The Pink Shirt Bluff

Every now and then, you pick up a read on someone for no obvious reason.  Or at least I do, or did, on this night.  I didn’t have enough information to make the right decision, but my gut told me what to do, and for once, my gut was right.

I got into this game and was seated to the left of a reg I’ve played with many, many times.  We exchanged some pleasantries, but I immediately noticed the guy to the reg’s right in seat 2.  There was something about him.  Pink shirt, baseball cap (worn the proper way) and ear buds.  I guess it was the ear buds.  No hoodie, no sunglasses.  But he was youngish and he just looked like he should have been wearing the hoodie and the shades.  He was giving off a vibe….I just felt like he was going to be the kind of player who would try to make some moves.

In a hand the reg and I were both out of, a guy had flopped the nut straight on a board with 2 diamonds and never bet it.  He called a small bet on the flop, then on the turn, when the pot was about $50, he just called a $15 bet.  The river paired the board and no one bet it.  His straight was good.  He had the nuts on the flop and the turn and didn’t raise.  The reg and I were both shaking our heads in disbelief.  He said to me, “Do you ever sometimes wonder how you ever have a losing session?”  I laughed and said yes.  Then we traded a few bad beat stories to remind ourselves why we sometimes do have losing sessions.  He told me that the other day, he was this one bad player’s personal ATM, kept giving chips to the guy as he hit his one or two outers.  Then when his luck turned, he gave all the money away, but never back to the reg.

Very early, I limped in with 10-9 diamonds and turned a flush.  I won a small pot so that I had about $220 when the big hand happened.  I had Pink shirt covered by maybe $10.  On the button I had pocket Queens, but Pink shirt raised to $15 first.  I just called.  I had no real read on his game at that point, just the gut feeling.  A few orbits later, I likely would have three-bet there.  Two others called. 

The flop was Jack-high, two clubs (neither of my Queens was the club).  Pink shirt put out $25 and I just called.  I suppose I could have raised with my overpair, but that early in my session I was being cautious. It was now heads up. The turn was a blank and he bet $45.  I almost folded.  I was thinking he had Aces or Kings.  But my hand had showdown value so I called.

The river was the third club.  He shoved for $125.  I came pretty close to folding almost immediately.  But I caught myself.  I started paying attention to that vibe I’d picked up from him.  And did he really have a flush?  I thought it was unlikely.  But he wasn’t afraid that I had the flush (which, the way I had played it, I easily could have).  Hmm.

I thought long and hard.  I think I might have folded if the flush card hadn’t hit, as odd as that sounds.  It just felt like the flush card had given him the perfect opportunity to bluff.  With the insta-read I had picked up, I shrugged and said “call.”  He turned over King-Queen offsuit.  In other words, nothing.  My read was good this time.  I had a nice double up, after less than 15 minutes at the table.  I probably didn’t play the hand well on the earlier streets, but in the end, I may have clumsily played it the best way possible.  

Pink shirt rebought, but then soon moved to another table.  A little bit later I got pocket Queens again.  It had folded to me on the button so I only raised to $6.  The small blind called and the big blind, an aggro German who had recently come to that table, made it $20, and I called, as did the small blind.  The flop was King-Queen-x.  It was checked to me and I bet $40, they both folded.  That was my only set of the night.

The German’s friend was sitting next to me, and he kind of freaked me out a bit.  Like the German, he had a German accent.  Unlike the German, this guy was Asian.  Yeah, an Asian guy with a German accent.  I couldn’t tell if the Asian guy was Japanese or something else, but all I could think of was that I was sitting next to a human representation of World War II. 

From my experience, totally stereotyping here, the only ethnicity comparable with Asians in terms of aggressive poker play are Germans. This guy definitely lived up to that, very much the aggro.  But I only got into a couple of hands with him.

I got pocket Queens again and the Germasian next to me raised to $15.  Since he had just sat down and I was still trying to figure out if this guy was going to carpet bomb the poker room, I just called.  It was heads up.  He bet $20 on all three streets, my Queens were an over pair the whole way.  I called him down and he showed pocket Jacks.  He said, “I was hoping you had 10’s.”

Then he raised to $16 on the button, and in the small blind I finally saw the dreaded pocket Kings for the first time all night.  I made it $46 and he folded. 

