A Late Night at the Hard Rock Casino

On Friday night, Dave (LEIBERMAN!) came down from West Palm to hang out. He had a 7AM flight out of Ft. Lauderdale, so we decided to do what any insomniac in FL does: Gamble. (The actual answer to this is drink, but I wasn't in the mood to crash my family's only car).

The problem with limit poker (especially at really low stakes) is that no one really plays to win. People call almost anything and will end up winning pretty much by accident, and then they justify it as skill. This also means you probably won't win that much money, since all the pots are really small. Oddly enough, after 5+ hours of play, I end up exactly even. Yet, this is not to say I didn't gain any interesting stories (and good quality time with dear Leiberman).

This is by far the winning story. At one point in the night, the guy to my right evidently threw up on the floor next to the table. No one sees this. since he and the table block the orange puddle of vomit on the floor and he was eerily quiet when he did it. Eventually, one of the pit bosses notices, kicks the guy out, and get someone to clean it up. The weird thing is that it took a good 25 minutes for someone to notice. How do you walk past vomit and not even say anything? Even better, the guy who threw up also didn't say a word about it for 25 minutes! He just sat there and played poker as if nothing happened. I guess he didn't want to clean it up, so he figured he shouldn't say anything. That either takes a man with absolutely no shame or just someone who was too drunk to know what happened.

(I'm still working on my writing skills. Hopefully these stories will be more compelling in the future =P)