Just Take My Money Already

So the Poker Story has turned bitter, my children, and I know you could care less, but I can't afford therapy thanks to my donkey ways at the table, so...

On Valentine's Day, I had the best night of my life on the felt and made good coin. Five times since then I've played cards with people for money, and five times since, my wallet has regretted it.

The really nice thing is that the losses have been all over the place. I've had nights where I've been just plain card dead, and nights when I've just been outplayed. Some nights, I've had bad beats; other times, I've had the feeling that I was broadcasting my hole cards on my face, and should just have the hands dealt face up to me to make things a little less obvious.

Some nights, I've been too tight; others, too loose. When I've slow-played high pairs, they've been cracked; when I raised them pre-flop, everyone bailed and I made nothing but the blinds. It's been a joy.

Sensing my weakness, the game that I host finally broke through into the fabled Two Table stage, with 14 players making it the Friday the 13th event. That went so well that I took Nyquil afterward and slept for 24 hours, dreaming of unemployment and homelessness. Good times!

There's still room for a few more at the Home Game -- hell, maybe I'll just deal from now on -- and you never know how many players will keep coming back, so if you're local and interested, there's still seats available... but probably for not much longer, because once we get to, say, 18, we're out of table spots, and the room can't really fit that many people anyway. So long as the host is tossing out free money, I'm thinking we'll have a popular game. (And no, this isn't a case of crying poor to get some new fish into the net. Right now, I'm the fish, and I come with my own pan and spices. Dig in.)