That was the last hand of note.  I didn’t lose any big pots, just lost chips here and there in unmemorable hands.  I ended up winning $220.  Because I had a good read on the guy with the pink shirt. Note: The lady below doesn't look anything like the guy in the pink shirt.  They just have the pink shirt in common--although he was wearing a pink long-sleeve dress shirt, not low-cut like the top below (thank goodness).

Naked Geezers, Personal Questions & Hookers

This is going to be a hodgepodge post of a few little vignettes from my most recent Vegas trip, starting with a Sunday visit to Binion’s to play in the 2PM tournament.  But stay tuned for a special bonus at the end!

I arrived downtown and saw something bizarre and disgusting on Fremont Street.  There was an old man—in his late 60’s at least—naked.  Well, not quite naked.  He had a g-string, but that was it.  So he was bare-assed naked.  He was one of the street performers there hoping     to make money posing for pictures for tips.  Honestly.  But come on man, who wants to see that?  At least he wasn’t fat but still…..does anyone want to see a naked 70-year old man?  I should point out that there’s almost always some much younger, decent looking guys hanging out on Fremont in similar attire.  But at least in that case, I suppose there might be some ladies (or gay men) who would want to see that.  But a 70-year old?  Ugh.  I mean really, ugh.

Before the tournament started, I was talking to Audrey, full-time Binion’s dealer, part-time reader of this very blog.  I mentioned the disgusting sight I’d just witnessed outside.  “Who wants to see an old man naked?” I asked.  “No one,” was her reply.  That’s what I thought.

But we both agreed that this is Vegas, and you do see some strange, strange things, especially on Fremont St.  She asked me if I’d seen the topless nuns.  I confessed I had not   Apparently there are some women who walk around in nun’s habits but with breakaway tops so that they can flash their boobies to the tourists.  Of course, in order to prevent getting busted (sorry), they have to have pasties over the nipular area.   I said, “That’s sacrilegious!”   She agreed.

Then she told me that one time, she had seen one of the “nuns” waking from her car towards Fremont before starting “work.”  She said that the woman had not yet put her pasties on and was walking around downtown completely topless.  O.K.

By the way, I don’t want to embed it in my post here, because it might be too “adult” for this blog, but if you search YouTube for “Nuns Flashing Crowds at the Fremont Experience,” you should be able to see some video of the naughty nuns.  You know, if you like that sort of thing.

The tournament was terrible.  I managed to bust out before the first break, one of my quickest exits from a tournament ever.  Nothing particularly interesting about the way I busted out, either.  Got hands to play, and kept making second best hand.  When I was getting low on chips, I shoved over a raise with pocket Queens.  The raiser called me with Ace-King.  Of course he caught an Ace on the turn and I was done.

Before leaving, I had a chat with Paul, the TD over there, about the upcoming Binion’s Classic.  He was telling me about a few difficulties finalizing the schedule (which I need for my day job, of course).  Registration was still open and I recognized a woman walking in to buy in late.  Let’s just say that this lady has been mentioned a time or two on this very blog, but I don’t want to identify with even her blog name.  We said hi to each other and I wasn’t sure if she was entering for the first time or had busted and was re-entering.  So I said to her, “Are you just coming?”

She gave me this great look of fake indignation and said, “That’s a rather personal question!”

Paul and I looked at each other and, simultaneously, exclaimed, “Whoa!”

Busting early gave me enough time to go back to Mermaid’s—the favorite casino of blog reader angerisagift—and try the Deep Fried Oreos.  Last time I indulged, I only had the Deep Fried Twinkie.  So now it was time for the Oreos.  They were very good, delicious, really, but I have to confess I prefer the Twinkie.  If I ever indulge again, I’ll go with the Twinkie.

I played cash at BSC the rest of the day.

I had a decent session, at least.  I’d added about $100 to my $200 buy-in on a couple of hands.  One, I had a Jack-high flush that beat a10-high flush.  The other time, I had two-pair on a board with 3 cards to a straight and I almost folded to the river bet.  But I sniffed out the bluff and beat his low pair.

Then I was dealt the dreaded pocket Kings in early position.  I raised to $8, got a call, then a guy with a big stack—over $600 made it $25.  The guy hadn’t been overly aggressive since I’d gotten there, but he got that big stack somehow.  I was in the midst of a bad run of poker, plus the experience of busting out of the Binion’s tournament in less than two hours.  So I did something I don’t usually do with the dreaded hand.  I just flat called the three-bet.  Nitty, I know, but was a bit snake-bitten—and with the guy’s huge stack I didn’t want him to re-raise me and make me see his range as nothing but Ace-Ace.  The other guy called as well.

