Player's Stories

The Bleeding Lady
By Aaron Hendrix

Aaron, a PokerSchool member and creative writing teacher from Minnesota, contributes to PokerPages on a monthly basis. It should be noted that the following is a work of "creative fiction," and that the author is very comfortable with his masculinity!

I am the best poker player in the world. Only I know this, but soon that would change. I settled into my chair -- it wasn't the most comfortable one I'd ever been in, but I wasn't overly concerned about being comfortable. I felt calm, almost too calm. I knew I should be nervous, that the seven hundred others joining me probably were -- but I wasn't. I was twenty-one and queen of the world. No one could beat me back home in Mississippi so why would it be any different here? I'd watched the videos, studied the moves and plays, and seen the faces that would be challenging me. I was going to win the World Series of Poker.

The other faces at my table looked like department store mannequins, stoic and unflinching. A murmur ran through the room as the owner of the famed casino made her way to the front. My seat had come courtesy of a tournament I had won back home. I noticed the older man sitting to my left in Seat 8 appeared nervous. His blinds would be mine for sure I thought to myself. To my immediate right was a young Asian man, wearing thick black sunglasses, a single gold chain and a red Nike warmup suit with what looked like a black Malcolm X t-shirt. He was leaning back in his chair, doing his best to appear calm and collected. I wasn't buying it. My train of thought was interrupted by the owner of the casino booming over a bullhorn the words "Shuffle up and deal."

Our dealer was an older red headed woman with thick turqiose shell spectacles. She quickly mixed the cards and with a simple flick of the wrist dealt us each our two hole cards. The button had been determined and I would be second to act. The Asian kid glances at his cards and smiles -- a cocky, I'll show you smile -- and says "I raise" as he casually tosses 250 in chips into the center of the table. Instead of looking at my cards, I study the others reactions to see what they are thinking of doing. There is no doubt in my mind that the old guy to my left is folding, as he already has his cards in his left hand extended towards the center of the table. Seats 9 and 10 are poised to do the same. Seat 1, however, a feisty looking brunette is looking back and forth between myself and the Asian kid. The rest of the table seems disinterested, as if they are happy to just be there.

I finally take a look at my cards and see that I have the Ace of diamonds and the Jack of clubs. A lot of players would pop back the Asian kid here, or even flat call his opener, but not me, not here, not yet. I toss my cards towards the dealer and am quickly followed by the three players after me. From the way seat 1 had been studying the Asian kid, I was expecting a raise from her. And she did, making it 250 more to go. Everyone folds to the kid who looks at the brunette, laughs, and says "Let's rock and roll baby" as he pushes his entire stack into the middle.

"All in," he almost shouts. The brunette is staring him down now. I know he doesn't have anything, she knows he doesn't have anything, but she can't call him. She looks at her cards one more time, as if looking at them will change them. The room feels as if it is at a stand still, the other tables are all oblivious to us as we watch the confrontation. It's that intense. I love it -- this is what I came for. Seat 1 wakes us up by shocking us with a call. I hadn't expected that, and for that matter neither did anyone else.

Our table seems bewildered. First hand and we're already going to lose someone. The Asian turns over trash, the Ace of Clubs and the six of spades. The brunette smiles and turns over what is to her a beautiful pair of queens. The smile from her face vanishes when the dealer turns over an ugly ace of spades on the flop. The Asian laughs and taunts the brunetter, "Don't mess with X baby, he'll eat you up." No queen arrives to save the day and the brunette forces a smile to the test of us and quickly leaves.

Under the gun now, I quickly fold a pair of fours. The old man limps, leading to an onslaught of fellow limpers -- five to be exact by the time it gets to "X" in the big blind. "X" grins that cocky grin of his, repeats his "Let's rock and roll" mantra and pushes his stack all in. Fold. Fold. Fold. Fold. Fold. No one wants to risk their whole stack against the maniac and he takes down the small pot.

I post the big blind and not surprisingly everyone folds around to "X" in the small blind. I imagined that as long as "X" is around this table was going to be super tight -- I could use this to my advantage. "X" doesn't even look at his cards. He grabs 500 in chips and says "Blind raise, pretty baby." I look at him, no make that glare at him, and then nod my head as if I respect his move and flip the corner of my two cards up. I glance over at "X" and snidely say "Non blind raise, ugly baby." and add 500 to his initial raise.

"Oh, you gonna make me look" he says as he stoops down to peek at his cards. He pulls up and laughs. "Wrong time ta bluff me,' he says, yet again pushing his whole stack in. "All in."

I lean back in my chair and figure how nice it's going to be to have 20,000 in chips. He probably thinks I'm going to fold, but no I'm thinking about how I can get his other 10,000 chips after this hand is over. I don't smile like the brunette did, instead I look over at him and mutter "Well you probably have me beat but I have to call here." And with that, I pushed my chips into the middle beside his.

I don't think he expected my call, but he looks ecstatic that I did. He jumps out of his chair and flips his card over. "Don't mess with the X" he yells and then adds "Whatcha think you're doin?" The table oohs and aahs at his pair of kings. Calmly, I turn over my pair of aces and now the entire table stands up. I stay seated, I'm not going anywhere. "*&##@ $&##," X says. I almost want to fling a "Don't mess with Michelle baby" taunt at him, but I don't. The flop is beautiful -- another ace, a ten and a four, all different suits. He's drawing virtually dead and I'm going to double up. The turn is a Jack. The dealer pauses and I can hear X muttering "Queen. Gimme a $##& $**#@# queen!" The room stops moving. The dealer's hand is turning the card over. It's like a slow motion instant replay at the end of a football game. I see the brilliance of red, the stern face covered the flimsy plastic card as it hits the felt.

"Yea baby."

A queen.

I want to take my chair and smash it over his head, and then the dealers. I want to stand on top of the table and scream. But I don't. I feel a tear welling up in my eye. I grab my water, not looking at anyone, not wanting anyone to look at me but I know they are. I can feel their eyes. I can feel their pity. $&## them all, I don't need their damn pity. I'm the best poker player in the world. They just don't know it yet.