This past weekend, Lexi, Billy, Mandy, Kevin and I went to Tahoe. We must have soaked up all the bad Karma last time, because this trip was lots of fun. About the only thing that went wrong was that Billy's Truck's regular headlights died on the way up, so we had to blind everyone with the brights, but we made it to Tahoe without trouble nonetheless. Everyone went skiing while I spent Saturday playing cards. I only made 11 bucks, but I had a great time chatting with a few of the other players. The morning poker table crowd is a strange mix of old men drinking coffee and bleary eyed drunks still left over from the night before. Two characters of note were spicy corona man and the black russian flirt.
Spicy Corona man was from Monterey Mexico. He had been drinking coronas that he kept adding sweet and spicy mexican hot sauce to. Despite the fact that the hot sauce bottle was almost empty, his play was still respectably sane. His head would hang loosely off his neck as though it was ready to fall off until it was his turn, when someone would remind him he had cards. However as soon as he had to play he would carefully consider his cards and then fold or raise. The pots he raised, he usually won or atleast showed down a respectable holding. As soon as he had won or folded, his head would slump back down. He left the table after he finished the last of his hot sauce and the waitress refused to get him another corona.
The black russian flirt did not do so well at the table. When I first sat down, he was explaining to another player how he had a fight with his girlfriend earlier and he was waiting to go fix things once she had calmed down. He started off playing ok, but as soon as a cute waitress from Brazil started her shift. After that, he ordered about 6 black russians in the space of about a half hour just so he could ask the waitress her name each time. He kept thinking he could get her to go out with him to the improv that night. The more he drank, the more he was convinced this was the case. After about the 5th black russian, the quality of his play dropped of dramatically. He lost $200 in a span of about 30 minutes, chasing straight hands all the way to the river and showing down junk. After the last of his money was gone, he slowly rose from his chair. He swayed towards the exit, then turned towards the back of the poker room, then back out into the casino, where he passed out on a row of slot machines. A crowd of casino workers gathered and carried him to the elevator. I would have paid for tickets to the fight that must have ensued when they dragged him, dead drunk at 10am into the hotel room where his girlfriend was waiting.
The two most engaging players at the table were a programmer for golfballs.com and an English teacher from Santa Barbara. I had a great time just sitting and chatting with them.
After everyone finished skiing, we all went to Cecil's Steak and Brew. It's kind of a cross between a Morton's and a Cheesecake Factory (half big steaks and half big salads). The steaks were great and there was so much food it fed us for breakfast the next day.
Billy, Mandy and I left early on Sunday so that they could get back to LA in time to catch their flight to Hawaii. I wish they had more time to spend with us, but how often do you get the chance to get to go to Hawaii.
Almost forgot. Earlier last week I had won a $10 tournament where the prize was the $200 entry into a tournament on Saturday. I couldn't play as I was going to Tahoe so I gave the entry to my friend Yann with the deal that we split the winnings. He managed to win $400 so I made $190 on my initial investment. Not bad. I just won another satellite tournament to a $100,000 dollar tournament that starts on my birthday. I should be able to play that. My tournament play is improving. It's really a matter of being very patient, coming in with aggression, and continuing that aggression post flop in the right amount to drive out chasers or build a huge pot if you have flopped a monster.
Yesterday I took the GRE. I was upset that my scores from my last GRE had expired. When they say they last about 5 years, they don't mean a little over 5 years, they mean a little under 5 years. Doh. Anyhow, I signed up to take it again. Here are the results (out of 800)
Finished an hour early
We'll see if they're good enough for Stanford. Though I'm not sure if I would prefer to go to Stanford or work at the Medicare Research center crunching data. I'm about ready for an office job. Punch in 9-5. No baggage to take home. I've got my mug and stapler all ready. And if they take my stapler I'm....I'm...I'm gonna burn down the building. Just Kidding. Damn it feels good to be a gangster.