The flop was Jack-Jack-4.  The big stack bet $40. I assumed he didn’t have quads—he likely would have slow played it—but Ace-Jack was certainly a possibility.  Or Queens.  Or Aces.  I decided to call the $40, as did the other fellow.

The turn card was a beautiful King.  I checked, planning on check-raising.  But the other two players checked behind me.  Damn.

The river was a blank, and this time I had to bet.  The pot was nearly $200, what was the most I could bet to get some action?  I hoped $100 would get a call, but they both folded.  Could I have bet any less into a $200 pot?  I don’t see how.  I wonder if a pot-sized bet would have looked like a bluff and gotten a call?

Whatever, this was the most interesting hand of the session.  I eventually left with a $200 profit, my first win in a few sessions. 

I’ll conclude this oddball post with a few hooker encounters.  These encounters didn’t occur on the day I’ve been describing, to be honest.  But even combined, these quickie hooker interactions aren’t lengthy enough for an entire post, and I have to stick these hookers somewhere, don’t I?  So this post is as good as any.

Start with a Saturday, near the end of my trip.  I was roaming around the area I call “Hooker Central”—which is actually a great place to observe the prim and proper ladies going to and coming from the nightclub that attracts what I respectfully call The Slut Parade.  I was noticing a few such young ladies when I noticed a couple of black women talking to a young (late 20’s?) white guy.  I could tell from the body language that the guy didn’t know the women.  Perhaps he was asking for directions to the poker room?  I didn’t think so.  My spidey sense told me the ladies were for hire by the hour.  I didn’t get a real good look at their clothes but from a distance they appeared to be wearing the only-slightly slutty type of outfits that the typical Vegas working girl wears.  Before I could focus in on them, suddenly a blonde girl appeared, about the same age as the guy.  She grabbed his arm and yanked him away from the two apparent hookers.  She appeared to be yelling at the guy.  And they headed off towards the room elevators.  I got momentarily distracted by a gaggle of club-goers showing a whole lot of skin, and when I looked back, the two ladies had disappeared and I never saw them again—that night, anyway.

A bet later I was walking by the bar, which is somewhat enclosed.  I assume that hookers work out of this bar, but for sure I’ve seen the ones who work the slot area go in there to get a drink—or take potential customers in there for a drink (and a negotiation?).  I happened to notice a very classy looking young woman sitting right up against the short wall that enclosed the bar.  She didn’t strike me as a hooker at all, she seemed more like a business woman.  I honestly didn’t get a chance to assess her outfit, other than it wasn’t in the slightest bit revealing.  She had short, dark hair that was perfectly coiffed.  She was alone and talking on her cell phone.

So I was totally surprised when, as I walked by her, she looked at me and said, “Where are you going?”  OK, I was caught off guard and somehow, I managed to say, “Oh, I think I’m just going back to my room.”  She responded, “Do you want some company?”  Umm, umm…I said, “I don’t think so.”  And to my complete amazement, she said, “Oh, well have a good night.”

Really?  In all the times I’ve been hit on by hookers, I’ve never, ever come across one that gave up so easily.  I would have bet the farm that she would have followed up with a “Are you sure?” or some such.  Some kind of follow up to be sure I wasn’t interested in buying what she was selling.  But nope, that was it. The total soft-sell.  If this story had been the main thrust of this blog post, I would have called it, “The Hooker Who Took No For an Answer.”

The next night, I was in the same area and wouldn’t you know, I saw the same two black ladies strolling around, trying to talk to guys as they passed by.  At least I think it was the same two ladies.  About 90% sure.  They were similarly dressed, and they were about the same size as I recalled (a bit overweight to my eye).  And when the traffic died down for a second and they noticed me, they wasted no time in heading my way.

Only one of them spoke.  I was sitting in front of a slot machine.  “Who are you waiting for?”  I said, “Oh, no one, I’m just relaxing.”  She replied, “Well, do you want to relax with us and have some fun?”  I said “I don’t think so.”

This girl didn’t give up so easily.  “Oh come.  Have some fun.  Two naked girls.  Tits in your face…..”  OK, I had to say the one thing that I knew would make them lose interest.  “No, really.  I don’t have any money.”

