PostHeaderIcon Dawn Summers: barely stronger than the storm


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?”


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.


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.”

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

“I don’t want to show.”


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.

Flop: KhQhJc


I bet $40.



Turn 8c

I go all-in.


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?

5 Responses to “Dawn Summers: barely stronger than the storm”

  • alceste says:

    For the record, did not want to stay for the crazy because I was stuck, I just wanted to stay for the crazy because it was a better game.

  • Mary says:

    I too hate getting those big hands when you’ve decided to leave but I think you’ve got to play them the same way and not scared.

    On Friday night, my penultimate hand was AA – even with 5 callers to my $17 raise of the $4 straddle, they held up. On Saturday, my AA hand came several hands before leaving (and they held up). But I played last night and my last hand was KK – which ran into AA and A10. I lost but at least the AA guy only had $70.

  • alceste says:

    Still disturbed by the lack of comments.

  • Grange95 says:

    “Jets hat dick” is an STD that causes men who are faced with pressure to uncontrollably ejaculate into their own face. The condition has become epidemic in NYC ever since Mark Sanchez became the Jets’ QB. Coincidence? I think not.

    Also, the proper response in polite society to a sangria weatherboarding is “Thank you, kind sir.”

  • dawn summers says:


    I think the rule is, if I win the session, there will be no comments.

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