Poker with the Wookie
I started playing poker in high school. Back then, white chips were pennies, red chips nickels, and blue chips dimes. When I got to college, the stakes increased; my dormmates upgraded the chips to nickels, dimes, and quarters. We played five-card draw and seven-card stud. A very bad night might cost you four dollars, up from the two we thought was a big cut in high school. Then, in an effort to lose even more, we added wildcards. We played new, strange games. Then we added more wildcards. Suddenly, five-of-a-kind was beating a Royal Flush, and five-of-a-kind became common. Then our friend Stan got even more money-hungry and started, I think, to make stuff up.
In the game “Baseball,” you get nine cards. Threes and nines are wild. Threes are free, but if you get a nine dealt to you face-up, you have to put a quarter in the pot. If you get a four, you get an extra card. In “Screw your Neighbor,” you get only one card. You can keep your card or pass it. Everyone starts with three quarters and if you end up with the lowest card, you lose one of your quarters to the pot. The last person with any quarters left gets the pot.
These games came to us through Stan, who ate many Oreos while we played. Stan is big like Shaquille O’Neal and whenever I see Shaq, I think of Stan. Stan used to do this thing where he’d eat without using his hands. All fingers on the Nintendo controller, watching the TV out of the corner of his eye, he’d put his face down and eat Cheetos off of a napkin. Kind of like a donkey. Then he’d have computer problems, swear loudly, and re-format his hard drive. Every other week it seemed, Stan was swearing at his computer and re-formatting his hard drive. Then he’d kick something and eat more Oreos, looking like a big white Shaq all the while.
Stan usually sported sleeveless shirts or Tees but wore a suit the one time we took a road trip to Windsor, to the casino. He had this roulette system where he’d lay $50 in chips all over the board. Because of all the hedging, his wins would be small but steady. As far as systems go, Stan’s was pretty safe; he could lose it all only if the wheel came up zero or double-zero. The very first spin that night landed on zero. The second landed on double-zero. Two spins in, and Shaq-Stan in the ill-fitting three-piece suit was out of money. He glared at the roulette wheel and under the wary eye of casino security, the best part was watching him try not to kick something and yell “Bitch!” over and over again.
After Baseball and Screw Your Neighbor came “Drop.” When you lose in Drop, you have to match the pot — usually around five dollars. After Drop came Pai Gow Poker and after Pai Gow Poker came 357. Stan went to Vegas and came back with more and more games. High/Low. Texas Hold-’em. The Man. Bigger pots, more wildcards. I played 357 last week with Stan and my other roommate Ryan and Ryan’s brother Greg. Stan, on a healthy kick, ate carrots instead of Oreos and explained the game three times before I understood anything whatsoever.
“Ante is a quarter. Then you get three cards. Threes are wild.”
“Okay,” I said.
“We hold our cards up and count to three. On three, you keep your cards if you want to play. Otherwise, drop them. If you’re the only person to stay in, you get a ‘marker’ and three markers wins the pot. If more than one person stays in, nobody gets a marker. Those people compare cards to see who has the best hand. The person or people who don’t win, but who didn’t drop, have to pay the winner the amount in the pot, which can go as high as five bucks. Got it?”
“What happened to your Oreos?” I asked, and then Ryan’s dog started to bark at us.
There were always a lot of wildcards because wildcards equaled more money. We all knew a guy named Taylor who didn’t like our wildcard policies. One night, he laid out a Royal Flush and started to rake in the pot. Someone trumped him with five of a kind.
“Five of a kind?!? What the hell is that?” He held up a finger. “Hold on a minute. I’m going to get my gun, and then I’m going to come back here and kill all of you.”
I’d also mention that Taylor once wrote to the OSU newspaper to suggest that ads for gay bars be moved from the sports page to the “Arts” section. He’s also the only person I’ve ever known to leave a negative tip on his credit card slip at a restaurant.
Last week, Stan’s 357 instructions continued. “After paying the winner,” he said, “you get two more cards. Now, fives are wild. Threes aren’t wild anymore. You do the same thing — stay in or drop your cards on the count of three. Losers pay the winner the amount in the pot. Then you get two more cards. Now sevens are wild. Each time, losers pay the amount in the pot. Then, if nobody has three markers yet, re-deal and re-ante. Repeat.”
“The dog is barking,” I said.
We began to play. There was a lot of confusion and a lot of swearing and people kept pulling five-dollar bills out of their wallets and throwing them at one another. There was more swearing. Greg complained about having indigestion. Ryan’s dog continued to bark. Meanwhile, horrible music was playing in the background and this just added to my frustration.
“I hate this radio station,” I said.
“It’s booty-shakin’ music,” Stan countered.
I got off easy in the end. Playing games where you could easily lose ten dollars or more per hand, I ended up down only about five. Considering that we had just attended Dime-a-Dog night at Cooper Stadium and that my ten-hot-dog dinner had cost me only a dollar, I was actually sitting pretty. So I bade Ryan and Greg and Ben the dog and this new carrot-eating Stan adieu and drove home at about midnight, stopping off at Tim Horton’s for coffee and a donut.
I think Stan and Greg ended up with my money. The bastards.
I’ve got this picture of Stan. He’s shaving. So he says, it was the first time he’d ever shaved using a razor. He doesn’t look all that intimidating in this photo, but cops at a movie theater once converged on Stan, hissing into their walkie-talkies: “Get the guy with the bulging pockets!”
Stan threw up his arms as if this was all old hat. “It’s just snacks,” he explained. “Don’t be alarmed.”
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