She said, “You don’t have money?  What are you doing in Vegas without any money?”  I said, “I lost it all gambling.”  Fortunately, that was not true.

And she replied, “Well get a cash advance.”  I have to admit, that was a new one.  Never heard that before.  I don’t know this for certain, but it is my understanding that cash advances in Vegas are pretty expensive.  Probably would have added quite a bit to the cost of the fun and the tits in my face.  If I had been thinking better, I might have asked her something like, “Well, how much would I need the cash advance for?” but sadly, I didn’t think of that.  I just said that I wasn’t interested in doing that and said “OK, have a nice evening,” and they left.  

SPECIAL ADDED BONUS:  The music video below was recently called to my attention by several readers--thanks. It's called "Vegas Girl Walk" and although it doesn't actually say it, this is really a celebration of The Slut Parade.  In fact, it is obvious that most of it was filmed at the MGM, the home of the original Slut Parade.  Check it out for a taste of the Slut Parade. Enjoy!

Roller Coaster Ride in Ventura

For the third straight Saturday, I returned to the Player’s Casino in Ventura for some of that pokerz.  This was one heck of a wild, swingy, roller-coaster session.  The first two times I played there, the games were relatively calm, more like a typical Vegas 1/2 game than the looser games I frequently encounter at The Bike.  But this one was a whole ‘nother animal.

I arrived early afternoon and the list for the 2/3 game was quite long.  Note: one of the few things I don’t like about this room is that they don’t take “call-ins.”  You can’t get on the list until you show up there in the flesh. So I had to no choice but to wait.  I decided not to get into a 1/2 game while waiting, I just didn’t want to bother moving over, coloring up my chips, and changing my game mindset.  I figured the list would go pretty fast.  That was the longest list, and I heard the guy at the podium say that as soon as another tournament table broke they would open a new 2/3 game.  In fact, they were calling players to the 2/3 game at a fairly good clip.

While waiting, I did some exploring around and realized that my initial report on this room (see here) was a bit off.  The “back room” that has the bar and the table games is actually a bit bigger than I thought, and they actually have three more poker tables back there.  In fact, that’s where I saw the tournament clock.  But they can’t possibly confine the tournament to just those three tables.  I noticed that tournament had had 61 players (down to 23 now), so they must use some of the tables in the front room to start it off.

Anyway, I wasn’t there long—no more than 15 minutes, probably less—when they announced a new game of 2/3 and called my name.  Not bad at all.

Now typically, when a new game starts, everyone tends to start off a bit tight.  It’s not unusual to see the blinds chopped a few times the first couple of orbits.  And to see a single raise take down the blinds more often than not.  At least that’s been my experience.  Everyone seems to want to get a feel for the action and the players before gambling it up.

Not this table.  No sir.  The very first hand, it was three all-ins on the turn.  The guy who initially shoved had raised preflop with Ace-King off.  When he shoved, the board had a king on it but also three to a straight and three to a flush.  He was called by a straight and a medium-sized flush.

Throughout the day, there were usually two or three straddles per orbit, sometimes more.  Preflop raises weren’t usually out of line but there was almost always at least three players seeing the flop. Limped pots were probably less 25% (less if you count straddled pots that weren’t raised).  Players kept coming and going.  Most of the players left went to bigger games, though a few busted out and left.  But the action never calmed down, no matter who they sent over to fill our table.  It was if they were purposely sending only maniacs to us.  As I said, this wasn’t at all my experience my first two times I’d played here.

Early on, I saw something unusual that I don’t think I’d ever seen before, at least quite like this.  A guy shoved the turn on a board that had Ace-4-4-x.  The other guy—who had raised preflop— snapped called.  The first guy said, “Oh, don’t tell me you have pocket Aces?”  No, he showed his hand, it was Ace-Jack.  The guy shoving showed his hand, he had a 4-3 suited.  He was relieved.  The guy with Ace-Jack was dismayed.  And then another Ace hit the river.

The dealer asked the guy with Ace-Jack to push his stack forward so he could count his chips to see if had the other guy covered.  The two stacks were very similar in size.  While the dealer was counting, the player with Ace-Jack got up and left the table without saying a word.  Meanwhile, the dealer determined that he didn’t have the other guy quite covered and left the 4-3 guy with a few chips and pushed the rest of them to the seat where Ace-Jack guy had been.  But the winner was nowhere to be seen.  The guy who lost was digging into his pocket to get money for more chips, and then he asked, “Did he think he lost?”  We all started speculating, and someone said they saw him go out the front door.  Now maybe it was to smoke, but it was an odd time to go on an “emergency cigarette break.”  We decided that the guy must have thought he had lost the pot, and his buy-in, and was en route to his car to leave the vicinity!

