Rude Bertha, Bad Card Charlie, and Me

I'm in Norman, Oklahoma for at least one more day. My plan is to drive to Albuquerque tomorrow. All things are open for discussion, however, so I won't make my final decision until tomorrow morning.

I made it the Riverwind just after 7 p.m. last night. In the poker room there was immediate seating available at the 3/6 limit, so I bought in for $80.

I knew things were going to be weird from the start. I took the 2-seat between a woman who had an “I’m losing all my rent money” look on her face and a guy who talked about every hand he had as if anyone would care. The woman was rude when I tried to squeeze into my seat. I had just enough room to sit down, stick one leg toward the table, and place my chip stack directly in front of me.

“Er, excuse me. I’m sorry for having to squeeze in here. I guess if I lost some weight it wouldn’t be so bad.” I was politely trying to communicate to the rude woman on my right. Shift your fat ass a few feet to the left so I can sit down.

She said nothing, and moved maybe six inches.

The guy on my right began to boil, folding a hand. “I can’t get any good cards,” he said while looking around the table, not bright enough to notice that everyone was ignoring him.

So I began my session between Rude Bertha and Bad Card Charlie ( the nicknames I quickly gave them). I sat there for a few hands and played nothing. After a while, the 4-seat opened when a fellow decided he couldn’t take the excitement any longer, loaded up his $120 or so and went to the cashier.

“I’m moving to seat 4 after the button,” I told the dealer. I took off my Maverick’s cap and placed it in the chair that was comfortably waiting for me in the 4-spot, where there was plenty of room; it was amazingly spacious. I’ll be able to sit with both legs under the table. Now I’ll have Rude Bertha on my right. Take that, Rude Bertha. See? I now have room to spread out just like you, you twit.

“I can’t believe that flop,” said Bad Card Charlie. “Man, I finally get a decent hand and it totally misses the flop!” No one cares. Get over it. This guy for some reason feels like he needs to comment on every action at the table. Put a sock in it!

I’ve been at the table maybe 5 minutes, have not played a hand, paid a big and small blind, and changed seats once. No action, no nothing. I was starting to believe this was a bad table. Already I was looking to change, but there was only one other 3/6 limit table available and it was full.

Three things happened almost simultaneously that told me I was threw with the table. First, two players decided to leave for a food or smoke break at the same time, shorting the table to 6 players (we were already short with only 8 players when I first sat down). Second, an obnoxious goon from a 1/2 no limit table decided he would share his poker prowess with us and sat down in a vacated seat. He immediately began to raise every hand and even straddled once. I don’t mind the aggression, but his arrogance and “I’m better than all you people” attitude was really annoying. I don’t like arrogance in any form, much less from a guy whom thinks he’s a “poker god” incarnate at night, and during the day is a mildly mannered mechanic at some garage in downtown Norman.

So far it’s not going my way. I’m sitting at a table that is shorted, and a maniac is trying to push players around with unfettered aggression and silly talk.

The third thing that happened, almost within seconds of the other two events, sent me to the cashier: an elderly woman brought her husband a cheeseburger and fries. I was sitting next to the man, his wife now suddenly standing behind me holding a Burger King sack. She appeared out of nowhere, stumbled behind my chair, stuffed the burger and fries on the food tray between me and her husband, and left in a cloud of dust. The old man began to eat like he’d been without food for months. Parts of the burger were hanging out of his mouth. He was handling chips with mustard on his hands. Not a pretty sight.

Here’s a suggestion: if you are so old you can’t eat a hamburger without food hanging from your mouth, try leaving the table for a meal break.

When I picked up my chips and left the table, I had played no hands, paid out two blinds, and was behind $8. It was the worst 15 minute session in my memory. (In fact, it’s the only 15 minute session in my memory.)

I walked out of the poker room with a feeling of resignation, knowing I made the right decision. The lesson is this: poker is more than just playing cards. It’s also playing a table. Some tables are going to be profitable and some are not. I am learning to discover, and quickly vacate, a table that will cost me money.

I visited the food court, drank some coffee, and decided to play Ultimate Texas Hold’em until later in the evening. I wanted the poker room to fill up with locals getting off work. They often won’t show up until 8 p.m. or later. Therefore, I was going to kill some time, revisit the poker room later on, and perhaps sit at a better table.

At the Ultimate Texas Hold’em table I quickly hit a run of good cards and won about six hands in a row. Before leaving, I had doubled my $80 buy-in and cashed out with $160. This was a great turn of events. Now I can return to the poker room and basically play on a free roll. I was willing to lose $40, if necessary, leaving me with a small $40 profit for the evening.

I sat at a much better table this time around: a full set of players and no one eating cheeseburgers. I congratulated myself on leaving a bad table and finally finding a good one. I played for an hour and was ahead by $23 before the table began to break up. With six players remaining, the nice woman in the 9 seat decided to leave and so I joined her.

I was happy to leave for the night with a $91 profit, after three hours of weirdness.

I’ve left out stories about the 7-foot, 300 pound monster at the Ultimate Texas Hold’em table I tried to avoid, the one-armed cowboy carrying his soft drink with his right nub, and the 400 pound man sitting in the food court wolfing down a double-meated sandwich of some kind. What is going on in this place tonight? There must be a circus in town!