When The Mood Strikes
No, i'm not talking about the funky get down with the girlfriend mood -- this blog is about golf and poker only you silly.
Today I had a scheduled appointment in Niagara Falls with ye olde accountant, a thin "accountant looking" white guy who does my corporate books. Nice guy. I also made a stop to get my hair cut, knowing full well the irony of getting an actual haircut and a figurative one from Revenue Canada on the same day makes that two in a day. Matt caught on to this. He's good.
As I drove down Victoria Avenue in Niagara Falls it struck me... I have very little to accomplish today beyond my appointments, I have $550 in my pimp ass money clip I just got for my birthday, I have a comfortable sweatshirt in my back seat. Victoria Avenue leads to Casino Niagara once you pass the 420 highway, and that was the direction I was heading.
It's 3pm on a weekday afternoon in the off-tourism season, that's bound to make for a short supply of card games but since I was literally 5 minutes away with the sudden urge to shuffle dirty, semen laden redbird chips and fire value bets at degenerates I parked in the free lot, changed my shirt to poker-mode and in I went.
Upon reaching security, he looked me up and down. This was the first time I didn't reach for my ID. "How old are you, boss?" I rolled my eyes back into my skull trying to come up with my age which had suddenly left me. "30" I stated... he gave a little grin and said "you're in then" and off I went.
Past the grey hairs on their idiot slot machines that pay out poorly, past the crippled wheelchair bound guys sitting at electronic tables with a big dice ball in the middle, past all the people too out of it to figure out they're losing at life simply by being in this wretched old casino playing negative expectation games. I left them in my dust as I cruised down the escalator to the dungeon-like poker room level.
Standing on the rail was one unkept fat guy who had somehow turned off his world of warcraft game. He stood there watching one of the tables on the rail as a mid twenties douche pushed his sad little shortstack pre-flop, got 2 callers and proudly slowrolls Jack Six suited and scoops. After slowrolling he made the "cmere chips" motion with his hands as the dealer pushed the pot just to taunt his opponents. You stay classy, Casino Niagara.
3 tables were running, all 1/2 no limit, all $100 max buyins. One late middle age woman in reasonable clothing sat on a $35 stack surrounded by grubby low-stakes players in dark hoodies with unkept hair and clothing. I wondered if she was enjoying her vacation.
I looked around at the guys that played this lowest of stakes poker game on a weekday afternoon, and recognized at least one from when I first played 2/4 limit at Casino Niagara. Here he was at the same casino, in the same basement poker room. Poor guy. Not everyone can be Durrr I guess.
I didn't even put my name on the list, didn't buy a chip or place a bet. I decided that if this was 1/2 live poker on a thursday afternoon in Niagara, i'll go home and play on the Interweb with a cup of tea instead.
Perhaps it's newfound wisdom one achieves when hitting the magical age of 30 -- your life is what you make of it. This 20 minute side trip shook me out of the urge to play low-stakes B&M casino poker again, at least for now.
Today I had a scheduled appointment in Niagara Falls with ye olde accountant, a thin "accountant looking" white guy who does my corporate books. Nice guy. I also made a stop to get my hair cut, knowing full well the irony of getting an actual haircut and a figurative one from Revenue Canada on the same day makes that two in a day. Matt caught on to this. He's good.
As I drove down Victoria Avenue in Niagara Falls it struck me... I have very little to accomplish today beyond my appointments, I have $550 in my pimp ass money clip I just got for my birthday, I have a comfortable sweatshirt in my back seat. Victoria Avenue leads to Casino Niagara once you pass the 420 highway, and that was the direction I was heading.
It's 3pm on a weekday afternoon in the off-tourism season, that's bound to make for a short supply of card games but since I was literally 5 minutes away with the sudden urge to shuffle dirty, semen laden redbird chips and fire value bets at degenerates I parked in the free lot, changed my shirt to poker-mode and in I went.
Upon reaching security, he looked me up and down. This was the first time I didn't reach for my ID. "How old are you, boss?" I rolled my eyes back into my skull trying to come up with my age which had suddenly left me. "30" I stated... he gave a little grin and said "you're in then" and off I went.
Past the grey hairs on their idiot slot machines that pay out poorly, past the crippled wheelchair bound guys sitting at electronic tables with a big dice ball in the middle, past all the people too out of it to figure out they're losing at life simply by being in this wretched old casino playing negative expectation games. I left them in my dust as I cruised down the escalator to the dungeon-like poker room level.
Standing on the rail was one unkept fat guy who had somehow turned off his world of warcraft game. He stood there watching one of the tables on the rail as a mid twenties douche pushed his sad little shortstack pre-flop, got 2 callers and proudly slowrolls Jack Six suited and scoops. After slowrolling he made the "cmere chips" motion with his hands as the dealer pushed the pot just to taunt his opponents. You stay classy, Casino Niagara.
3 tables were running, all 1/2 no limit, all $100 max buyins. One late middle age woman in reasonable clothing sat on a $35 stack surrounded by grubby low-stakes players in dark hoodies with unkept hair and clothing. I wondered if she was enjoying her vacation.
I looked around at the guys that played this lowest of stakes poker game on a weekday afternoon, and recognized at least one from when I first played 2/4 limit at Casino Niagara. Here he was at the same casino, in the same basement poker room. Poor guy. Not everyone can be Durrr I guess.
I didn't even put my name on the list, didn't buy a chip or place a bet. I decided that if this was 1/2 live poker on a thursday afternoon in Niagara, i'll go home and play on the Interweb with a cup of tea instead.
Perhaps it's newfound wisdom one achieves when hitting the magical age of 30 -- your life is what you make of it. This 20 minute side trip shook me out of the urge to play low-stakes B&M casino poker again, at least for now.
Comments
So, tell me where you're exactly going to be in one hour.
I've got a trusty ole sledgehammer, a slightly bent 2-iron and fists o' fury that say that money clip is mine, yo!
try seneca across the border, they're much better run.