It Meant More to Her Than it Did to Me

Ever notice those bad beats we take stick with us longer—and are more memorable—than the big hands we win?  Seems like it sometimes, anyway.

I was reminded of this during my previous visit to Vegas.  The second week of my visit, I was playing at BSC one evening and I recognized a woman who came to our table.  I remembered playing her with the week before, at the very table where this story took place.  In fact, this woman was actually a friend of Judy, the woman who accused me of liking boobs (can you imagine?).  Since I know her name and it would be awkward to keep calling her “that woman”, let’s call Judy’s friend Sally.

When she came to the table, we sorta nodded to each other, acknowledging that we had played together before.  Now, I remembered Sally being a friend of Judy’s, and I had a vague recollection of winning a decent pot from Sally. I thought I might have stacked her, but couldn’t remember for sure.  I knew that the story, if it was good, was in my notes, but I didn’t really have the story at my mental fingertips.  I figured I would check my notes back in my room to remind myself of what happened.

But I didn’t have to.  After she was there for a short time, she moved her seat to one farther from me.  As I noticed her moving, she said to me, with a smile on her face, “I wanted to get away from you.”

We hadn’t been in a hand together this evening yet, so I was sure that she was referring to the hand from last week that I barely remembered (and yes, wise guys, I had showered earlier that day).  So I said, “Oh yeah, I had a nice hand against you last week.”

And then she proceeded to recount every single detail from the hand.  Not just the hand, the whole evening.  She mentioned that she was sitting next to Judy.  She remembered the comment about the boobs.  And she described every street of the hand, how she busted out there, calling my all in bet on the river, and how she regretted it but she didn’t think she had a choice.  She just couldn’t get away from the hand.

And of course, once she started talking about the hand, I remembered.  I had pocket 5’s.   I think I called a raise preflop—possibly from her.  I flopped a boat—KK5.  Nice.  I called her bet on the flop, she called my turn bet, and then I shoved on the river, and she called.  She lost all her chips, something over $100 worth.  She did rebuy, but didn’t stay much longer after that.

Note, later that night, I checked my notes on the hand.  All I wrote was that I busted out Judy’s friend when I flopped a boat with pocket 5’s.  I did mention the paired Kings too.  That was it.  But she remembered everything.  She told me she had K/Q, that’s why she called. 

I’m sure I enjoyed that hand a lot, and it me have a profitable session.  But clearly, it meant more to her than it did to me.