The dealer tried to flag down a floorperson but to no avail.  So one of the players got up and rushed out to try to find the guy in the parking lot.  Fortunately the bolting player was an older gentleman and didn’t more too fast--fact, he had mentioned that he was planning to play in the WSOP's first "Super Seniors", which is open to players 65 and older. A few minutes later the guy who chased after the winning player came back in, followed by the guy who had actually won the pot.  He started stacking his chips and apologized to us.  “I’m sorry, I thought he boated up on me.”  Well yes, he had, but you boated up bigger.  Before the guy came back, the dealer made a joke about the stack (well over $300) being a “splash pot.”  But honestly, I wonder what would have happened if the guy hadn’t been caught in time?

Things got off to pretty good start for me. While everyone else was putting all their chips in the center every other hand, I was trying to figure out if I could tell the difference between the games of one maniac from another.  Then I found myself looking at King-10 of diamonds in middle position.  Because I’m a donkey—or it could be because in Ed Miller’s new book this is one of the hands you open with in any position—I raised to $15 after one player had limped in.  Three of us saw the flop, including the big blind.  He had a huge stack.  He was the guy who had one the very first pot with the medium flush described earlier.  I guess I was down to about $290-$295 or so from my $300 buy-in, I don’t think I’d put in anything other than the blinds.  The game was less than 20 minutes old.

The flop was Queen-9-3, two diamonds.  Before I could c-bet, the big blind donked out $35. I called and we were heads up.  The turn was the marvelous Ace of diamonds, giving me the stone cold nuts.  The third diamond didn’t faze the Big Blind at all.  He put out a bet for $85.  Nice.

I thought about my action for some time.  I didn’t want to just call.  But with my remaining stack, I couldn’t see how I could raise anything less than a shove.  Even a min raise would have been significantly more than half my stack.  So after a bit, I just announced “all-in.” 

He snap called and announced, “I have two pair,” and showed Ace-Queen.  Wow, that turn card was even more perfect than I imagined.  I showed my flush and the river bricked.  It was a sweet pot.

I counted my stack after it was all nice and neat and I had exactly $593 in front of me.

I won another hand, this time with pocket Jacks.  It was straddled and I raised to $15 first in.  Only the straddle called, and I c-bet $25 on a King-high flop.  He folded.

It was way too early to call it a day and book the win, although I can’t say the thought didn’t cross my mind once or twice.

And then I looked down at pocket Aces on the button.  One was black, the other was a diamond.  Again, it was straddled, so the player first to act made it $20. It folded to the guy directly to my right, who called.  Both of these guys had smallish stacks, a bit less than $150.  I had noticed that guy who called never seemed to fold his hand preflop to a raise.  I guess he did, but if he limped in, he called a raise for sure.  This time he hadn’t limped in, he just cold called the $20.

I thought for a bit and made it $90.  The blinds and the straddler hadn’t been heard from, and they had bigger stacks (not as big as mine) and the way this table was running, it wasn’t unlikely to think that they might still have been interested.  But it folded back to the guy who made it $20 and he tanked, and finally decided to call.  While he was tanking, he heard his name called for a bigger game.

The next guy wasted little time in announcing “all-in.”  What the heck could he have had?  He cold called $20 then shoved?

I couldn’t raise so I just called.  But the original raiser put all his chips in.  Now that I am thinking about it, he shouldn’t have been allowed to do that.  He had $148 to start.  The guy who first shoved had $143, which is what I called.  The raise from $90 to $143 wasn’t enough to reopen the raising.  He should have only been allowed to call.  Not that it made a bit of difference, of course, he and I would have gotten it all in on the flop. Anyway, there was a tiny side pot.

No one showed.  There was a King on the flop, and a 10.  And two hearts.  Another heart on the turn.  And a fourth one on the river.  You see where this is going.  The guy to my immediate right, on the flop, had said, “I’m looking good.”  Then, when the fourth heart hit, he said, “I guess not.”  He turned over King-10 offsuit.  I wonder if Ed Miller would think that was a good hand to shove with against a raise and a re-raise?  But neither of his cards was a heart.

