Elle Severe Presents

Pabby Goes to Foxwoods

In Life, Random on August 2, 2012 by Pabby MFNP

I have been to Foxwoods many times in my life but on my last trip, things got quickly and irrevocably out of hand.   Almost to the point where I thought security would be called.  I have never experienced anything like the events of that night, nor will I again, assuming the world doesn’t fall into post-apocalyptic anarchy.

I had an opportunity to go to Foxwoods with my Uncle B Money.  I call him that for this story because he was always super generous.  When I got married, he gave me and my wife a check for 2 grand.  I have not seen that kind of generosity before or since.  To give you a frame of reference, my parents bought us a gravy boat for our china set.  Now don’t get me wrong, I love gravy.  I love the gravy boat and some day when the kids break it, I’m going to be devastated, but it didn’t cost 2 grand.

I was anxious to get there and the drive took longer than 20 minutes because Uncle B Money took all kinds of back roads.   Usually back roads don’t take significantly longer. Then we came in at a weird angle to Foxwoods.  Most girls will tell you they don’t like it when you come in at a weird angle (if they are still awake) and neither did I.  I like coming from the North when you turn a corner and then “Bam! There’s Foxwoods, Motherfucker!”, “Oh shit! It’s a motherfucking palace! I love it! Woo!!!”.  But for us, we turned a corner and the next thing you know, we’re in the parking garage.  No “Woo!”.

We walk to the Main poker room and ask about the wait for tables.  There are no available spots but we put our names on the list.  Then we go to the buffet table.  It’s about 5PM so there was no line to get in. Once we got in, there were about 200 people all inside, all trying to get wings before me.  Now usually I run a clinic on the Foxwoods buffet.  You never saw someone hit a buffet like me.  Not unlike the serial killer in “Se7en”, I am methodical, exacting and worst of all, patient.  However, in all the many Thanksgiving dinners I’ve had at my house, only one person came close to eating as much as me and that was UBM.  I knew I was dealing with an equal so I had tremendous pressure to perform.  He got a bit of head start on me and he was off to the races.

Not unlike the kid in our standardized tests growing up, where the kid went back to his old neighborhood but found things had changed but he didn’t know if it was he who had changed or the neighborhood, I found the Foxwoods buffet had changed.  Maybe I have better taste now, but the food was just not as good. Normally, I have one plate for an appetizer, but after my first plate, I didn’t really feel the need to go back.  I did it anyway just on general principle.  By the time I got back with my second plate, UBM’s third empty plate informed me that I just got served.

So my confidence wasn’t exactly riding high when we got back to the poker room.  Also, now it was a little more packed and there was a small wait for the $1 ante/ $3 raise maximum table (the cheapest table).  But there was no wait for the $1/$5 table so we jumped on that.  We were led to a pit boss who then told us the seats weren’t together. UBM and I wanted to sit together to make it more fun.  He told me that he would pull no punches in any head to head situation and I told him I was glad to hear it.  When people take pity on me in poker because they think I suck, it makes me want to give them a good old-fashioned Jean-Claude Van Dam roundhouse kick to the face.  I’m more than happy to have them think I suck, though, because they don’t see me coming when I have a nasty hand.  But anyway, UBM and I were sent to different tables.  It turns out that my table was actually a $1/$3 table and UBM’s table was a $1/$5 table.  I was finding that things were slightly disorganized in this poker room.  We asked the pit boss to put us together as soon as he could.

I sat down and busted out 3 crisp $100 bills.  A lady to my right calmly informed me that this was a $1/$3 dollar table.  I said, “I know. I plan to lose big.”  Some people at the table laughed but others noticeably licked their chops.  Then I bought $100 in chips.  For my first hand, I was dealt a pair of Queens and I raised to protect them.  No one thought I had anything so almost everyone stayed in.  Then in one of my next cards, I got another Queen and almost ejaculated in my pants (not for the first time).  I raised the same raise as I did before.  Then thankfully someone re-raised me and I just called. Eventually, I would have a full house and I would beat someone else’s straight.  It would be the biggest pot that I would win that night and it would be enough to carry me for a long time.

