♠ Monday, August 01, 2005
Still Dreaming about Poker
I had another dream about poker last night. This time, at least, I wasn't being bad-beat. I had something like Queen-Ten suited, flopped the broadway straight, and rivered the flush, and got paid off in two places.
This was in a limit game at the Orleans in Las Vegas, apparently. It didn't look like the Orleans, but with dream-logic, that's where it was. So, yet again, I'm dreaming that I'm already in Las Vegas. After that hand, I went to the bathroom (and took a shower—dream logic again), came back, and there was some confusion about which stack of red chips was mine. They'd colored me up, but why would they color me up only to red? In any case, I had made a profit of several hundred dollars playing low-stakes limit poker.
The only surprising thing about the dream was that I was in Vegas; I had just finished a nice session of $3/$6 in Mt.Pleasant. I only walked away about +$90, but this was after losing my first hundred and then going on a three-hundred-dollar rush. Unfortunately when I got back from dinner I took several bad beats in a row, and the table wasn't nearly as good anyway. I looked around for a different table, and eventually joined the one Gil was on, but the action had dried up a lot relative to earlier in the day. The best $3/$6 table I saw at that point was about five players to the flop, and that was Gil's; before dinner my table was averaging seven to nine players to the flop. Unfortunately the people even making Gil's table five to the flop apparently left just as I was getting there (I had to take somebody's seat . . . ) and so the table turned out to be three to four people to the flop, or about what I'd left on the other table. Still, I won a nice hand right before we left, so I didn't embarrass myself by finishing only even after being up over $200 at one point.
Right before we left, one of the regular's at Pete's game (which I called Pete the Dragon, below) showed up on our table. It took a while before I was able to place him; I knew I'd played him before but I couldn't remember where. He looked to be settling in to a good session.
I'm tempted to respond to the critics of my last post, which probably wasn't so much about the post itself as about me generally. Gil and I came to different conclusions about who my critic is. If Gil is right, then I can discount the criticism of my game because I have no respect for my critic's game (though I can understand why he'd have no respect for mine). But I actually think my critic is one of several people I've played only once, at a home game, where I was, in fact, probably the sixth or seventh best player at the table. I reacted by playing tighter than I should have, and got pushed off several hands, but I can be excused by being pretty inexperienced at big-bet poker at that point, particularly live. So, his assessment of my game is correct for that time. It's significant that I correctly assessed my game at that time, too, and didn't go back to a game where I was the sixth or seventh best player.
It's possible that I continue to play with this critic; there is some overlap between the players of that game and the players in Pete's game. But I don't think so; this criticism reads like it comes from someone whom I've played once.
There's a good bit there criticising my psychological makeup and particularly my self-assessment in my last post, but I already covered that ground pretty extensively last time I became a 2+2 whippingboy. I could repeat my point of view, but if you've been reading regularly, and you don't understand now, you'll never understand. I'm not going to waste more virtual breath trying to explain myself.
That sounded as if it was aimed at a particular critic, that last, but it wasn't: It was aimed generally at the people who, when I talk about myself as honestly as I can, point to what I say and tell me how useless I am. Well, fuck you too; let's see how good you look when you publish how messed up you are for all to see. I'm trying to find a way to fit into the world despite my flaws and you tell me it's hopeless, I'm not going to fit in that way, either. Well, go fuck yourself.
For the second time, I can see the point at which I'll head west and get a job there; I'm only a few hundred dollars away. That happened before, and I went on a protracted slide, but barring that I should be about two weeks away from heading west. That's pretty much where I've said I was for a month now, but at least now I'm including some time to get my money out of NeTeller etc and making arrangements for interviews in Las Vegas. In other words, I'm assuming that I'll be where I need to be financially, within a week. The facts might turn out to be different, but that's what my limited prognosticating skill tells me.
Words that Rhyme with "Orange"
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