I am still having fun. After going down *again* (and not in the good way... Sorry; had to), I am back up within 24 hours. This never fails to amaze me. Meg took a dive today also, but she rebounds faster than I do because (1) she's better than I, and (2) she's playing at much higher tables.
The nemesis I mentioned earlier is a 'friend' of this other person that I find hugely annoying. Or did, prior to tonight. Well, I still do find him annoying, but...he has some good points. Some. As in a couple. Like maybe two. Maybe. His blogname is going to be Mr Papagiorgio, and he is an obnoxious ass. He has a WSOP bracelet (how is anyone's guess), and he plays like a raging fucktard. I first bumped into Papagiorgio a few trips back in Tunica, where I had to play him in a satellite (back when I was still doing satellites). *He* was first off the table; I was sixth or seventh off. That alone should tell a lot about how Papagiorgio plays, 'cos wish as I might, I just am not that great. Mr Papagiorgio will come and sit at a table (any table from 2/4 limit on up; it doesn't matter), and start going in on everything. Raising, raising, raising--anything, everything--it doesn't matter; Papagiorgio is a table disruptor extraordinaire. That may play on some tables, but on the lower tables (especially limit tables), it doesn't--at least not for long. For example, Papagiorgio already plopped down at a 2/4, scared the shit out of the players at first then went broke (on his buy-in, not totally), and left just the other night. I know because one of the players raced to tell me as soon as she saw me come into the poker area that she had won money off a WSOP bracelet-holder. Sigh. Me too, Sweetness--and probably half of Nevada, California, and Mississippi. No, I didn't say that; I just let her bask and gush a lot. :-)
Butsoanyway.
Friend of Papagiorgio, whom I will call The Lifeguard, disrupted the hell out of my table last night and cost me money. I only found him mildly annoying before; now I classify him as another raging fucktard. If you cost me money and it's not because you have outplayed me, you are a raging fucktard. It's really that simple. I had backed back down to a lower game (despite Meg's advice), and Lifeguard was doing everything humanly possible to piss me off--raising blind, straddling, you name it. He was getting irritated at the rest of us because none of us were straddling, and I finally told him that *I* don't straddle, to which he protested that he cannot do it every hand (thereby implying that some of us then should). I told him that he must not know much about the game, 'cos it's possible to straddle *every* hand, and why doesn't he do just that?
It actually isn't possible to straddle every hand, but I was leading towards a point, so allow me the misrepresentation for a moment.
Lifeguard snorted at me (just as I had planned) and told me that it was clear that *I* knew little about the game, as he was a dealer (I didn't know that, but that only better laid my trap), and one may only straddle in front of BB. I just smiled and told him that, although it isn't *called* 'straddling', the exact same effect can be achieved if he would not look at his cards on ANY hand and just put in twice the BB, so why does he not just do that instead? Lifeguard looked at me as if I were insane, and said that to do so would be beyond stupid. I gave Lifeguard my hardest, coldest stare; 'so's straddling,' I said, and turned away from him.
Well, *someone* had to take him down, at least verbally--he should not try to push the other players into a situation they don't want to be in, and I hate bullies. I still lost money on him because I am a moron, and tried to take him out...which I could not do. Eh. Pfft. So I left.
Today I was hoping that he wasn't coming to my table again, and--thank goodness--he didn't. He ended up at Meg's table, and though Meg made no money off him, others did, and bully for them. Asshat.
Butsoanyway.
When I came downstairs this morning, I was greeted by a happy, bouncy Drang. Drang was here for a Newage-y convention (from Newage...rhymes with 'sewage'), and did acceptably at a few tables...so he told his ride back to Denver to go on without him 'cos he decided to stay for the rest of the tournament, and maybe just follow the Tour around--you know, living the Poker Pro lifestyle?
Oh, for god's sake.
Later on in the day, I ran into Drang again--he'd already lost half his bankroll, and was feeling depressed. He had no place to stay, wasn't looking forward to sleeping in the fleabag $25/night place his friend told him about, but didn't want to spend the money he had left towards staying here at the Hilton. I offered to talk to the Poker Room Manager on his behalf (we've been getting on well with each other all week--Meg's even up to teasing me that he 'likes' me because he keeps giving me all kinds of things, including higher comps than he is giving others, though it's in fun only--the man is married; I think he just thinks I am a nice person...which I am. Usually.) and see if we could sneak him into a way-late poker rate on the room, but Drang declined 'cos it would still be higher than his $25/night place. I tried reasoning with him that it might even come down to an issue of safety, but Drang couldn't be budged. We talked for a while, and it turns out that Drang is actually homeless, having been kicked out of his girlfriend's apartment after they broke up and she moved away, and unemployed--so his poker money is actually all that he has, and he has no where to go really. He has friends back in Denver with whom he could stay, but he *wants* to be a poker superstar.
Oh, fuck. It just keeps getting better and better.
I wanted to do something, but giving someone like that money is a BAD idea; they'll probably not spend it where you could see, but he would run off and blow it in the poker room at Peppermill or something, figuring that he was on the verge of building a poker empire. So giving him money was out. O-U-T out. Drang ran off to try to rebuild his empire, and I took Meg to dinner just as she was pulling in a pot that was over six times my farking car payment...and that was one of their lower ones. I don't have the stomach for that kind of thing; I don't know how she does it. She and I don't really discuss how she does (just like asking someone's name, it's bad form to discuss earnings; if someone *offers*, then fine--but one does not come out and ask. Some people are fine with it, but others are not; if I want to know someone's name, I err on the side of caution and give them mine first; if they reciprocate, then great--if they don't, then I drop it. Similarly with earnings--if I want to know how Meg--or anyone else--did that night, I have to start off with my own information, and sometimes I am just too damn embarrassed to do so. :-) Someone else's milage may vary, but as for me, I have found this to be true and unoffensive in every situation in which I have been thus far), but I can generally tell by her level of grumpiness how she's doing; so far this trip, she's mostly been higher than a fricking kite.
Unlike myself, might I add.
Butsoanyway.
Over dinner, I related The Tale Of Drang to Meg. Her most insightful comment was 'jesus fucking christ--PLEASE tell him not to play at my table, so that I don't have to worry about what he's going to eat tonight'.
Christ. Sure. I'll tell him.
After dinner, I was back waiting for a table for about an hour (Meg had just taken a meal break, whereas I'd left 'cos I always schmooze and talk way longer than my meal break would allow), and Drang wandered over again. Mr Papagiorgio'd taken him to dinner, and had a talk with him.
Oh crap, I thought. Does the fact that I think little of Mr Papgiorgio show much?
Butsoanyway.
Mr Papgiorgio, as much as it pains me to admit it, had showm some heart, though. He suggested that Drang go back to Denver, get up a bankroll, and try again on some other part of the tour. Drang--considering that he was down to almost nothing at that point--had decided that this was a good idea. Thank god. So he is planning to play some more tomorrow to have money to travel with, and hitching back to Denver.
Yeah, I said HITCHING BACK TO DENVER.
Oh, fuck.
So I think that I am going to offer to buy a bus ticket for him. We'll see how that goes. For now, I have to get some sleep because I have decided to try a tournament event tomorrow. Sigh. Argh. Pfft. Bwaah.
Well, I need the damn money. :-) I have to try to take some obnoxious people out, and I need the cash behind me to do it.
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