Eventually a spot opened up at my table and I told the pit boss that my uncle would want to join me at my table as it’s a $1/$3 table.  It was weird to say “Uncle”.  I guess technically he’s my Uncle-in-law but who’s going to say all of that.  I certainly wasn’t going to say “friend” because then he would have thought we were gay which is a common experience for me because I’m not afraid to watch shows like “Gossip Girl” and “The Hills.”  So UBM joined me and we proceeded to play for the next 6 hours.

It was kind of nerve-wracking at first because with the grinding strategy, you rarely chase unless you have something somewhat decent.  I ended up dropping some cards that would have been the winning hand based on the cards that were dealt after me.  But then it turned into something of a long drawn out war and I got a large Dunkin Donuts iced coffee and dug out my trenches.  Gambling by and large doesn’t have much of a hold on me like my other vices have.  Although my family gambles like it’s their job, early on I realized that it wasn’t for me.  When I gamble and lose, it makes me feel empty and alone, kind of like I do after I take down a bucket of KFC.  But I do like watching the degenerate gamblers around me at the table.

When you play for a long time, you end up seeing a lot of people come and go.  There was no end of characters that came in and out.  Some people were cocky.  Some were reserved but then got really mad when they lost.  Some people just got up and left the table without saying anything to anybody.  Then the dealer was left to wonder if the spot should be filled. As is usually the case with me in life, the men at the table didn’t really make an impression on me.  However, some women did.

Retired Lady:
This lady was old enough to be my mother or at least the mother of some girl that I’d be interested in. I felt myself wanting her approval.  I’m programmed to try to get mothers on my side when trying to de-pants their daughters because historically I’ve always needed all the help I could get.  Any disapproval on their end could prove fatal to my efforts.

The Retired Lady was with a small group of other retired ladies and their husbands were all playing somewhere else.  They would all often make jokes about their husbands’ shortcomings or how they would often send them to do one errand or another.  I’m pretty sure my wife could join right in with these conversations.  They were nice ladies by and large, but make no mistake: Retired Lady knew what the eff she was doing.  There were a few times that when she would reveal her winning hand and cock slap everyone in the face.  She did this to me at least once.  I didn’t mind too much, though.  She was a nice lady and I love it when women are good at cards.  Right before she left, though, I got her back.  I had a pair of Aces in the hole and my up cards made it seem like I might have a flush.  Retired Lady knew I didn’t have a flush but eventually I had a pair showing.  She still came at me and I felt like she had my two pair beat but I hung in there.  At the end, I told her I didn’t have the flush, I just have 2 pair. She said that was enough and mucked her cards.  She said nice hand.  It was like the validation that I’ve been waiting for since 1993.  When the retired ladies left, I said, “Have a good night, ladies.”  There was a brief second where I thought they were offended at being called ladies but I think they took it as some kind of weird compliment, almost as if they were thankful that I didn’t think of them as old enough to be my mother and eventually said, “Thanks, you, too.”

Korean Lady:
Besides one of the characters who come into the story later, Korean lady was the only bangable character to come with 50 feet of our table, including the drink girls.  She was about 37 or 38 and she had her younger husband with her.  I get the distinct impression that she owned her own business.  In any event, she was running the show with the husband and when there was only one seat, she sent him off to do something else.  He came back periodically with drinks for her.  She seemed very smart and very crafty but her accent was terrible.  Korean Lady will go the distance in this story and she will be the catalyst of a controversial event and she’s almost indirectly responsible for the anarchy that follows.

Elderly Woman behind the Counter in a Small Casino:
This lady doesn’t come into the story much but I feel like she should be mentioned because she was such a super nice lady.  When I sat down, she was the one who told me I was at a 1/3 table.  Since it was my first time playing that game at the casino, she also clued me in on the little intricacies so I didn’t look foolish.  Also, when she won a hand, she always tipped the dealer.  When she won a really big hand, she would later pay everyone’s ante so everyone could get a free flop if they wanted to play.  You normally don’t see that kind of generosity.  I miss this lady sometimes.  I seem to recognize her face. Haunting, familiar, yet I can’t seem to place it.

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