EPT
"Guys I'm tired as fuck I have to go home."
Those were the words I had exclaimed one hand earlier at 4 A.M. before I decided to raise up king-six of hearts on my last hand before I was going to go home on a slow night at the casino being up only two grand. Sadly I flopped the nuts against a lower flush and doubled up, winning a 9k pot. Ok, winning a huge pot is not "sad," thats just bragging....but I can't just hit and run like our white hero from my other article. I decided to stay atleast another hour for ettiquette reasons (plus the game was really bad, lots of $ to be made). But things just going my way. I won the biggest pot of my life with quad queens against nines full of queens (Q729Q board 21k pot) and I found myself with mountains of chips that I couldn't walk away from until 10 A.M. no matter how tired I thought I was.
Gloating aside, I arrived home at around 10:30 AM and passed out at 11:00. Usually after a long night at the casino I sleep longer but at 7:00 P.M. I was forced awake by the non-stop vibration of the "manner-mode" phone next to my head on the pillow. Yes the korean phones actually say Manner Mode when you hold the star button and put it on no-sound-vibrate mode. Two of my best friends were calling. Hurry up eat breakfast Rekrul...it's drinking time. Long story short we head out to a very nice night club in Seoul and have ourself a great night. I think I got a couple numbers, but who knows, maybe thats just my imagination. Around 7:00 the night club is closing and it's time to go home. Except I'm drunk and craving more alcohol, cigarettes, and GAMBLING.
*Ring Ring Ring*
"Yo Dan this is Joseph (my dealer friend from the casino) I'm going to go check out a new casino near our casino, wanna join?"
"Sure thing I'll be right there."
So we meet up and go to the new underground casino. This place happens to be like one minute walk from the casino I usually play at. These places are springing up everywhere. It looks just like all the other underground casinos in Seoul. Pretty wide open with 3-4 tables of no-limit texas holdem. Several types of people fill the chairs at these tables. Some guys look like bikers with their slicked back hair and leather jackets, some are fat nerdy student looking guys, some are suit wearing business-men by day - gamblers by night, and some are flat out dirty. Every person is incredibly unique but they all hold two things in common: they are korean and they smoke like chimneys. This place would honestly remind me of a warehouse, except the musky smoke cloud that hovers above the tables at all times actually makes you feel comfortable and at home. Well, except for the fact that you can't breathe. I'm the only white guy there and probably the only white person who had ever set foot in that place which got me some attention from the cute service girls and plenty of other people in the 5/10 no limit game. To my relief about half the people playing in that game were people I knew, so them knowing me immediately earned me atleast recognition from the other players I didn't know. I was in instantly...not just another run of the mill tight-ass-hit-n-running-canadian-mother-fucker.
Alas, the game was full. But to my delight a very nice frumpy fat korean man with this black glasses offered that my friend, I, him, and two other korean guys who were waiting for seats start up a new table. I tell the man in Korean "sure, why not, I love gambling, give me 1000$ worth of chips please!" as I hand him the cash. The five of us play for a good hour...I raise 80% of the hands and manage to irritate the hell out of everyone through my playstyle all the while controlling the game and joking around like a mother fucker with the jovial humpty-dumpty fat man who owned the place. Even though I was drinking beer I was playing against inferior opponents and I could feel it. I owned the table. Had I not taken two terrible beats I probably would have been up four grand...but unfortunately I had to rebuy 1k more and was sitting there with 1500$ worth of chips putting me 500$ down on the night. And then suddenly the doors opened....
I gaze over to my left as the sliding doors open and the korean Stevie Wonder and his entourage enter. Actually...I shouldn't call this guy Stevie Wonder...that would be giving him way too much credit, I only said that because he had huge ass face covering dark as fuck robo-cop mother fucking sunglasses on. Anyways, since when are 35 year old korean guys who walk with limps allowed to wear adidas jumpsuits with gold chains. You're not special buddy, even though you have two spiffy looking guys and three girls following you in, you still look like a degenerate gambling retard. I immediately don't like the guy just because of his cocky demeanor. But to my delight he buys into the game for two grand with his entire entourage watching him play and commenting on every hand he's in.
