Saturday, March 3, 2012

"You're Obsessed With Bosoms!" (The Return of Prudence, Pt 1)

What would happen if I suddenly found myself face to face with a person I memorably—and possibly embarrassingly—blogged about on this very blog?  I mean, if that person had very recently read the blog post that featured her oh so prominently?
Now surely you all remember “Prudence”, the star of what is by far the most popular post on this blog.  How popular?  Well, it has more that double the pageviews of the next most popular post, that’s how popular.  In case you’re one of my few readers who missed the story, or need a reminder of Prudence to see why she was so popular, you can read that post right here
The story about Prudence took place just a day or two before 2011 died and 2012 was born.  When I visited Vegas in January, I did see Prudence again and we chatted briefly and very amicably.  But to my recollection, we did not play together.  And more importantly, I had no reason to believe she had read my blog post about her, which was only up for a few days before I returned to Vegas.
This time, for the February visit I just returned from, I really did have reason to believe she had seen it.  How?  Well, I’m still trying to figure out how I can tell the story of that without revealing “too much”.  By that I mean, without revealing Prudence’s real identity, or for that matter, my own.  Also, it might be a little two “inside baseball” to be of interest to most of you.  So I have to figure out how to do it properly.  I will try, at a later (but not much later) date. But for now, all you need to know is that I had a very good reason to believe she had seen it, and I was a bit apprehensive about it. (Edited to add:  the story can now be revealed on this page here.)
I’m sure you can understand why.  Of course I gave her a pseudonym, as I do with everyone on this blog (the lone exception is Olivia, in this post, because she told us she wanted us to use remember her name when we told her story).  If you hadn’t figured out why I do this, the Prudence story is your answer.  Up until that post, most of the real people who I have mentioned in stories probably wouldn’t be upset if I had used their real names or the name of their real place of employment.  But I used fake names anyway for a couple of reasons.  One, even if the story I first wrote about them wasn’t one they would mind being identified with, there’s always a chance that something they do in the future would be problematic, and then I’d be stuck having to give a fake name to a person who was already properly identified and who the heck would want to keep that straight?  Also, just because I haven’t said anything too embarrassing about any one of my “poker pals” yet, doesn’t mean I don’t have such material and am just waiting for time to blog about it!  Heh heh.  So I played it safe by just using fake names for everyone, and also fake names for the casinos where most of my tales take place.
And furthermore, I initially didn’t tell any of these poker pals about my blog.  I was very much of two minds on this, wanting them to know about it and enjoy it on one hand, and being afraid that they would react differently to me once they found out that anything I witnessed (or that they told me, sometimes in confidence) could end up out there in cyberspace.  Thus another reason for the fake names, I wanted to give everyone involved “plausible deniability” for the more outrageous tales I tell.  Also, I was concerned that these folks might see me differently by reading the blog and noticing the some of the stuff I find so interesting and blog-worthy.  Yeah, I was kind of concerned about revealing too much of myself by letting the featured players (who I consider friends on a basic level) in my stories know about my predilections!  So it was a tough call for me and until I was sort of forced to expose myself, so-to-speak, I played it safe by keeping mum on this blog. 
I guess part of me was kind of hoping the folks mentioned on the blog would find it by themselves, and then figure out who I was or who I must be!  That would actually be fun.  I’d walk into BSC one day and “Jack” would, out of the blue, say to me, “Hey, that must be your blog, talking about the time I flopped you quads  (And then he’d probably give me a hard time for not telling him about my blog on my own.  Then again, I’m not really looking forward to running into Jessica and hearing her say, “Was that you, blogging about my underwear? You bastard!  You pervert!”
Ok, sorry to take so long to get to the point, but the reference I made two paragraphs ago to “my predilections” brings us back to Prudence.  As I said, I had reason to believe she had read my blog post about her “performance” (and that’s really what it was) that night in late December.  But as it turned out, the first two nights I went to BSC this most recent trip, she was nowhere to be found.
But her boyfriend Tom was, he was dealing his normal shift.  And surely if Prudence had read my blog, Tom had as well.  And that kind of scared me a bit, truth be told.  I could easily see Tom being less than thrilled with my blog post, quoting all the outrageous things his girlfriend had said.  For that matter, I could see him getting upset at what I said about him as well.  I couldn’t dismiss the possibility that Tom would want to have “words” with me when he saw me for the first time after reading my post.
OTOH, if I was right, it had been at least a week since they had likely seen my blog post, so they had had ample time to register displeasure with me via a comment on the blog or a nasty email, since I have my email address right on the blog.  And I heard nothing. 
Still, I was relieved when, on that first night back at BSC, soon after I sat down at a table (after falling to see Prudence playing), Tom walked by me on his way to a game and saw me and gave me a “thumbs up” sign.  Hmm, was this his way of saying “hi” to me or was he subtly telling me that he liked the blog?
Very soon after, he came to my game to deal, and I was sitting right next to the dealer’s seat.  He said hello to me by name, but didn’t say another word to me other than to thank me when I tipped him for the one pot he pushed to me.  The next night, it was more of the same.  No Prudence, but Tom again came to my table and dealt.  This time we chatted about a bunch of other stuff, but my blog was not mentioned.
Finally Saturday night, I walked into BSC and noticed Prudence sitting next to the dealer at a game.  This was the night that I was waiting for grrouchie to join me, who until that point I had never met, except in cyberspace.  So I was a little distracted by that, but he hadn’t yet arrived when I noticed Prudence and she noticed me.
We exchanged brief pleasantries, hi, how ya been, that sort of thing. She was sitting at a game next to the dealer and I was just standing there talking to her, this was before I had even gotten my name on the list for a game. Then, I swear, I could actually see a light bulb go off above her head.  “Oh.  I just realized.  I read your story about me.”
Gulp.  I just kind of nodded and waited for more.  Maybe I said, “Oh.”
She started to chuckle.  “You called me Prudence!  I was rolling on the floor, laughing.”
That was a relief.  “Oh, you liked it?” I asked.
“Oh, I loved it.  I can’t believe how much you were able to absorb from that night.  Or how interesting you found it.”
“Well yes.  But that was because, as I pointed out, I was paying absolutely zero attention to the poker.”
Prudence responded, “Yes.  I know.  Oh….and you are obsessed with bosoms!” 

