The Blind Fox Hand
4. Aug 2000
I'm sitting at a poker table, trying not to lose my mind after twelve hours of play, I'm looking around the table and I only see familiar faces, even the fresh ones aren't new to me, same loser faces I see at this table every time,... there's a guy that drives a cab at night, but that cab of his seems parked for weeks in front of the cardclub, and his ass seems glued permanently to that seat over there... his young wife came ringing at the door once and the security guy came to our table looking very embarrassed not knowing what to do with the crying lady and the cabbie ran to the toilet to hide and she came in not saying a word and I felt pained and ashamed while she browsed our table with her silent contempt... A young asian player, dressed as sharp as possible is playing standing up, showing off his hold'em prowess, flashing his holecards to the dealer to impress her with his awesome folds, I catch a glimpse of JTo that he throws into the muck utg, and he is staring at the dealer milking her for some admiration, but he gets none, that Viennese chick is not putting it out for no slanteye kid... she smiles broadly to an older local guy though, he's been throwing enormous tips at her when dragging a big pot, and I realized then, this guy is going to get laid tonight, he's gonna shag her blue and he's gonna get off cheap... It's a frenzy in my head, I feel discomfort and I feel guilt sitting there with the scum in the early hours of the morning pretending I have nothing else to do, watching the faces for tells, but only seeing the diseased minds in pursuit of money, where else can a guy make so much with no effort... and it saddens me to find myself silently enjoying their bad beats or stupid moves, enjoying their misery and their misconceptions about themselves, we are all losers, can't you see it, dumbsuckers???...
I wander away in my thoughts... I see images from the distant past, wondering if I really lived that life or is was it just a nice, cozy, fluffy illusion... was it real?, could I really be that happy at some point?... I see myself running home and I open the door and there she is, sitting on the bed crying her eyes out and I feel a miserable pain in my chest seeing her like that and my mind is overrevving frantically searching the database of the past days, what the fuck did I do wrong?, what made her hurt so bad?, I'm a lying bastard and she finally realized it, I was sure, I was scared...
"I was watching Discovery,..." she utters.
"So there was this wildlife documentary... and a cute little fox had four cute little fox kitties...", I felt the pain in my guts, looking at her sobbing like that...
There has to be more. I wait for her to continue..
"And one little fox baby was blind!..."
And as she was crying in my arms I held her tight and felt the hot streaks going thru me, the streaks of love I felt for that little girl, sobbing away over a little blind fox...
"It's on you, sir. It's been raised." I see the dealer with a funny look on his face waiting for me to act. I'm still in half a daze desperately trying to appear tough and in control. My eyes shoot around wishing to hang on to something familiar. Focus returns and I snap my fingers desperately trying to appear casual...
I'm in the blind and I look down and squeeze the edge of my cards just a notch over the green surface... I see:
There was an early very loose limper, everybody else folded and a quiet guy in the small blind raises. This guy has a hand, I know. But the limping fish doesn't, I know that as well. I call.
The flop comes:
The small blind bets, I call, limper calls. Turn is:
The small blind bets, I call, limper calls. River is:
He checks, I bet, limper folds, Silent Bob calls instantly. I drag the pot, he shows black pocket queens.
Merciful Allah, you make my cards run good. I only wish you made me stay true to that girl...
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