"WEH AH YOU FRUM?" He asks in a laughing manner many koreans use while talking broken english to a foreigner in the presence of their friends. I've gotten used to it but it used to insult the hell out of me. They ask you something in retarded english but they don't even look you in the eye and after saying it they giggle to their friends as if you're some zoo animal. I respond simply that I'm from America and then he tells me in Korean that he's a professional poker player and I should be careful of him. I respond simply again "Na Do" (which mean's "Me too") because I was pretty drunk and I probably would have slurred any other korean I tried to speak to complete hell. His lips slowly grazed over his teeth slowly forming a cocky smile that I did not give a shit about at all because I knew one simple fact: I was drunk and when I'm drunk I play damn good--he had no chance.
The scrub ass looking-entourage having-wish he had chest hair adidas jumpsuit wearing-korean man and I managed to clean everyone out in the next two hours. I went after him but he avoided me. In poker Koreans automatically believe white players that they have never played against before are the tightest mother fuckers alive. It's like a golden rule...white=tight (which is probably a safe assumption judging how crazy they usually play--if only they would adapt and react to these unfounded yet useful assumptions). I wanted to wipe this guy out but every time I had a hand he was folding and every time he had something I didn't even had a draw I could try to draw out on him with. We knocked out two short stack fish together and then the others that had joined the game either moved to the other lively table or just sat-out out of fear.
"Hey mannn....heads up go go?" He asks in a retarded korean-english accent.
"Sure!" -- you know me...I'm an opportunist...Or maybe I'm just an ego-maniac.
So we begin. I still have around 1500$ leaving me 500$ down and he has 3000$ infront of him. There were two older guys and the huge sunglasses guy's 5 friends watching. His three girls were pretty terrible looking...two of them were atleast 29 years old and had nice bodies and faces but were just ruined by terrible teeth...the other girl was pretty and young but she seemed every quiet and shy. His two guy friends seemed like nice guys, brought up some conversation with me asking about my experience with poker. Because I was quiet drunk I naturally told them that I was a professional player again and that if I lose all my money to this guy I won't give one shit and if he loses all his money I expect the same manner. They said that I'm a good guy and thats how it should be and we started play.
For some reason we kinda sat next to eachother on the table instead of facing eachother. He leaned back in his chair pretending to be pumping out the testosterone that he didn't have out of his spread legged sweatpants. Head cocked back, unlit cigarette in his mouth, he removed his robocop sunglasses revealing a rather kind set of eyes to my surprise. Nevertheless...he challenged me, he had all his friends watching, and he was cocky as hell. It was go time.
I'm going to spare you the all the drama I had in my last article with my "friend." Throughout this match I did not look him in the eyes once. Infact I did not even look at the guy. I just felt him. I was just playing the best real-life heads up I have ever played in my life. I never made a check or bet without thinking 10 seconds before moving. I always had chips in my hand and I played extremely aggressive. I just owned this guy. Every time I wanted a fold he'd think think think and then disgustedly muck his cards while putting out his cigarette. Every time I wanted a call I'd puff smoke in his face and he'd convince himself that I didn't really have that queen. Sorry buddy...I had that queen tonight. After only two hours of play he was down three thousand dollars to me and even his friends watching were in awe of my skill. Not that I'm a god or anything...but tonight..while drunk...against this guy...with the cards I got it would appear to anyone that I'm a fucking magician. Lucky me! I silenced another cocky retard.
He then says to me in korean: "Man you are a very very good player, well played but I don't want to play you anymore, nice match."
I say "thank you nice match," as he gets up from his chair in a humble fashion taking his remaining 600$ worth of chips that he didn't feel like losing and walks into some back room of the casino that I didn't even know existed. At this point I felt proud and bad. I did silence this guy but in the end he showed his true weakness after I embarassed him infront of his friends. Nothing worse to a Korean gambler than losing to a white guy who is playing you heads up drinking beer, whiskey, smoking cigarettes, and not once looking at you throughout the entire match with all your friends watching.
As I sit there counting my chips, the fat frumpy guy taps me on the shoulder.
"Yes?" I ask as he walks away towards the couches in the corner while motioning me with his finger and upper body to follow him.
