It’s been a full 14 months since I wrote the following:
I didn’t peel my cards off the table again, preferring instead to eat her face with my eyes. Her cheeks pulled in as she drew in on the cigar. She pulled her cards off the felt one more time. I couldn’t read her as well as I wanted. Remember, her beauty put me on tilt the moment she’d climbed out of the H2-Hummer. When she lit the cigar and bathed the table in a sbobet sexual wash of smoke and casual good humor, I decided there was no way I could play the game of poker ever again.
Since that time, the Cigar Girl has become a familar face and friend. We’ve played against each other several times, and her husband, now known as The Mark, has warned me more than once to not ever again consider eating his wife’s face.
Tonight, the subject of that game long ago came up again during a $40 buy-in single table freeze-out. And wouldn’t you know it, Cigar Girl went to the freezer and brought back a popsicle.
I don’t think it was intentional, but I’m not sure. For some reason, I’ve become a bit of a target at The Mark. And for some reason, I think Cigar Popsicle Girl knew she could put me on tilt.
When she hit the table with the striped, frozen phallic symbol, I couldn’t help but comment on my inability to watch a girl eat a popsicle. I folded my big blind to a raise and tried to concentrate on how nice the new table The Mark was.
When my small blind came up, Popsicle Girl and a few others limped in. I looked down to find AK suited in clubs. I put out a bet that was around the size of the pot. Popsicle Girl was taking her own sweet time, her concentration focused on the frozen goodness in her hands.
I callled her by name and, in my best table captain voice, tried to sound commanding.
“If you keep focusing on the popsicle, …Read More