I don’t know this for a fact, but I suspect my face turned red at this accusation.
She said this quite loudly, and probably everyone at the table heard it.  Including the dealer, who I will assign the name “Doug” to as this is his first time mentioned on this blog.  Doug is definitely one of my “pals” and we have had many a long conversation at the poker table or when he was on break. But we had never discussed “bosoms” before, I can assure you.
The line from Prudence got Doug’s attention and he did a double take.  He said, “What’s going on?  Are you writing porn?”  He was of course looking right at me when he said it.
I just laughed and said, “No, not at all.”  Fortunately Doug was too busy dealing the game to pursue this line of inquiry.  I turned my attention back to Prudence.
I said to her, “Well, I think pretty much every man alive is kind of obsessed with them.”
She nodded and trying to change the subject, I said, “Does Tom know about the blog?”
She said “Yes, of course.  He loves it too.”
I asked then why hadn’t he said anything to me the past two nights.  “Oh, he was probably just being discreet.  He didn’t want to ‘out’ you.”
I said, “Oh, like me then?  I’m discreet too, using phony names and all.  That’s why I do it.”
“Yes, it’s very wise that you do that.”
We chatted a bit more and I was very happy that this potentially awkward discussion had gone so well.  And also that, except for Doug, I don’t think anyone else I knew had heard Prudence accuse me of having a bosom obsession.
I went to a table to play and didn’t ask to move to Prudence’s game because I figured I wanted to end up at grrouchie’s game when he showed up.  Before I moved to join grrouchie, I was dealt to by Tom and once again, he said nothing to me about the blog.  Interesting.
I soon moved to grrouchie’s table, both to be sociable and meet him and also to get away from a couple of really good poker players at the table I was first at.  The details of the poker that night have been reported a little bit by me here and a lot by grrouchie here .
I did have a bit of interesting conversation with Dennis that grrouchie witnessed.  He came to the table and said hi to me of course and then said that it seems like it’s been a long time since he’s dealt to me.  I had to agree.  Although his shift coincides with the time I am most often at the BSC, and I had seen him a lot recently, he never seemed to have ended up at the table I was playing at very much lately.
So I said to him, “Yeah, I’ve been here a lot too.  I think you’re avoiding me.”
Dennis replied, “Actually, I think it’s you who’ve been avoiding me.”  He said it with a smile, of course.
I laughed and said, “Well, maybe that’s because you never deal me any cards.”
He took fake umbrage at that. “I’ve dealt you more good cards than any other dealer in this room.  That’s a fact.”
I laughed and said, “Dennis, you dealt me the single worst bad beat I’ve ever had.”  Of course Dennis knew what I was referring to.  The story of how I lost to a Royal Flush is here. I told a very brief version of the story to grrouchie but forgot to tell him that I had already blogged about it.  Anyway, Dennis said to me, “And you’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”
I said, “No, not a chance in hell of that happening.”  He just laughed.
Meanwhile, Prudence was at the next table in front of us.  She was sitting in the same seat at that table as I was at mine, so her back was to me.  I saw Tom going over to talk to her.  All of a sudden, Prudence turns around and points me out to Tom.  They both are laughing, tho I don’t know exactly at what.  Then I hear Tom say to me, loud enough for everyone at both tables to hear, “Man, you really are obsessed with the, um, ‘chesticles’ aren’t you.”  He was rubbing his hand across his own chest as he said this.  All I could do was laugh.
Unfortunately, grrouchie soon after busted out and left.  I was having a bad session myself so I didn’t play too much longer.  I had a question to ask Prudence, who was still playing. She was sitting next to the dealer, Rita, another of my pals.  Rita is a sweet, dear woman, a grandmother, and she has this running gag with me that I am her “future ex-husband”—this despite the fact that she is happily married.
I went over and asked Prudence how she was doing.  Then I said, “You know, the post about you is by far and away the most popular on my blog.”  I purposely whispered this so no one else would hear it.  Prudence responded, quite loudly of course, “I know.  And what did you call it? A ‘vagina mentioning’?”  This got everyone’s attention, including Rita’s.  I’m sure my face turned red again.  Rita was somewhat taken aback, but like the trooper she is, she had a great response.  “See, this is why you’re my future ex-husband.  We’re not even married yet and you’re already cheating on me.”
Prudence then turned to Rita and said about me, “He’s dirty.  You may not know this, but he’s a dirty man.”  I’m pretty sure she didn’t say “dirty old man” and for not calling me “old” I will always love her.
I guess I had that coming.
Rita changed the subject, thankfully, then I had to ask Prudence a question.  “I saw you pointed me out to Tom, and that’s when he made the comment about my so-called obsession.  I know he read the blog, but did he not know it was me who wrote it until just now?”
“No, he knew it all along, trust me, he knew it was you.  He just didn’t say anything.”  She then expressed what seemed like genuine disappointment that I didn’t play at her table that night.  She asked if I would be back tomorrow and I said definitely I would.  She insisted that we play at the same table.  “Yes, let’s do that.  I need the material.”  She laughed and agreed.  And then I said goodnight and headed to my car.
While passing through the very area that this story took place, I saw an obvious hooker (in a pink chiffon dress) talking to a middle aged guy.  They chatted for awhile as I moved around the room to observe.  Unfortunately, they didn’t go off together.  I saw him head over to the nearby bar where he met up with three of his buddies.  It appeared they were huddling as the guy was telling them something.  Now it’s possible he was trying to convince them to all go in on the services the young lady was offering, or perhaps he just was relating the conversation he had had with the hooker to him.  Either way, he has a great blog post if he so chooses. 

