The Joey Del Experience: Love Me Do

Posted at 17:16 2009-11-02
Last night I had the pleasure of driving 90 minutes out of the city to go to a house warming party. I use the term ‘pleasure’ very loosely. As I am sure some of you know however, when you have a girlfriend you don’t really get much of a say in your social life. I mean everything is meant to be organised fifty-fifty between my friends and her friends but women schedule things weeks, sometimes even months in advance. Guys will be lucky to have a plan organised for what they are doing later on that day. Because of this I basically just live out my girlfriends social calendar which is really saddening me as I write this. I am going to stop here for a moment to compose myself, but you read on. I will catch up later.
Despite the long drive, the house warming was a fun night. Everyone seemed to have a good time and there would have been nothing worthy of writing about if it wasn’t for one of the guys there. You know the kind of guy who, according to him, is awesome at everything. There is nothing he can’t do. There is nothing that he is not the best at. You find this type of person a lot in the poker world, as ours is a way of life that breeds ego maniacs. I have learnt to dismiss it in that environment, however when I see the same kind of thing happening when I am not around poker people it drives me insane. The best way to describe this guy I think would be to compare him to Shane from The Poker Star.
The conversation, as it always seems to, eventually turned to poker. This guy was telling me how good he was. How he loved playing and how he was going to go pro and make billions and billions of dollars. You know those conversations that you find yourself in sometimes where you are nodding and smiling at the person yet on the inside all you can think about is “Oh my God you are a freak!!!” He continued his self praise on his poker abilities for what seemed like about eight hours but in reality was probably only about ten minutes. My girlfriend came and rescued me. I have to give her some credit, this is something she has become very good at over the years, reading my face to see if I want to stab the person that I am stuck talking to in the eye with a pen. She comes over saying that she needs me for something and I get my escape route to leave. Without her, I fear one of these conversations would have become too much for me years ago and I would have either committed suicide or be living in a padded room wearing a straight jacket.
I used the break from this conversation to go to the fridge to grab another beer and I sat down on the couch to try and involve myself in the half of the party who were playing Wii. I noticed my ‘friend’ had moved on and found another victim whom he could torment with tales of his grandeur and awesomeness. He was once again talking about his poker prowess. Was there any chance that he wasn’t lying and he was actually as good at poker as he made himself out to be? A quick look at him told me that this was impossible. He wore designer jeans, a tight body fitting ‘industry’ t-shirt and his hair was very carefully spiked and crafted with the top of each spike a different colour to the bottom. There was no way this guy was a poker player. No poker players I know spend that much time trying to look pretty. I compared his clothes to what I was wearing. An old pair of jeans with the bottom of them all frayed as I never did get around to getting them taken up. A faded Italian soccer t-shirt which I had purchased at the start of the 2006 World Cup and my hair perfectly styled and crafted. Not by gel, wax or even a comb! As it is most days my hair still looked exactly like it did when I got out of bed with each clump going in completely different angles from the clump next to it. My level of grooming and flagrant disregard for current fashion trends was much more in tune to what your average poker player looks like.
Our ‘friend’ had talked his latest prey into playing a muck-around friendly heads-up game. He didn’t care about the money apparently, he just had to play poker and play it now. So they got their game underway. I was curious to watch the proceedings but I had to be careful. If they saw I was interested they might rope me into the game. I had no interest in playing with this clown whilst playing a friendly game, my plan was to wait until he opened his mouth and asked to play for some money. From my position I could not see much of the action but I could hear them call out their bet amounts and it took me all of three minutes to confirm that this guy made retarded people look like Rhodes Scholars.
Love Me Do: “I bet 100”
Other Guy: “I raise to 300”
Love Me Do: “I re-raise...100 more”
Hmm...You are going to raise 100 on top of his last raise of 200? I am pretty sure even your beginner playing for his first time on the PokerStars play money tables knows that you can’t do that. Your story of grandeur is wearing very thin, very quickly. I started licking my lips and I noticed that the guy who was running the party (who is a competent poker player himself) was also licking his lips. It appears that I was not the only person who had been studying our friend!
So my advice to you out there who like to embellish stories about your poker ability to impress people is this. Firstly, it doesn’t work so STOP! Secondly, if you are going to do this, please learn the basics first!
Have a great week!
- Joey Del


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Joey Del - looking to clean up on a poker table at a party near you! Joey Del - looking to clean up on a poker table at a party near you!

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