A Lady Doesn't Wander All Over the Room

and then blow on some other guys, er, cards.

By Frankie's definition, I think I've met a lady, insofar as she is Luck incarnate, carnality notwithstanding.

The story goes like this: I'm playing hold 'em, getting no love from the dealer (some might go so far as to call him a flip-flopper, but your faithful chronicler is above such low-brow wordplay). Anyway, I busted out of the main Monday night tournament without even making the top 15, after a series of lackluster hands (or at least some hack-hustler betting). I can't say that I blame Fortune, since she was right there all the time, I just wasn't reading her signals correctly.

Which is understandable, or at least should be. Sending mixed signals is the Fates' stock-in-trade; it's sorting through the noise that makes a gambler (or suitor) successful. The form in which She revealed herself last night was particularly well suited (no, that wasn't a card pun) to such tactics, and not above capitalizing on it. By all accounts she placed the establishment in danger of running out of alcohol altogether, and I'm not sure she paid for her own drinks once.

If you're wondering what this has to do with poker, I'm getting there (poker, I just met her! (ok, that one was)). During the second tournament (called Turbo, since the blinds go up every time you blink), the Lady was in full force. Now, no one said She could aim. Indeed, in the first hand, five players out of eleven went all in before the flop. I guess I'm not the only one easily enamoured. Fortunately for me, I wasn't among them, as the winner had a big slick of diamonds, which took a flush, knocking out a Siegfried & Roy, a Barbara Feldon, another set of Hilton Sisters, and an a Jack-queen or something). I didn't win those chips to begin with, since I didn't play that hand, but I got them in the end.

After waiting patiently all night, Luck came and sat down next to me, and explained that I should buy her a shot. Although in flagrant violation of the beer-before-liquor-never-been-sicker rule, she seemed willing to take her chances along with my money. While she was negotiating with me thus, my cards seemed to be FedExed from Mt. Olympus or something, because I couldn't lose. In the span of five hands, I had gone from fourth place to second, and won it in another two. I wish I could narrate all the ins and outs of how I did it (for the readers' benefit and my own) but I can't for the life of me remember any of it. This Fate might have been part Siren, part Medusa, but more power to her; she got me more face cards in ten minutes than I'd seen in two weeks.

Anyway, I agreed to her proposal, and told her to put whatever she wanted on my tab. (Note: I'm not a sucker in general, but the way I figure it, by being way too single for way too long, I've missed out on buying things for pretty girls, which means I have too much money to spend on junk at places like Old Navy and Del Taco, so really, it was an investment...right).

Who'dathunk you could hold fifteen dollars' worth of suds in a shot glass?

I don't care, I won, and I can always make more money doing things that aren't nearly as enjoyable as playing poker. It doesn't look like dancing is one of them in my case though, as I found yet another way to cause excrutiating pain inadvertantly.

I finally got the cute bartender to dance with me (she was off-duty), and we were doing fairly well, a swing to "Friends in Low Places (hopefully not new orleans)". Anyway, she hits her foot on the leg of a table and just about cries, which doesn't really add up; bartenders tend to have pretty strong feet, it being in the job description. Turns out she had a brand-new tattoo on that foot, and she wasn't even wearing a sock (presumably so she could show it off). Just goes to show ya, there's more than one way to skin a cat.

// Post-Katrina Update
For those of you not lucky enough to be sitting at around 7000 feet, well above the hurricane's level, you're probably thinking that the tone of this article could stand some improvement. Then again, if you're lucky enough to have power to read this, then you could do a whole lot worse. I thought about delaying the publication of this one, but then again, it seems ironically appropriate that I wrote about the fickleness of Luck on the day before she sacked a dozen or more floating casinos.

I was just about to suggest over at HalfBakery that they make the next round of riverboat casinos be aboard submarines, then figured some other nut would've already thought of that, and I was right. Interestingly enough, the Kentucky legislature had an idea in that same vein, but for a different purpose altogether.

Back to the Drawing Board, I Guess

I just noticed that one of what was formerly the top dog of websites online, aol.com, is now sporting a Beta Mode disclaimer on its main page. That's right, the service known for going from version 4.0 to 10.0 without adding any notable features, or, indeed, fixing any flaws, has humbled itself to the point of AOL Beta. Somebody should tell the marketing department that "beta," as it relates to software, is generally Not A Good Thing (with one very notable exception).

I'm back at work now, hacking away at code that's older than I am. I don't think Da Vinci was involved in it, because so far everything has been much more cryptic than the book. I'm walking a fine line of improving things and not hurting the feelings of my predecessor/supervisor, who are one person in my case.

Anyway, I played the most unremarkable three hands of poker last night. I only went because it was at On the Rocks, which is a much nicer place to play than over at Sticks, even if the prizes aren't as big. For one thing, the ventilation is better, and since the tables are so nice, people can't have their cigs over the felt, which means we can all breathe a little easier (sorry, it's early).

I'm liking Verizon so far. I even managed to sweet-talk the lady at tech support to authorizing use of my employee discount at a retail location here to pick up an accessory, out the stock of which they were. Not bad for a faceless megacorporation.

Well, almost faceless.

Upswing Downtown

Thanks to a much-needed tip from my boss, I am now in contact with actual swing dancers in Colorado Springs. Turns out they rent out the dance floor of a VFW (of which it turns out this town has more than most, and of which only one hosts swing dancing). They had a crowd of maybe 50 people, thirty of them women, and the average age was probably 25. Which means I'm going back. I made it through about twenty girls before one of them turned me down for a dance. Of course there was the one jerk couple who wouldn't ever change partners with anyone else, but it's their loss, since they won't learn a fraction as much from each other as from the room at large.

