, it’s Dr. Who

Three other players in unison: WHO?

PostHeaderIcon NHL Heads Up Challenge Final Round

Current points -

VinNay 13, Dawn 8

VinNay round 4 picks – LA in 5 games. Quick MVP.
Dawn round 4 picks – NJ in 6 games. Brodeur MVP.

PostHeaderIcon NHL and poker

My head to head matchup with VinNay enters the penultimate stage. We both, so far, mostly suck at this.

As a Rangers fan, I’m going with my boys in six and I’m stubbornly going to continue to ignore the Kings and pick Phoenix in 7.

The poker? I watched most of the semis from poker tables in Las Vegas where I was for @thisisnotapril’s wedding. For the second Rangers/Caps game, I had a bad feeling, so I placed a cooler bet on the Caps. I was wearing my Lundqvist jersey, so when I went to cash in my winning ticket, the cashier did a double take.
“It was supposed to jinx them,” I sighed.
The cashier shook his head, counted out my fifty bucks and said “girl. That reverse psychology stuff only works on men. Not sports.”
L.O.L.

PostHeaderIcon NHL Heads-Up Playoff Challenge

VinNay currently lead Dawn 6-4 after round 1 of the playoffs.

Round 2 picks are -

Dawn – rangers in 6; flyers in 6; st louis in 6, phoenix in 7
VinNay – rangers in 7; flyers in 6; st louis in 7; nashville in 6

In round 2, points are doubled. Good luck to VinNay. Dawn can suck it.

PostHeaderIcon STANLEY STANLEY STANLEY

WHHEEEEEE. 36 hours or so till I’ll either be really sad with the Rangers’ performance against Canada’s capital city or really happy.

Until then, I’m passing the time, how else, prop betting with @VinNay about the outcome. We’re also playing in Astin’s Toronto based playoff pool challenge, but Astin took FOOOORRRRRREEEEVVVVVEEEEERRRRRR (read A WHOLE DAY) to set it up, so VinNay and I are doing a heads up challenge, which means I win AND I get to use my favorite tag! The rules of the challenge are extensive (I suspect Vinnay copied and pasted it from some other dude who put thought into it all) but the gist is pick the winners of each match, at each round and the number of games. One point for picking the right winner, another for picking the right number of games.

I’ve pretty much nailed the first round and I don’t want VinNay cheating off me, so I’m going to make him post his guesses in the comment section first.

Play along at home… if you dare!

Now, I’m off to the Times Square unveiling of the Stanley cup water fountain in honor of the Rangers winning the east for the first time this century!

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO RANGERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PostHeaderIcon King Henry

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and whoa, what a crazy Black History Month, amirite?

I know, I know I’m a neglectful blog owner, plus I couldn’t really remember the last time I played any poker. Oh wait! Yes, I can! I beat VinNay heads up like 98 out of 100 times when he came down to NYC to visit his best friend Petitedov. My favorite hand, aside from the traditional one where he bluffs all-in on the flop and I call with pocket aces, was the one where I raise preflop, he calls. The flop is K 7 8, we both check, the river is a 3, he bets, I raise, he shoves and I insta call with my pocket threes and he has K7.
“YOU SET THE DECK!”
“Dude. You shuffled and dealt.”
Good times, good times. I only include that story so I can make use of my “Beating VinNay” tag on this post. I LOVE that tag.

But no, this story is about my return to cash games and Atlantic City. I guess I should update you all on a number of things.

First, last April I bought a Henrik Lundqvist jersey. He’s the netminder for the first place New York Rangers. I bought it because the Rangers had made the playoffs in my first year of following them and I totally wanted to wear the jersey ALL the way through the playoffs. Sadly, “all the way” turned out to be one win. One sad sad win for dudes that were suddenly sporting 70s pornstaches. No bueno.