Oh, and by the way, Prudence, it’s not just men who are “obsessed with bosoms” you know.  Check out Sophia Loren, possessor of one of the all time great racks, checking out a worthy competitor of her era, the late Jayne Mansfield, in this famous picture!

The story of Prudence continues here.


  1. You are a DIRTY OLD MAN. Of course it takes one to know one. We even have meetings. Of course they are held at the strip club, but you

    1. hey, i want to be invited to the meetings!!!!

    2. MiB, I guess I have to cop to being a "Dirty Old Man", really. It was just really nice that a cute young lady like Prudence didn't call me "old." Although truth be told, she may have said "old" and I didn't hear it. Prudence, if you did say "old", please don't burst my bubble and tell me. Thanks.

    3. Oh, and grrouchie, the only problem with those meetings is that, as MiB noted, they are held at a Strip Club. Although there are lots of bare breasts on display there, almost all of them are "After Market", and not "Original Factory-installed Equipment" which I greatly prefer.

  2. Rob - it was a lot of fun to play with Prudence.
    Her presence at the table made it more enjoyable than the typical NL game that I find myself in just because she was willing to converse and have a fun time.

    Last time I was at my favorite spot and had 3 or 4 of us who were laughing and carrying on and having a great time, the other side of the table kept shooting us dirty looks because we were enjoying ourselves too much.
    Damned Poker Prudes
    "We want to win, not have fun, you will be assimilated"

    1. I actually have a post coming up about there being "too much fun" at a poker table, but it wasn't my kind of fun. That said, I really enjoy it when the No Limit table is as much fun as I used to find more regularly at the 2/4 game I used to frequent. And I posted on your blog about a great bit of "No Limit Cleavage" I faced the night after we had the session you referred to.

      If the guys are that uptight about people laughing and talking and having a good time, let them find a 2/5 or a 5/10 game to play at. Thankfully there's still room for fun at the 1/2.

    2. Definitely interested to read that upcoming post.

  3. Sorry, but I guess I walk a different path regarding women. I am equally obsessed with breasts, butts, legs, eyes, smiles, midriffs. Yes -- a regular testosterone factory, I am ...

    1. You know, Lightning, I want to make it clear that by posting this story, and using Prudence's quote against me as the title, I am NOT admitting to being obsessed with breasts. That is absurd. I am no more obsessed with breasts than anyone with a y-chromosone is. And yes, I admire all the wonderful physical attributes that the females of our species exhibit! Really. In fact in a future post I will talk about a couple of women who pointed out a woman's ass to me. And it was a very fine ass indeed.