Sarah insists that my previous post about my Friday night poker triumph isn’t the whole story, and that the story isn’t complete with telling of my Saturday poker exploits.
On Saturday we visited our friend Bronwen, in Philadelphia. After a martini, a vodka raspberry lemon drop, and a moderately good bottle of wine later, we all found ourselves back her Bronwen’s house jawboning and catching up. Old friends for years, we are incredibly comfortable in each other’s company. The only deck of playing cards Bronwen could scavenge up were shaped like dog bones, and hard to shuffle. For chips we were at a loss, until I was horrified to see Sarah open up a box of unused tampons, which she dumped onto the bed we were sitting on. I divided them into three equal piles and started dealing.
Several drinks into the evening, I got cold-decked. Bronwen hit a pair or better every hand, and slow-played me. I fell for it every time, and she took all my tampons with the triumphant whoop that she had earned oh so heartily.
Oh the shame of it all.