However, I had this jersey, I was gonna wear it. So I started wearing it in the summer to play poker. I WAS UNSTOPPABLE! I pretty much cashed out $500 or more in ALL my sessions with the jersey. AND THEN when I went to play in the WPBT I decided to wear my Lundy jersey and AGAIN managed a top five cash. Naturally, even though Brian Boyle is now my favorite Ranger (I wore his jersey for the first time at Friday’s game AND HE SCORED FOR THE FIRST TIME THIS YEAR!!! Um… and that is all I have to say about that otherwise stupid, racist game.) when I decided to go back to AC, I left the Boyle jersey on the recliner and grabbed my Henrik gear.

Second, Harrah’s has changed the rewards program to make it virtually impossible for a poker player to get diamond without, basically, quitting her job and playing all day everyday. Plus, they’ve made a lot of the diamond perks “pay as you go,” so, naturally, I lost interest in it. I made it to platinum last year by one rewards tier point and my heart wasn’t even really into it. Even the Vegas perks are not what they used to be. Bah Humbug. However, I realized that I might be able to parlay my Harrah’s Diamond status into a Borgata black card — if I could get to the Borgata before April 2012.

So, with Alceste and Mary in tow, I drove down on March 25th!

“I’m sooo worried that I’m going to suck. I can totally see myself overvaluing poket pairs just because I haven’t played in three months and I’ll be all “oooh, KINGS! I’m all in!”
Mary laughed at me.

We got to Harrah’s around 11 and all three of us were seated at the same table. MY THIRD HAND I WAS DEALT QUEENS.

Balls.

The weirdo old army dude in the 10 seat raises to $7. Four people call, I reraise to $25 (I’ve bought in for $100, per usual.) army dude calls, so does black guy to my right.

Craptastic.

Flop is J T 4.

Army dude bets out $35, black guy calls. I go allin. Army dude practically insta-calls. Black guy folds.

I don’t show, the dealer runs the other two streets, 9 and 2. I’m sad about the straight hitting and get ready to show when army guy quickly turns over Ace Ten. He’s all tapping his hand so fervently that I think he’s won, but the dealer says “pair of tens.” I’m all
“heeeeeyyyy, I CAN BEAT THAT!”
Boom!
Whheeeeeee.

I still want to vomit.

Right after that, Mary reverse Hoys some guy with the nut flush where she stacks him for $300 but leaves him with $3 in whites. L.O.L.

Alceste left to go play 2/5.

I had one interesting hand: I have 45o in the big blind. I check my option. The flop is 3c6s9c. It checks to baseball jersey guy and he bets $7, four in front of me call, so I call too. Turn is 2s. I check, so does EVERYBODY ELSE! Grrr.
River is the 9s.

Sighing, I check again. Baseball cap bets $11, it folds to me and I minraise to $22. It folds back to baseball cap and now he tanks for like three minutes and then BOOM he goes all-in for $92.

WHHAATTTT?

I spend about a minute kicking myself for not betting the turn. Another minute kicking myself for raising the river and then another two minutes trying to figure out what on earth he could have. I dismissed the spade flush and settled on the busted club draw and called.

Baseball cap triumphantly slams down 98off.

“What is that? Trip nines?” I ask

Dealer repeats “trip nines.”

I may have audibly snorted as I turned over my straight. Then I got accused of slowrolling as baseball guy stormed off in a huff. I didn’t respond at all, but mostly couldn’t believe that dude would shove in that spot with trip nines and not even think for a moment he might be beat. Weird.

I had a couple of more big pairs (Kings, which held up and Aces, which did not) but by the time AROD dealer sat in the box at 2, I had about $350 in front. AROD is my second most unlucky dealer at Harrah’s. His first hand he deals me pocket jacks. I lose $21 playing them to the King high flop. Then he gives me sevens, burning another $13. Then Alceste texts to see if we could switch over to the Borgata, since that was my main plan anyway.

DUDE! TOTALLY!

I was UTG, so I wrote back saying “one more hand.” Yes, yes. I know. It’s like being two days away from retirement for a movie cop. I get AK and bet $7, I fold to the reraise and curse AROD dealer with my mind.

Next stop Borgata.