"Where are you going?" I ask him in Korean as he halts his march.
"Come here come here come here," he says in Korean rapidly still motioning me to come.
What could this guy want? I had a bad feeling about this...my dealer friend had gone home to sleep long before my heads up match had even started. Luckily during my heads up match vs the Adidas advertisement I tipped the dealer 10$ every single hand I won and also a lot of the pots I lost just to rub it in on that Korean guy. My chips were safe alone on the table with this dealer -- he wasn't letting anyone steal my money. So my semi-drunk-retarded-ass gives in and goes over to the couch where we take a seat with a korean-canadian who can translate fluently for us.
The fat man remains jovial and the canadian translates his words telling me that "maybe the heads up match should have ended sooner, I should have stopped it, you are obviously way better than him....I think you should give him his money back."
I laugh while looking into the fat man's eyes and tell the canadian..."Is he serious? Does he not know the ettiquete of poker? I even told that guy beforehand not to be salty if he lost."
He translates and the fat old man just looks into my eyes. I stare right back without a wince and suddenly I could feel the fat man's demeanor and the overall atmosphere of the situation to go completely sour as if the musky cloud of smoke above us had floated down into our midst. I say again,
"This is fucking ridiculous...I'm going to go get my chips and you're going to give me my money. There is nothing to talk about and this is completely pathetic." I get up to go retrieve my chips but a short stocky older crazy danny devito looking korean mother fucker blocks my way.
"Uh Di Ga?" -- He asks me where I'm going as the dealer who made 500$ off me runs up with my chips racked up and hands them to me apologizing telling Danny Devito that it's okay. I take my chips and look at the mother fucker in a drunken fevor...not knowing what the hell is going on and at the same time not liking it at all. The fat man then signals me to come back to the couch, which I do for some stupid reason feeling relieved that I had the chips in my hand now. The canadian again translates
"He says again that you should give like atleast one thousand back to the dude...he didn't know you were a poker player and he is also a partner here."
My drunken self wanted to swing like crazy at this point. How could someone who owns a place like that ever consider trying to do that? I wanted to kill but I also wanted my 5 grand and I didn't want any trouble in this kind of place. A short fat man in these kinds of places can summon some huge killer kung fu mother fucker in these situations, and I didn't want that.
"What does that have to do with anything?" I say while pulling out my phone as panic and fear enter my chest. I sit there in dismay yet calmly as I make a call to some friends from the 10/20 game in my other casino who just so happened to be playing poker not only two minutes walk from there. Lucky me. It was already 1:00 PM by this time and I was so tired and hung-over and I hadn't even slept yet. I just wanted this to be over. The sound of their wanna-be-korean-wigger english "YO YO YO" english voices brought a calm to my racing heart. Nothing sets off an ex-rugby playing ex-mafia korean-canadian gangster ass mother fucker and his lunatic friends more than someone who betrays the ethics of poker. It's like this poker ettiquette is all they care about...it's their religion. I felt I could handle the situation...but you can never be sure...I was frightened and I needed a backup plan. "YO YO WHAT THE FUCK WE'LL BE RIGHT THERE" they exclaimed as the fat man gazed at me completely opposite to how he looked at me while we exchanged funny pots at the 5/10 game earlier.
"OK he's going to give you your cash just....you know...he's saying....you shouldn't ever come back here again," said canadian as the fat man and his henchman counted out the cash. They handed it to me and I looked at the fat man and told him he was completely unreasonable, and thats no way to run a business, and then walked out and left.
You know....my other stories had bad endings too...but so will this one. Needless to say my friends didn't get their blood. But at first after I left that place I didn't want them to get their blood either. The fat man and his shitty casino suck. He's an idiot and and he has to live with that. I raped his cocky partner so hard that I can proudly say being good at poker got me banned from a casino....
Too bad I forgot my jacket there and two of the 100$ bills they gave me were not real causing the ATM machine to eat my bank card. If I can't have my jacket, neither can they. I'm going to burn that mother fucking place down.
i think this story got worse and worse as i got tireder and tireder ...im drunk still...maybe i should sleep.
GN ADVICE IS WELCOME.
i'm so going to get shot or stabbed: [
