For several hands I was dealt a series of absolute crap so I used this opportunity to observe and take note. I was quickly confused by the betting structure when, on the flop, someone came in for a raise. I thought, "Huh?" (was that marquee coming on over my head again?) "Well, just keep watching, you'll figure it out," I said to myself, "and hopefully before you enter a pot!"
Then, boing, the light bulb came on, perhaps dimly, but it definitely came on. This was 2 to 6 which meant the bets/raises could be from 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 bucks at any time. That cleared up the confusion, but created another quandary - which was that keeping track of the pot odds was going to be a mess.
I'm a math dunce and cannot calculate with ease. I have to get all fingers and toes involved which can create some serious cramping if I'm not careful. In regular limit, I just count the number of people in the pot and multiply that by the bet de jour. Calculating a come-in for $3 that gets raised by $5 making it $8 to go, etc. was going to nuke my brain cells in quick order. I had no graphic telling me the size of the pot, no calculator to whip out and no paper and pencil to take notes. I resigned to do my best, though, and if the cards looked good and there was a heap-o-chips in the middle of the table, I was going for it.
Each time the cards were dealt, I attempted to keep an eye on everyone as they looked at their cards to see if I could pick up any tells. I also made a concerted effort to keep my face passive and reactionless - not too hard to do as the cards were crappy for quite a while. I did a lot of folding. At one point, the kid to my left was all-in with his last chips. The flop had a couple of threes and there was a lot of action to the river. He flipped over a pair of threes for the quads and won a little jackpot for his efforts.
Although there was a lot of chatter at the table, none of it was directed toward me, which was a-okay. I was happy to be the silent outsider and imagined myself exuding a certain mystique that would serve to throw them off their game and send all their chips home with me (no-one ever said I didn't have a healthy imagination).
Before the blinds came around to me ($1 & $2), I was able to deduce that this table was looser than the Aflack goose. 99.9% of the hands went to the river and what was shown down was dismal. I had entered the land of "Enny-face-or-ace-will-do" via the "Bad Beat" highway. This was going to be a challenge, indeed.
At last, my chance to step up to the plate came. The deal went round
and 
I
looked down to find my girls smiling up at me - a pair of queens (Pauly,
you have your girls, I have mine... ). I have no idea what position I
was in, but when it was time to bet, I believe I came in for $4. I was
called by a few folks. The flop brought a jack and 2 blanks - the girls
were purring. I do not remember all the specifics of the action, but I
do know that I bet another $4 when it was my turn.
Young WPT Gun #2 - Jesse, gave me his best "I'm looking into your soul" stare. Honestly, when I looked up at him and saw that, I almost burst out with a fit of giggles. He raised me, everyone else folded, and I called. Now I would like to say that the betting went smoothly -
Me: (pre-flop) Raise - four
YG #1: Call
Me: (flop) Four
YG#1: (long piercing stare) Raise .... six
Me: Call
But, in actuality it went more like this -
Me: (pre-flop) Raise - (counts out chips..oops, short one) four?
YG #1: Call
Me: (flop) (reaches for chips, knocks over a stack, puts out three) Four (dealer points out one is missing...ooops)
YG#1: (long piercing stare) Raise .... six
Me: (thinking 'he's got gorgeous brown eyes') Call..(now is it six to me for ten or two to make it six... dealer helps count out the chips)
The turn and the river were a blank. Literally. I don't remember them except that they were both under cards. Jesse raised me again on both and I called. He flipped over a jack and a low card for a pair of jacks and I flipped over the queens. The pot was mine!
I quickly stacked the chips like a pro, pleased with myself that I was able to show them a decent hand and, hopefully, get the idea across that I wasn't about to come in with trash. A few more hands went by, and then I realized that I had forgotten to toke the dealer. How did I know this? Well, the cards dealt to me began to land farther and farther away and the dealer's "thank you"s to them that was tipping were a tad louder then before.
This was a pickle. I was too embarrassed to say anything or lob a chip her way, so I resolved to make up for it with my next pot. All I had to do was win it. Yeah. That happened when I called a family pot pre-flop with T-4 suited. Everybody was in, and I thought what the hell, this was turning into trash day after all.
