OK. First. I hereby swear I will lay off the $5/$10 tables until I am of legal bankroll to partake - but damn, they're exciting.
OK. Second. I'm at the $25 NL table on Empire, and doing fairly well, having more than doubled up on a big hand - my quads demolishing a full house. I'm playing a good tight-aggressive game. A pair of fives - presto - lands softly in front of me and I pay the price to see the flop. A nice little five winks at me from the felt, as two suits settle down next to it. A big bet slams down across the table. I pause... then slide a re-raise coyly to the middle. He slams another raise down. I pause again... then I smile, inwardly, as I confidently push the rest of my chips to the middle. He calls, rudely splashing the pot with his chips.
I then watch in horror as two more suited thugs join their buddies on the table and the brute across from me flips over his deuces - one of them hooks up with his buddies on the table, smugly grabs the pot, and laughs menacingly at my three fives, which lay there, bruised, beaten and in shock.
Crippled and nearly broken, I sit there, left with only the few chips that had him covered, barely enough for a stiff drink and one pull on a slot, if this were any place other than a virtual room with only the memory of cigarrette smoke hanging heavily in the air and the incessant din of the slots just outside the door...
Cards appear before me, one, two, three times. Fold. Fold. Fold. I know I should stand up and walk away. Today is done. "Put it behind you and move on." Dully, I peer at the next two cards that have slid silently across the felt to me. I say, "What the hell," and throw my case chips into the pot.
The hand is nearly over when I realize I'm pulling down the nut flush. I blink... and realize I'm pulling down the nut strait flush. I blink again and realize I have pulled down the nut strait royal flush. My first. I double up. Drinks are on me... that is if you're drinking water. Oh, and can you leave the tip?
