Almost famous. . . .
It was a toss-up - go camping at Pierre's parents 300 acres in Rhode Island or do nothing and be lazy. Despite the fact I usually don't like sleeping outside, I went for it. I figured the next day I would shoot down to Foxwoods and check out their new poker room. . .
I get out of the car and immediately see a familiar face - Alex's friend Andre I met like four years ago in NYC. Most of Alex's friends are French, and they all went to a French elementary school in Manhattan. He was with two other people. We all set out for the woods. I asked if they knew where we were going. There were frogs croaking all around. She said, "Just go where the frogs are getting louder." This was humorous on many levels - mainly that the term "double entendre" itself is french. . .
I saw tiki torches and a lot of people. I wore nice shoes, but I brought sneakers so I wouldn't ruin my new nice ones. Of course as soon as I saw Andre I just wanted to see Alex and then change, but that didn't happen. Instead, I had muddy leather shoes and was surrounded by tiki torches, tons of people, and a 90 pound pig. At that moment I knew I would have to start an alliance sooner rather than later. I saw tons of people I hadn't seen in years, and it was fun. I talked to Pierre for about an hour about Berlin, where I'll be going in two weeks. He suggested we skip Dresden, and maybe that will happen. . .other notable things that happened that night:
-I was chatting with Pierre and Yousef when four girls called me over and told me to sit down in a chair. They explained that I was going to be a participant in "camp speed-dating." They told me I had 5 minutes to impress this woman who was sitting in the chair next to me. Now, I had no interest in this situation and I felt like I had been put in an uncomfortable situation. So, I decided to fight fire with fire - I just sat there and looked like I was about to say something without saying anything. Then I would stop and make it look like I was thinking. Then I would open my mouth like I was going to say something, but I wouldn't. . . .After about two minutes, the girls said "Wow Glen, you're doing a terrible job here. . ." I said nothing. Then the other contestant in this really fun game said "Yah, you're not doing a good job." After about four minutes, I asked "Did you like Pulp Fiction?" She said, "I've never seen it." I said nothing for the next minute and that was that. . . she kind of just walked away and Pierre sat down and we started talking about his real estate job. . .
-Two months ago, Pierre said the Strokes would be there. It turned out they were still gonna be on tour and Pierre knew his brother wouldn't be there for a long time, but I had thought the possibility of an improv acoustic song or two by the campfire might happen. Instead this random dude had a guitar (there's always one). He played the Nirvana cover of the Meat Puppet's "Lake of Fire." Alex started to sing it a little to himself, but he was struggling with the words, so I took over and still struggled with the words. It was a vocal rendition that could be aptly described as a "crime against humanity."
-At the end of the night I went to camp out in my car. I followed a path and stumbled upon a massive puddle. I tried to circumvent it, but I ended up back at the site of the cookout. I said "Fuck it, I'll just hang out some more." I sat down and started talking to Lucienne. Lucienne had the bottle of whiskey I brought and said, "I bet you didn't know I had this." I said, "I didn't, I thought it was in my bag." The party had %100 beer and a few bottle of twisted tea. He said, "Ha, yeeeaaahh, well here I'll give it back." I opened my bag and there was another bottle of Jack Daniels - both were about half-empty. He looked at me with a puzzled expression. I was puzzled as well, but I just said, "I learned that one from David Blaine, sir. . ." and headed to bed. I still have no idea how that happened, but I'm going to pretend I really did do some magic. . .
Alex et Yousef. . .
-I woke up when the sun hit my windshield and turned my car into an oven. I didn't know who was up, and I needed to get some water and breakfast, so I just hit the road for Foxwoods. I drove with just socks, too, which I have never done but it feels like walking barefoot on the beach, in a mechanical sort of way. I got to Foxwoods, where I haven't been since Matt took his legendary bad beat to Mark Seif on the bubble about six months ago. Without getting into the story, I was sweating him earlier in the day when he was playing at a table on the edge of the room. Then he got moved to the middle of the room - to a table with Mark Seif and Billy Gazes on his left and Kathy Liebert and Andrew Black on his right. It was not good - objectively speaking. Since it was day 3, they don't let people drift around the room, so I just went to our room. Anyways, about thirty minutes later I get a text message that says "We are leaving right now - pack your bags." It may be hard for some people to understand, but if I were to say "Do you mind if I just take fifteen minutes and cash my big chip in and get cash?" I would probably get the same reaction if I (insert whatever here) . . . you get the idea. Sooo. . . Foxwoods has a new room. I figured I would check it out and maybe play some 40-80, since I hear they have it. I haven't played live in four months, and maybe I would see some people I know etc.
