[This is part two of Job Searching. To read the first part of the story, click here: Job Searching (Part 1)]
I sat down near the dealer, who had on a black vest with a patch that said, “Morongo Casino,� in hot pink. Chili ran down the wall, which was yellowed from cigarette smoke. It looked fresh and I followed the dripping mixture of beans and ground up beef down to the blue carpet. The stuff, looking like vomit, bubbled. It interrupted the up and down pattern of little stars that lined the carpet. Star. Star. Vomit. Star. Star. I wondered what the story behind this chili stain was. What kind of bad beat caused someone to launch their food into the wall?
“This is 80/160NL, kid. Are you sure got the right table?� said the dealer. One of his front teeth was missing, and he had a thin mustache that curled at the ends. “Sure you’re not looking for 1/2?
I told him I wasn’t and put my money on the green felt. Money speaks louder than words. The dealer shrugged, and started counting the money. I could hear him, under his breath in a whispering grunt, counting 1,2,3.
“This guy’s a pro,� said a man in a yellow polo shirt with a beer in his hand. He was talking to his buddy, who sat on the other side of the dealer.
“How do you know?� he asked. “You sure, Mike?�
Mike shook his head.
“What you can’t tell? Champ over there, he’s a shark. Just look at him.� said Nelson. Nelson, he dressed like a street bum. He wore a blue beanie that had little twigs sticking out from the wool. His green jacket had holes up all over. “Welcome to the table, Champ.� He raised his hand up, and held out it over table. “High five, man.�
I gave him a high five.
“The name’s Nelson. Probably the only famous Nelson you know.�
“So this guy’s really a pro?� said Mike’s friend.
“Can you guys shut up? I’m trying to read here,� said a man, who wore a cowboy hat. He was reading from a book called,
“How to make money: Selling/Buying on EBay.�
The dealer shoved fifty green chips over to me, each worth $80. I started stacking them in piles of five, while the dealer dealt the cards. I threw in two chips because I was the big blind. Playing with chips instead of cash took away some of the pressure of losing money. It was psychological. It didn’t seem like losing money at all.
I peeled my cards up on the edge, just enough so that I could see the number and the suit. Qs-8d.
Nelson called, throwing two chips into the center.
“I raise. Eight chips.� said Mike.
The guy in the cowboy hat folded. He continued reading, only looking up to check what cards he had had. I folded. I made up my mind that I wasn’t going to force things. Although that was contrary to my style of play. I liked seeing flops and bluffing. Playing the man as they say.
The flop came up 2h-Js-8h. Mike shoved into the center a tower of eight chips, and Nelson called without much hesitation. He just counted out the chips in his pile and threw them in. The next card was a six of hearts. Again it was checked over to Mike. He rubbed his nose, and I could see his sweat stained armpit. This time he bet sixteen chips.
“How many chips is that?� asked Nelson. “Sixteen, huh. Hmm. I call.�
The way he called, with this aura of confidence, made me think he had hit his flush. Mike seemed to know, but bet anyways. I looked over to his chip stack; he had about half left and I couldn’t see him folding if Nelson bet on the next card. And that was exactly what happened. Nelson put him all in, and he called. Nelson with the flush and Mike with two pair, Aces and Jacks.
His face turned red, and he held the bottle as if he intended on throwing it at the wall. He shook his head. “SHIT man, how could you play that hand. After I raised!� said Mike. Only a few hundred bills left in his wallet. Not enough to play in this game. “Hold my seat. I’m going to the atm. Don’t leave, alright. I want to get my money back.�
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