The guy who first raised to $20 had two 6’s.  And yes, one of them was a heart.  He took the whole pot, and moved to his bigger game.  The other guy rebought, and then, sometime later, moved to a bigger game.  I guess in those bigger games they shove with pocket 6’s and K-10 offsuit, huh?

Well, that hurt, but I still had some profit in front of me…..well half of what I had before.

But not for long.  I had pocket Queens, again it was straddled and there was already a caller or two.  I made it $20.  Only the guy with K-10 on the last hand called.  The flop was 9-8-3, rainbow.  He donked out $40.  Grr…  He had about $140 left.  I could shove.  I could fold.  But I just called.  I think I was still a little staggered from the Aces hand, which is why I didn’t want to play for the rest of his stack, even with my overpair.  A King hit the turn.  He immediately shoved for his $140.  I tanked and then folded.  I think it was very possibly a bad fold.

I got Aces again, another straddled pot.  A bunch of folks had called the $6 straddle, so I made it $25.  No one called this time.

Pocket Queens again, this time on the button.  Another straddled pot.  I put out $20.  Only one player called.  Now this guy was actually the tightest guy at the table.  Not long before, I realized that this guy had been at the table since it opened and I couldn’t remember him doing anything.  I was sure he had played a few hands but he was folding as much as I was, never straddled, and didn’t call a lot of raises.  I didn’t recall him making any raises either. 

The flop was 9-8-7, rainbow.  He checked.  I bet $40.  He called without hesitation.  The turn was an Ace, and he checked.  I checked behind.  There was another Ace on the river.  This time he bet $70.  I tanked.  I think if the same line had been taken by any other player at the table, I would have called.  But this guy had been so tight, I thought folding was the right play.

I may have been wrong about that.  A bit later, I saw him call off his entire stack—nearly $200, with top pair, top kicker (Ace-Jack).  The board had a pair on it and the other guy had a boat.  So that made me think he might have been stealing against me, despite my observation about his tight play.  In his defense, the player he called it off against was quite the aggro and it might not have been such a bad call.

Anyway, I was down to just a bit over $300, so just a little bit over my initial buy-in.  That big stack I had when I caught the nut flush against 2 pair was a far away memory.

Then, in the small blind, I had pocket 7’s.  There was no straddle and no raise.  I competed for a buck.  The big blind checked behind.  Four of us saw a flop of Queen-7-4, rainbow.  There were no good draws, but the pot was too small to slow play, so I put out $10.  A guy with a huge stack called.  Then a guy with a small stack ($100ish?) made it $40.  The other player folded.

Should I have just called there?  Maybe, but the kind of table this was, I figured I could get action even with a raise—the short stack would for sure call my raise—and I figured I should get the money in while I was almost certainly ahead. 

I made it $120.

The big stack wasted almost no time in announcing all-in.  Now, this guy had been at the table since it opened.  He had been felted in the first 10 minutes with the dreaded pocket Kings.  He flopped a set and lost to a rivered straight.  You mean that doesn’t just happen to me?  But he rebought and got his huge stack mostly from a three-way all-in awhile later (I don’t remember the hand).  He now had over $1K in front of him.

The short stack very resignedly put the rest of his chips in.  He must have known he was beat but for the amount he had left, he couldn’t fold.

Of course I called.  I couldn’t imagine the big stack limping in with pocket Queens, the only hand that was ahead of me.  And if I could have imagined it, I would have assumed it was just my imagination and called anyway.

No one showed.  The last two cards were bricks.  I showed my set of 7’s and the big stack said, “I knew it.  I knew it when you raised.”  He showed pocket 4’s.  Those set-over-sets are so nice when you’re on the right end of them, aren’t they?  The short stack mucked and left the game.  I have to assume he had a Queen.

When I finished counting I had exactly $700 (after tipping the dealer).  That was a really, really nice pot. 

I stayed another 45-minutes or so, but didn’t have another memorable hand.  I lost some money with blinds, calling a raise or two with pocket pairs and whiffing, and the like.  I think I raised once with Jack-9 clubs and missed the flop completely, and didn’t c-bet against five callers.  I also think I raised once with big cards and took down a pot with a c-bet.

So when I was ready to call it a day, I was down to $650, a $350 profit.  Not bad for such a wild game.  I could have stayed 10 more minutes and lost it all, or possibly tripled it up.  But I was ready to get off the roller coaster and head home.