22. How (not) to be a Millionaire

Daniel M loves sports. Unfortunately, he cannot run more than 5 minutes without getting a terrible back-ache, gets tired after playing 6 minutes of basketball and cannot play tennis to save his life; so, as watching football from the couch doesn’t count, he tried finding a sport that is more suitable for him. Glancing at the screen, he watched golf, pool, horseback riding, volleyball and other boring and difficult-to-do activities, until one day he saw four fat men sitting in comfortable chairs, drinking beer. They were playing poker, and as it was broadcasted on the sports channel, it was clearly regarded as a sport.

Playing poker is a wonderful waste of your time and your money. It is also a wonderful way of getting back in your male side. As a classical pianist, getting into your male side is more essential than what it seems. Unless you are playing a lot of chamber music, you do not get the necessary amount of monthly swearing that is so vital in today’s society. Fortunately, a get together of 5 guys with similar problems can unleash a stream of lovely assaults that could make Mr. Tarantino very happy and proud.
True, there are some girls who like to play cards, and some of them are pretty good at it (especially if they are fat truck drivers from Idaho), but you can all agree that poker is almost the last resort of the macho-man, somewhere between deer-hunting and Steven Segal movies. The unexplained thrill of getting a good hand in poker for a man can only be compared to finding that your favorite Italian shoes are now on a serious discount, for a woman.
Now, Daniel M must confess he had only played twice poker in his life, completely sucked at it, but enjoyed tremendously nevertheless.
For our avid readers, who are not scared of lengthy details, here is a scenario of what a game of poker is like, with myself and my friends. Are you in for a bet?


The place: the tall guy’s small, dusty apartment, somewhere near you.
The atmosphere: a Scorsese's movie wanna-be: lots of booze, cigarettes, a computer allegedly full of porn. All five participants are trying to speak and look as if they were from the ‘hood, although all are nerdy looking white jewish boys.
The participants: The tall guy, the crazy red-head, the skinny banker, yellow beard, and Daniel M.

Each participant is getting a modest amount of chips, in 4 different colors. As Daniel M, yellow beard and the crazy red-head aren’t so rich, the money that is played on is actually ridiculous- you cannot win or lose at an evening more than $12. However, all 5 males are eager to win, destroy and conquer over their opponents, at all costs.
The games begin, after a round of some semi-foul language related to the profession of the skinny banker’s mother.
Daniel M. receives his two cards, which are, of course, terrible. The tall guy places a bet
of a 100 before even glancing at his cards. “He is a terrible player, always doing that”, mumbles the crazy red-head, raising the bet in 25. Everyone else checks and yellow beard folds. Yellow beard, who is the dealer for this round deals the three first cards on the table which do not make life brighter for Daniel M. Yellow beard is mistakenly showing his folded cards. “F*ing amateurs, that’s what I have to say- f*ing amateurs”, the crazy red-head says in a semi-angry voice. “Calm down, man, no need to be so nervous for your pair of 9s”, says the skinny banker and is again being asked for the profession of his mother.
Daniel M. folds in this round, and the skinny banker is winning against the crazy red-head, who, how ironically, had actually only a pair of 9s and was bluffing- quite well, I thought.
There are some more rounds, and Daniel M. becomes addicted to the feeling of the chips in his hands and to the sound the make when touching the dirty table.

The tall guy’s girlfriend is suddenly entering the room. “Hey baby, how is everything? Are you winning?”, she asks him in a girly voice. He is losing badly. “Of course I am babe, I am eating them alive... and I will eat you very soon, when they get the hell out of here”.
She leaves, and everybody is laughing at him. “You are so scared of her, it’s ridiculous”, says the skinny banker. “With your mother working on the streets, I wouldn’t be say things like that”, the tall guy replies. “My mother is NOT working on the streets”, he answers.
“I saw your mother working the other day, but because she is so ugly, nobody was even looking at her”, the tall guy continued.
“Well, she is not as popular as YOUR mother”, came the crazy red-head to the rescue.
“Let’s order a pizza, I’m starving”, interrupts yellow beard. “I have no money”, says the skinny banker. He has in his current possession a pile of chips that looks like a mini version of the Empire state building. Yellow beard points out to it. “What- it’s like, $10 maximum, it’s not enough for a cab back home. Actually, saying that, I am tired and I have to wake up very early tomorrow morning”. “He always quits when he is winning. Such a pathetic loser. F*ing amateurs”, mutters the crazy red-head. We continue playing without him, and I continue to receive awful cards, and fail to bluff or detect who is bluffing. I remain with a very little pile of chips next to me, barely enough for one more round. “All in”, I say. Saying that legendary phrase is almost as thrilling as working as the security guide at the Playboy mansion.
I get the same disgusting cards again. I fold. Walking out of the building I’m still feeling the excitement of the unknown and the thrill of saying “all in”. If only the 5 was a queen and the 8 was a king of diamonds, everything would be different. But isn’t that what life is all about?