I show up and go to the board. $20-$40 is the biggest game they have. . . sigh - typical Foxwoods. It's really ridiculous that the biggest poker room on the east coast doesn't have a bigger game than that, but that's how it is. I put my name on a $40-$80 interest list. I am the third name on the list. I ask the guy, "Will this game go soon you think?" He looks at me and says, "It depends on whether the list fills. . . " He seems angry that I even asked the question, but then again, all foxwoods employees seem miserable in general.
I drift around the room to see if I see any familiar faces. All I do is look at tables of yellow chips. There is an asian woman from AC that both Matt and I both have played with a bit on pokerstars named "Kieu." She is very attractive - early 40s I think but she could pass for 30. She is married and has 3 or 4 kids, I believe. Matt introduced us a year ago, and now whenever I see her she calls me, and everyone for that matter, "baby." I saw her in Vegas last summer and said hello. She said "GLYNIS, hi baby!" (GLYNIS is my pokerstars handle). Anyways, once Matt was playing $20-$40 at foxwoods, and she came over to say hello. Matt said, "Kieu, grab a seat!" She immediately declined and said, "Noooo, the red chips hurt my eyes!" This is funny for a couple reasons: her husband is a wealthy high-limit player, so she doesn't really care about money; thus, she makes decisions about what limit to play based on how aesthetically pleasing chips are to her eyes; also, it can be true for everyone to some extent for a different reason.
I decide to get some lunch even though I'm not that hungry. The employees at the 5th Street Cafe seemed miserable as well. I get chicken fingers, sit down, and watch espn highlights of Schilling's 200th win. Then a guy at a table next to me says, and rather loudly, "how are you doing?" I give him an "are you talking to me?" look. He senses this and kind of backtracks, "No, I'm just saying. . .have you been playing poker?" "No I'm just on a list," I say. Then I figured it out. I knew what was coming, yet I can't explain why. I KNOW that this guy is going to ask me if I have been on tv. One minute later. . ."You're a pro, right?" Before I can think and formulate a question as to what exactly he considers the criteria for a pro, he says "I know I have seen you playing big games here, with tons of big chips". . . etc. I don't really know what to say, so I just think about why this happens to me so much. "What do you play $20-$40? (in the foxwoods bubble, $20-$40 players are extremely well respected. . . ) Honestly, I don't play live much, but the last four or five trips I have taken, at least one person has asked me if I have been on tv or if I am a known professional, and I have no idea why. I don't really look like any famous pros at all; in fact, the best way I could describe myself with regard to who I ressemble on the WPT is that I am half Erick Lindgren and half pigpen from Charlie Brown. In any case, he got up and told me there was a $75-$150 stud game going on, so I semi-laughed and said, "Ty sir, and good luck out there (in the battlefield of weekend warrior degenerates)" I walked over to the list. The $40-$80 interest list was still three people. I decided to just leave. On my way out, I saw a mall-style photo booth. It seeemd so random that I decided to stop, sit, and get a picture taken. I knew it would only sit on my bureau as a reminder of Foxwoods and my day. I put a dollar in. An 8.5" x 11" portfolio for a picture came out. Pwned. I hate this place. I walked another twenty feet, put the portfolio in the trash, went down the elevator, got in my car, and that was that. . . I drove home and listened to the last three songs on my live Jounrey tape that I bought at a truckstop years ago over and over. If I were in highschool in the late 70's I would have loved that shit. Faithfully is great, the solo at the end of "Who's crying now?" is tight, "Any way you want it" rocks" and "When the lights go down on the city" is also excellent. When I got to Rhode Island I realized I forgot to cash in my 5k chip. Sigh. . .