The list for 1/2 was ridick. I was 22. Mary was 21. So, I took that opportunity to go see about getting a black card. IT TOTALLY WORKED! I did a little dance! And about six minutes later, our 1/2 seats were ready.

Alceste and I were seated at the same table. To say I was card dead does not even begin to describe it. I posted blinds and folded for 3 hours. I was mid whiny text to Alceste at the start of hour four when I got AK in the big blind. You KNOW Dawn is having a baaad session when she’s excited to see AK. Our table was aggressive and RAN-DOM. Some dude with 2s6s would scoop a pot against KK after rivering a spade draw, despite huge bets from the kings all the way. Weirdo kid to my left would raise to $20 preflop just for the no reason. Ka-ray-zee.

Anyway, with my AK, I call the $20 raise, along with six other people, of course. The flop is uncoordinated King high. I check. Middle aged man bets $25. The guy to my right is thinking, but I don’t see his cards and move to ship my whole stack to the middle. The dealer practically tackles me.

“Not you yet!”

“Oh. My bad.”

“I guess you have it,” right guy says, shrugging as he folds.

I put my stack in, it folds back to middle aged guy — it’s not much more to him, maybe $40, but he also folds and I win my first damn hand of the Borgata session!

Shortly after that I won another hand off the cokehead Eagles fan (I called the pre flop raise with pocket tens. Seven people saw the flop of 6 2 9. EVERYONE CHECKED! Then I made the weakassiest $11 bet you ever saw when another 9 came on the turn. Only cokehead called. I checked the river 4 and he suddenly bets out $60. Meh. In King Henry we trust… call. He had ace high.)

I thought I was “on a roll!” So I called the $5 PF raise out of the BB with my pocket sevens.

The flop was 679. Not the best flop in the world, but I’ll take it. I bet $22, the swarthy man to my left pushes all-in. The dealer says “$84.” I’m like “total”? And he says “no, I didn’t pull in the $22,” and he just stares at me. I’m all “negro, I’m not here to do maths. How much more?”

Anyway, I call and swarthy man says “are you on a flush draw?”

As I’m shaking my head, another 9 hits on the turn and I breathe a sigh of relief…er… right up until swarthy man turns over 97.

I cry.

Cokehead is all “ouch. That was like a three percenter!”

MMM.

I go for a walk.

When I return, Alceste has a billion dollars in chips which makes no sense cause he’s not wearing any hockey jersey at all!

A couple of hands later I get pocket fours and limp in. The flop is Qh 9h 4s.

I check, swarthy man bets $30, one call and then tilting Asian dude shoves for like $120. I sit up in my chair and I’m like, what in ALL TARNATION?!!!

“All -in”

Swarthy man hems and haws, and then puts his remaining $70 in the middle. The caller folds. So three of us allin see the other streets. I have no idea what they were cause my eyes were shut and I was holding my breath and trying not to vomit. My set held up!

HEN-RIK! HEN-RIK! HEN-RIK!

Now, I have a monster stack, I proceed to start doing dumb things like calling raises out of position AQ off. Then having to fold to $75 bets on the ace high board to a douchbag who was probably bullying me because I had no idea where I was in the hand. I went into lockdown mode at that point. We called it early because the Borgata floor claimed they didn’t get the Rangers/Leaves game (even though the dealer assured me they were lying bags of excrement.)

So, Alceste drove us home while I sweated out the hockey game in the backseat. And even though the Leaves tried their hardest to ruin my whole life, Captain Cally bailed the Rangers the hell out and no one had to jump out of a moving car on the Garden State Parkway.

Whew.

PostHeaderIcon Poker is delicious

I have so much to write, so little time.

2011 is winding down and that means a mad dash rush to get enough Total Rewards tier points before the end of the year, so I don’t fall back to the dreaded Gold Card. Mary, at the other end of the spectrum, has that diamond fever which consumed me in early 2010. All of which to say, if it’s a day that ends in y, the Crackhouse crew is driving down the AC Expressway and making the hard left into the Harrah’s self park garage.