The flop brought me two pair and I bet it all the way. "See, I can play crap just as well as you guys can," I thought to myself. I had them confused now, for sure (uhhh-huhh). I gave 2 chips to the dealer, one for the current pot and one for the previous blunder. She was pleased. The cards started landing in front of me again.
That, I am sad to say, was the last pot I got. The next pot I joined I had pocket fives. The board had a couple of twos and a couple of sevens. When the sevens came I was mildly worried that someone was holding something like J-7 to beat me - but I'd raised my fives preflop and was not re-raised until the river, the 10 seat - James - was the only one in the pot with me. He raised me, and shaking my head, I looked him up anyway. He turned up a seven .... and ..... a two. He hammered me. Hard.
He actually proved to be the better of the players at the table. He was a 'master' of suckouts. He got me a couple of more times on the river. The others would push second pairs all the way to the river and I was dying to get some hands against them, but I was foiled on draws with big raises in front of me and a long string of crappy cards. There were a few that, had I played them, would have taken the pot, but they would have been chasing hands, and I just won't do that. Bit by bit my chips got whittled down as flops missed me and the suckouts continued.
Strong hands were continually busted by trash, but I must hand it to those who lost to the bad beats (myself included) that tempers remained cool and the table stayed friendly. One of the dealers was even announcing "No fold-em hold-em" as he dealt the cards, an understatement to be sure. Had this been online, I would have been up and looking for another table in a heartbeat - it was poker slots at its best (or worst, whatever your viewpoint). I didn't have the bankroll to stay for the loooong haul, which what would have been necessary to beat the table.
The players changed, some leaving, and more coming as tournament time approached, until at the last we were 11 at the table and I was the only girl. I was between Opera Man (a california ex-stock broker stud blonde with a deeeeeeeeeep voice who was a company member of the Santa Fe Opera) and a cute as a button 'surfer dude' type who was an ex-computer geek now stone mason. Another guy across the table who came in late, bummed cigarettes and went through five stacks of chips in quick order.
I did note that all of the players I started out with and who were still there by the time I left had to rebuy at least once, if not more - except James and the Phil Ivey-ish kid (who left after about an hour of my arrival). I rebought once for $20 and when that was whittled to four, and after 3½ hours, I decided to call it quits. I'd already decided early on that I wasn't going to play the tourney, I didn't feel confident I could get an edge on them, and I was growing weary and hungry.
I
saved one chip for a souvenir and, who knows, maybe that chip'll become
a lucky token for me one day ... I still had a little less than half my
original bankroll and with a smile, I left, feeling good that I'd played
the best, albeit somewhat clumsily, I could. I paid attention to position, refused (for the most
part) to play crap hands, bet for value, raised when I thought I had the
best of it and lost as graciously as I could. The looseness of the table
and the betting structure were my downfall. Had this been straight limit,
I feel sure I would have done much better. I would have played more of
my draws, whereas in this game, I was forced to fold them to big bets
too often. I know where most of my mistakes were and have filed that info
away for future consideration and corrective measures.
The sun was still up when I walked out of the casino. I hopped in the bug and drove to the plaza for some dinner somewhere expensive. I got momentarily lost, but eventually found the plaza and a decent parking spot. A peace rally on the square was winding down. It looked like it had been a big one, but now the crowd had thinned. There was some music on the stage and neo-hippies wandering about. Deja-vue all over again...
I checked out the menus posted outside of couple of places and chose
The Ore House for my evening repast. 
When
it was my turn to get seated I was hoping to get on the porch, but knew
that probably wasn't going to happen. I was right. I was seated where
single women dining alone usually get seated. At the back of the restaurant,
in a corner. This has happened to me more times than I care to count.
But, I brushed it off and ordered the Sirloin Brochette with Parmesan
Mashed Potatoes, fresh green beans, and a seasoned rosemary sauce with
a kick. I considered ordering a Margarita, but I was driving and, remembering
a previous adventure in Santa Fe with a margarita, my camera and a full
moon in the desert, I opted to stick with water.
The waiter got a huge tip and I left, satiated and content. I arrived back at the hotel just as it began to rain. I crawled into the huge king-sized bed, watched a movie, read a couple of pages from a book and then fell asleep, my mind full of the day. It was a good day - maybe not financially - but I'd conquered another fear and turned the unknown to the familiar. I can't wait for Vegas, baby!