I get out of the car and immediately see a familiar face - Alex's friend Andre I met like four years ago in NYC. Most of Alex's friends are French, and they all went to a French elementary school in Manhattan. He was with two other people. We all set out for the woods. I asked if they knew where we were going. There were frogs croaking all around. She said, "Just go where the frogs are getting louder." This was humorous on many levels - mainly that the term "double entendre" itself is french. . .
I saw tiki torches and a lot of people. I wore nice shoes, but I brought sneakers so I wouldn't ruin my new nice ones. Of course as soon as I saw Andre I just wanted to see Alex and then change, but that didn't happen. Instead, I had muddy leather shoes and was surrounded by tiki torches, tons of people, and a 90 pound pig. At that moment I knew I would have to start an alliance sooner rather than later. I saw tons of people I hadn't seen in years, and it was fun. I talked to Pierre for about an hour about Berlin, where I'll be going in two weeks. He suggested we skip Dresden, and maybe that will happen. . .other notable things that happened that night:
-I was chatting with Pierre and Yousef when four girls called me over and told me to sit down in a chair. They explained that I was going to be a participant in "camp speed-dating." They told me I had 5 minutes to impress this woman who was sitting in the chair next to me. Now, I had no interest in this situation and I felt like I had been put in an uncomfortable situation. So, I decided to fight fire with fire - I just sat there and looked like I was about to say something without saying anything. Then I would stop and make it look like I was thinking. Then I would open my mouth like I was going to say something, but I wouldn't. . . .After about two minutes, the girls said "Wow Glen, you're doing a terrible job here. . ." I said nothing. Then the other contestant in this really fun game said "Yah, you're not doing a good job." After about four minutes, I asked "Did you like Pulp Fiction?" She said, "I've never seen it." I said nothing for the next minute and that was that. . . she kind of just walked away and Pierre sat down and we started talking about his real estate job. . .
-Two months ago, Pierre said the Strokes would be there. It turned out they were still gonna be on tour and Pierre knew his brother wouldn't be there for a long time, but I had thought the possibility of an improv acoustic song or two by the campfire might happen. Instead this random dude had a guitar (there's always one). He played the Nirvana cover of the Meat Puppet's "Lake of Fire." Alex started to sing it a little to himself, but he was struggling with the words, so I took over and still struggled with the words. It was a vocal rendition that could be aptly described as a "crime against humanity."
-At the end of the night I went to camp out in my car. I followed a path and stumbled upon a massive puddle. I tried to circumvent it, but I ended up back at the site of the cookout. I said "Fuck it, I'll just hang out some more." I sat down and started talking to Lucienne. Lucienne had the bottle of whiskey I brought and said, "I bet you didn't know I had this." I said, "I didn't, I thought it was in my bag." The party had %100 beer and a few bottle of twisted tea. He said, "Ha, yeeeaaahh, well here I'll give it back." I opened my bag and there was another bottle of Jack Daniels - both were about half-empty. He looked at me with a puzzled expression. I was puzzled as well, but I just said, "I learned that one from David Blaine, sir. . ." and headed to bed. I still have no idea how that happened, but I'm going to pretend I really did do some magic. . .
Alex et Yousef. . .
-I woke up when the sun hit my windshield and turned my car into an oven. I didn't know who was up, and I needed to get some water and breakfast, so I just hit the road for Foxwoods. I drove with just socks, too, which I have never done but it feels like walking barefoot on the beach, in a mechanical sort of way. I got to Foxwoods, where I haven't been since Matt took his legendary bad beat to Mark Seif on the bubble about six months ago. Without getting into the story, I was sweating him earlier in the day when he was playing at a table on the edge of the room. Then he got moved to the middle of the room - to a table with Mark Seif and Billy Gazes on his left and Kathy Liebert and Andrew Black on his right. It was not good - objectively speaking. Since it was day 3, they don't let people drift around the room, so I just went to our room. Anyways, about thirty minutes later I get a text message that says "We are leaving right now - pack your bags." It may be hard for some people to understand, but if I were to say "Do you mind if I just take fifteen minutes and cash my big chip in and get cash?" I would probably get the same reaction if I (insert whatever here) . . . you get the idea. Sooo. . . Foxwoods has a new room. I figured I would check it out and maybe play some 40-80, since I hear they have it. I haven't played live in four months, and maybe I would see some people I know etc.
