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Maybe Just Two

One games turns into two. Two losses, that is.

Yesterday was a dedicated wifey Kim and Jordan day. When I got home, wifey Kim had dinner waiting. After dinner, she was flipping through the DVR and ended up watching a show I had already seen. Since I planned to spend the rest of the evening with my girl, I figured one SNG wouldn't hurt. I chose a $10 PLO8 SNG on FT. There isn't much worth mentioning. I eventually got most of my chips all-in along with four other players. I had the second nut low, but naturally someone had the nuts. It was really a god aweful play by me, but I have trouble discerning when I'm getting too cautious in PLO8 tournaments. In a cash game, I'm okay with being more cautious, but PLO tournaments tend to bring out a special breed of PLO donk. Apparently, myself included.

I spent the rest of the evening with wifey Kim until she fell asleep. I'm a late sleeper, so I opted for one more game. I remember thinking that I should probably hold true to my One Game rule, but since I had the time and the dough, what harm could one more game do. I opted for a $5 turbo MTT on Poker.com. Long-story-short, I lost in the middle of the pack after my JJ fell to AJ, crippling me. So goes poker.

I was emailing with DP this morning and he reminded me of a story involving some Xanax and an airplane. Its a pretty fun story, so I thought I would share it with you today.

Junior year of college, me and about 16 of my buddies went to Spring Break in Cancun, Mexico. After a week in sun and fun, I had finally accepted the fact that all good things must come to an end. Two of my buddies, though, didn't want to leave, and literally disappeared, just as we were waiting for our ride to the airport. All of this was stressing me out. My other buddy, Ryan, was one of the slicker guys in our crowd. He passed me some generic over-the-counter sleeping pills after I told him I needed to relax.

Everything worked out, and I found myself at the airport with 16 of my buddies and a slew of other people from my college. The cheapo pills did nothing for me, and I could see that I had hours to wait for our delayed flight. The place looked like a refugee camp, with people lying all over the airport.

Ryan had bumped into some of his friends at the airport and came over to me cupping something in his hand. He dropped it into my palm. "Xanax," he told me. "This will help you relax for the flight."

With nothing to do and nowhere to go, I figured I would pop the pill. I was never much of a pill-popper. I think most people my age have tried a couple of different pharmies. The kids two years younger have probably all tried many more. But Xanax was new to me. My depth of knowledge was relatively shallow. All I knew (or thought I knew) was that it was a painkiller. I expected that it would make me feel a bit lightheaded and relaxed, and I would have a smooth flight back to the US of A.

When I woke up, I was in my bed in Buffalo, NY. I was still wearing my clothing from the night and flight before. I remembered snippets of the evening. My buddy Shelly running around the airport; talking to pal Jefe during the flight before leaning my head against the seatback in front of me; petting a dog; lying on the floor. These things were really just blurs. Things I could vaguely remember, like flashcards from the night before.

Within my first 24 hours back in the US, my fraternity had a meeting. Before and after that meeting, I was able to recreate my trip back to the US, thanks to the testimony of friends and acquaintances.

Shelly: "Man, you and I almost had to stay in Mexico. While we were waiting for the flight inside the terminal, you were just zoned out listening to some strangers' boombox. When our flight was called, we got you over to the gate, but you couldn't find your ticket. I leaned you against a wall and ran back to the metal detector. I don't know how, but I found it there. The Mexican guys working the metal detector thought it was hysterical. I had to book all the way back to the gate with seconds to spare before they closed the door. If I didn't find that ticket, you would've been stranded in Mexico. You were in such bad shape, I knew I would've had to stay with you."

Me: "Really? What? Okay. Um, thanks Shell. I owe you one."

Later that evening...

Jefe: "You were so weird last night. What was going on with you on the flight?"

Me: "What? What are you talking about? I slept the whole flight!"

Jefe: "Not exactly, J. You were mumbling the whole time. You were leaning forward with your head plastered to the seat in front of you, just mumbling. When the flight attendant came by, we couldn't even
understand what drink you were trying to order. You were gone."

Me: "You've got to be kidding me?! I don't remember any of this. How did I get home?"

Jefe: "You don't remember the dog?"

Me: "I do, sorta. Why do I remember a dog?"

Jefe: "When we got back to Buffalo, there was a drug or bomb sniffing dog checking us all out as we got off of the plane. You kept on wanting to pet the doggy. We had to pull you away."

Me: "Really?" I could remember a German Shepard of sorts. "How did we get back to our apartment. It was my car?"

Jefe: "I drove. When we got to the luggage carousel, you really lost it. You just kept saying, 'GET ME HOME! WE ARE IN BUFFALO! I DON'T NEED MY SHORTS AND BATHING SUIT HERE! LEAVE THE LUGGAGE! You were lying flat on the floor with your arms out light a starfish."

Me: "Wha?" By then, it was all coming back to me.

Jefe: "We got you home and you just passed out in your bed."

And that, folks, was how I learned not to take unprescribed pharmaceuticals, especially during international travel. Now, I just need to find the time to tell the story of how I learned not to drink on international flights.

Until next time, make mine poker!


*****
This post sponsored by the fine folks at the GNUF poker room. *****

posted by Jordan @ 11:09 AM,

7 Comments:

At 12:24 PM, Blogger Instant Tragedy: Just Add Water said...

Wow...

You can't make that stuff up dot com!

Maybe the combination of the drugs were the edge? Or maybe you got slipped a micky finn.

Either way entertaining story.

Don't feel bad, was playing Razz last night had A23 showing and guy called me with KJ4 showing. I had 87 underneath and he called with A5 underneath ( had to be) he gets 4 5 to take a portion of my stack. I got most of it back when he called with KJKA showing.

Fricking donks.

 
At 12:30 PM, Blogger ckbluffer said...

AWESOME post.

I really needed a pick me up today!

 
At 12:38 PM, Blogger Grinder said...

LOL - now THAT is funny!

Here doggy doggy!

 
At 12:41 PM, Blogger DP said...

lol

 
At 2:22 PM, Blogger CC said...

Live blogging on your next international flight (pay-per view possibilities...)

 
At 4:13 PM, Blogger lj said...

lmao.

 
At 4:35 PM, Blogger KajaPoker said...

That was HIGH-larious. But one of the best parts of the post is how the Jordan and Wifey Kim evening turned into you playing online poker and her falling asleep in front of the TV. Ah, to be young and in love....

 

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