Don't Tap the Glass

That was advice my husband gave me early on in my foray into poker. Like the time we were playing in Vegas at a $2-$4 limit table and 4 drunk college guys showed up. I got a little nervous: (1) because I'm not as aggressive as the Dr. and most men play more aggressively than me, and (2) they started pulling out wads of bills.

But then each of them only asks for $40 in chips . . . I almost giggled. DrChako smartly shushed me and we kept our commentary about their donkey play to ourselves. We had to share a few of their chips with some other guy at the table who had marginal skills, but we cleaned them out. It was fun.

So I'm playing a SNG last night (free, of course) - HORSE. Let a few people donk their way out, played pretty conservatively, and then we got down to the last four - bubble time. I was nearly tied for last with another guy, but the guy in second place suddenly starts jumping in on all the action and bleeding chips like nobody's business. Every hand. I'm sitting there in my house thinking "does someone need to tell this guy to just sit tight and let the two short-stacks battle it out?" But its not a chatty room, and I keep my mouth shut.

End result? He busts himself out, I keep quiet, and hold on for second place.

Like I said - don't tap the glass.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

PS: Waffles, thanks for the official invite. Your underwear commentary and the resulting responses are almost a mini-blog within my blog. And thanks, IT, for getting the word out that I was unsure of my invitation status - now I feel like the dork who had to invite herself. But now that I am OFFICIALLY invited, I may try to find a way to come. 'Cause I've accepted the fact that I'm a dork.