I show up and go to the board. $20-$40 is the biggest game they have. . . sigh - typical Foxwoods. It's really ridiculous that the biggest poker room on the east coast doesn't have a bigger game than that, but that's how it is. I put my name on a $40-$80 interest list. I am the third name on the list. I ask the guy, "Will this game go soon you think?" He looks at me and says, "It depends on whether the list fills. . . " He seems angry that I even asked the question, but then again, all foxwoods employees seem miserable in general.
I drift around the room to see if I see any familiar faces. All I do is look at tables of yellow chips. There is an asian woman from AC that both Matt and I both have played with a bit on pokerstars named "Kieu." She is very attractive - early 40s I think but she could pass for 30. She is married and has 3 or 4 kids, I believe. Matt introduced us a year ago, and now whenever I see her she calls me, and everyone for that matter, "baby." I saw her in Vegas last summer and said hello. She said "GLYNIS, hi baby!" (GLYNIS is my pokerstars handle). Anyways, once Matt was playing $20-$40 at foxwoods, and she came over to say hello. Matt said, "Kieu, grab a seat!" She immediately declined and said, "Noooo, the red chips hurt my eyes!" This is funny for a couple reasons: her husband is a wealthy high-limit player, so she doesn't really care about money; thus, she makes decisions about what limit to play based on how aesthetically pleasing chips are to her eyes; also, it can be true for everyone to some extent for a different reason.
I decide to get some lunch even though I'm not that hungry. The employees at the 5th Street Cafe seemed miserable as well. I get chicken fingers, sit down, and watch espn highlights of Schilling's 200th win. Then a guy at a table next to me says, and rather loudly, "how are you doing?" I give him an "are you talking to me?" look. He senses this and kind of backtracks, "No, I'm just saying. . .have you been playing poker?" "No I'm just on a list," I say. Then I figured it out. I knew what was coming, yet I can't explain why. I KNOW that this guy is going to ask me if I have been on tv. One minute later. . ."You're a pro, right?" Before I can think and formulate a question as to what exactly he considers the criteria for a pro, he says "I know I have seen you playing big games here, with tons of big chips". . . etc. I don't really know what to say, so I just think about why this happens to me so much. "What do you play $20-$40? (in the foxwoods bubble, $20-$40 players are extremely well respected. . . ) Honestly, I don't play live much, but the last four or five trips I have taken, at least one person has asked me if I have been on tv or if I am a known professional, and I have no idea why. I don't really look like any famous pros at all; in fact, the best way I could describe myself with regard to who I ressemble on the WPT is that I am half Erick Lindgren and half pigpen from Charlie Brown. In any case, he got up and told me there was a $75-$150 stud game going on, so I semi-laughed and said, "Ty sir, and good luck out there (in the battlefield of weekend warrior degenerates)" I walked over to the list. The $40-$80 interest list was still three people. I decided to just leave. On my way out, I saw a mall-style photo booth. It seeemd so random that I decided to stop, sit, and get a picture taken. I knew it would only sit on my bureau as a reminder of Foxwoods and my day. I put a dollar in. An 8.5" x 11" portfolio for a picture came out. Pwned. I hate this place. I walked another twenty feet, put the portfolio in the trash, went down the elevator, got in my car, and that was that. . . I drove home and listened to the last three songs on my live Jounrey tape that I bought at a truckstop years ago over and over. If I were in highschool in the late 70's I would have loved that shit. Faithfully is great, the solo at the end of "Who's crying now?" is tight, "Any way you want it" rocks" and "When the lights go down on the city" is also excellent. When I got to Rhode Island I realized I forgot to cash in my 5k chip. Sigh. . .
posted by G.P. at 7:42 PM
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