In addition to my poker problem, I’ve also developed a diamond club rolls problem.

DUDE.

They are SO delicious that I stuff my face with them AND stuff my pockets. Shh… don’t tell, I don’t want my access revoked prematurely. The last time I drove down with Mary, Alceste stayed behind, with what is either consumption or black plague. So, the whole way down, I played the “are we closer to Alceste or the Rolls.” The title of this game is funnier using Alceste’s real name because alliteration is always hilarious. But then he would cough his germs on me and my puny girl immune system would crumble and I would die.

Traffic was ATROCIOUS, so we spent a good THREE hours being closer to Alceste. There was a lady and the tiger moment when I had to choose the “cars only” side or the “cars and trucks” side. I chose poorly. I watched all the “cars and trucks” people whizzing by and just knew they were rushing to the diamond club to eat all the rolls. Sadly, I was right.

When I finally got to AC, the diamond club was out of rolls. I spent a lonely twenty minutes chewing on dried breadsticks just to get my carbs fix. Upside? The nice diamond lounge ladies said they liked my new haircut and glasses! Downside? I’m in that place so often, the nice diamond lounge ladies notice when I cut my hair and get glasses. Sigh.

It’s been a while (read: 10 days) since that trip, so I don’t exactly remember everything that happened… UGH, though there was some gross ass PDA at my table that I will never be able to unsee, but I know the first night I was up about a hundred after a roller coastery session, but the next morning I got that horrible bad luck dealer woman. After the first few weeks of 2010, when she consistently dealt me the second nuts, I learned my lesson and just got up from the table, whenever she sat down, and took a break. At some point in early 2011, one of the other players at the table said that when I left, the dealer announced “she hates me. Every time I sit in the box, she leaves.” I laughed and thought nothing of it, but a few weeks after that, I was actually sitting at the table (because it was my big blind and I didn’t want to miss the bad beat, if it hit) AND THIS CHICK DEALS ME OUT! I was livid and stormed away for the half. But after that day, I just decided to stick it out and just fold. Then, I got all employed and wasn’t playing at all, so it didn’t matter. Fast forward to last week:

I’m in manic hours racking mode and now that Harrah’s has these strict limitations on walking away from the table, I pretty much just sit there. Devil woman sits in the box. I fold and fold and fold, finally, I decided to give her a try with Kd5d… An awesome diamond Le Dawn. I am Big blind. Button raises to $7… heeey, that’s what *I* was going to do! So, I call. Flop is a beautiful 9d2dKh I check, some dude bets $10, call, call, button raises to $25. I call, everyone else folds. My heart is beating real fast. Turn? 7D! Huzzah! I check. Button bets $40. I raise to $100 putting him all-in. He calls with pocket tens.

O_o

I win! I win with devil woman! Oh man! Oh happy day! I win another small pot with her, decide not to push my luck and fold out the rest of her half.

ABOUT ONE HOUR LATER, she’s BACK! But hey, I’m feeling okay. The curse is broken! I have a phat stack! Third hand of her push, I get pocket eights. I call. Then old man raises to $12. Three people ahead of me call, so I call, even though I know devil woman is not giving me a set… Q89. OH. MY. GAWD!! I can’t breathe! Old man bets out $40. I immediately figure he has Kings or Aces and he’s doing the big continuation bet thing to push out the straight drawerers. I see my opportunity to double through him right now, before a scary card comes.

I shove for my whole stack, about $270.

HE INSTA CALLS! I AM DOING THE RUNNING MAN IN MY HEAD!

WHEEEEE!

He flips over his cards and I hear someone say “set.” Hey, how’d they know what I have? I haven’t shown yet! I proudly turn over my hand and I hear the table groan all empathetically.

Huh? What?

What’s happening?

He has queens.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

“Wait? Set over set?” I ask glumly.

“Yes, hon,” devil woman moves his cards closer. Better to see them with your new glasses, the devil woman implies.

I cry.

She takes all my chips away.

And cackles.

I shoulda known.

I need a roll. Or thirty.



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