They're actually having an aerial clinic next week, but the ceilings at the VFW are only eight feet high, which doesn't leave much room for showing off. The other really exciting thing was that they had probably the best swing DJ I've ever seen there. All of the tracks but like two were recordings I hadn't heard before, and if there's one complaint I had about Samford, it was the lack of any attempt at musical diversity.

On the poker front, things are pretty consistently underwhelming. I've about determined that game has more to do with dumb luck and ego battles than actual math. When you find out that the strategy has pretty much already been solved, it takes some of the fun out of the game. I won third yesterday, busted out early Saturday night (with a full house - queens over kings - no less), played poorly Friday, but won a free drink as a door prize, did mediocre on Thursday, and got third or fourth on Tuesday. I think that brings us back to Monday night, when I had second, and lost to the bartender. It's kinda fishy when the bartender wins a free tab; what's she gonna do, tip herself?

I'm all settled into my room now, and it looks like I'll just make it to Thursday, which is payday (observed). That probably makes my creditors happier than it makes me, but what the hey. All I've got left to buy is dancing shoes, a card counter, and a TiVo, and I'm home free. I've got all the computers I can stand at work, and buying a PDA wouldn't help much, as I'm not exactly mobile, and when I am, I don't wanna think about work.

Anyway, speaking of not thinking about work, my lunch hour is almost over, so I'd better get back to it. Ciao.

So Productive I'm Practically Useless

Well the saga with the furniture continues unabated. I've got some pictures to upload as soon as I get back to my home computer. The predicament with the couch has to be seen to be believed.

In the meantime, I got some sheets, pillowcases, and a comforter from Target. I ended up going with bright red sheets and a khaki comforter, which, coincidentally, matches my car. All I need now is the Honda logo embroidered onto it.

I slept the last two nights on the mattress, even though it's not installed into my room yet. It looks like roommate #2 is going to have to go to work on the window in my room to create an escape path for the couch. If it were up to me, I'd dismantle (read: obliterate) the thing, but it's not my couch, even if I did rent the space out from under it.

I played some more Holdem last night at Sticks, but only got fourth place out of 20. They gave prizes to the top three, naturally. I might've had more fun if I'd enjoyed the players' personalities, or if they'd had any. Really only one other guy looked like he was enjoying himself, and there were no women this time. At least they have two more games tonight I can choose from.

I'm supposed to be learning Visual Studio 2003 .NET over the weekend, which is not so much hard as it is mind-numbingly complicated. Imagine everything you hate about Windows, double that, and then take out the good parts. Maybe I'm being a little harsh, but I guess I just feel bad for selling out.

Anyway, I've been having fun with several new (for me) Firefox extensions. I've got one now that automatically generates random passwords and remembers form information and passwords for all the sites I go to. I've got it running off a USB stick, and it's secure, as long as I don't release the master password. I won't use it in the classified room, of course, since USB drives are forbidden there. That and the internet itself.

Well, I'd better get back to work. Those missiles aren't going to blow themselves up (I hope).

Texas Fold 'Em Already

Well they say the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. I'm working on that step at the moment with regard to playing poker. I've played five games already this week, came in third Sunday afternoon, twelfth Sunday night, then like fifth in a little "turbo" round, then busted out last night at the seven o'clock game (lost 4000 chips with 3 kings; it happens), but finally got second place at 12:30 this morning at a different place.

I'm not playing with actual money, but there are prizes for winning, including free food, beverages, and pool, not to mention all the glory. One kid in particular has been infuriating me, as he beat me twice on Sunday. I played him again last night, but he busted out early on a hand I had folded on, so I didn't get much satisfaction that way. He's up to $300 in free stuff that he's won playing around town, and wants to play in the Denver Poker Tour for $50,000. I'm not at that level yet, but it wouldn't hurt to have that kind of cash at my disposal.

I did a ton of shopping this weekend, and now I'm the owner of a sho-nuff queen-sized bed, dresser, and matching end table. I still have the problem of cajoling my roommate with the pickup truck to help me move it, not to mention actually getting the stuff in the room. I think I'll make getting it home my goal for today, and if I have to take a poker break, so be it.

One thing I have going for me in poker is the fact that very few people can figure out what I'm thinking at any given time, even if I try to explain it to them. Poker is one of the very few avenues where this inability to communicate to people is an asset. I tend to play excellently when there are six or more players, but when it gets down to three or four, I have trouble knowing when to bluff. My thinking is that bluffing is an unreliable strategy if employed more than absolutely necessary, but on the other hand, I now have a reputation for having cards to back up my chips when I put them in, so it goes both ways. I should make a habit of pulling at least one cold bluff a night just to stay unpredictable.

Work is going well. I went to a meeting yesterday that consisted of 98% acronyms, 97% of which I don't know the meaning of. I suspect that half of those were made up on the spot for my benefit, and the other half describe classified activities that I'm not even allowed to know about. There's always something. I now have a candy jar on my desk, which makes it more fun to be at work than at home.

I'm gonna have to find a poker game where the other players don't smoke all night. Half my wardrobe smells like Camels now, and the other half is dirty. There isn't enough air to go aroudn as it is up here, and polluting it just doesn't help matters. I guess I'll have to win quicker in the future.