Straight No Chaser

Cards

i came out of texas hold'em sixteen dollars richer, but i still won't play strip, because my luck would probably change right away. and i knew this was the plan for tonight, but i didn't wear very much anyway, because we are running out of warm days, and each one is valuable. plus, the computer was calling my name, tugging at me like an oreck. and sean's computer is really nice. a nerd magnet.

and their conversation is not even interesting, hardly eavesdropworthy, because at sixteen minutes to midnight they are all pretty much trashed to the point of reticence. chris might be high, too. but whatever, from the barstool i can see almost everybody's cards. it's been a long time, but i remember being really excited when i realized that the four suits represent the supposed cornerstones of life. hearts, spades, diamonds, clubs: love, labor, wealth and war. still, that's the kind of information where, there's nothing you can really do with it. tell people, i guess, and feel smug that you know something they don't, but eh. i wish they'd finish this game, strip each other down and start pairing off, leaving four of us behind to play spades.

actually, there is one thing you can do with random useless information like the suit thing. i wrote marcus a poem, freshman year; there was a line in there that called him a king, one who "trumps all four suits." cheesy, very cheesy, and also untrue, now, because after pledging and the dallas trip, he has maxed out his semester budget. and he's not the warring type, but he stands up for what he believes in, and he works hard, and he is what the tom tom club would call a genius of love. so i was only kind of wrong.

arrington just lost her jeans. i hate the look of feminine thighs. she's making a mistake by even being here, because the guy she's dating this week doesn't like her male friends, and loves to hit things. arrington runs long in hearts, but always low numbers, because she has fantastically awful taste in men. a new asswipe every week. what's interesting is, she lost the jeans, but kept the tank top and hoodie. i'm no psychotherapist, but still.

chris, who is, yes, definitely high, is still fully clothed, marijuanically savanting his way through one win after another. long in clubs, very very low in spades. he only took two of his five midterms, this week. two he missed by oversleeping; the day of the last one, he was fighting with a cop who pulled him over for speeding on the way to school. i really like him, he makes funny jokes, but he's turning into a something-holic. a golden grainaholic, or something.

ashley is tight in diamonds. well, rhinestones. she moved all the way from california to atlanta, freshman year, because she couldn't figure out a way to live, broken up with sean. he's been with treesje for going on two years, now, and he's still the center of ashley's word. incidentally, ashley is deeply attached to all manner of bling, and sean is della reese's grandson--her only living heir. (i just realized, i could play, if i wanted. i've got studs in all five of my ear holes. that's kind of cheating, but then again, chris just removed a bandaid, as his "article of clothing.")

sean, the only other person here who has not been drinking, is losing profoundly. he is down to boxers, which is funny, because treesje isn't playing, just kind of hovering around looking jealous of the fact that six other people are basking in her boyfriend's nakedness. sean is the king of hearts (a remorseless cheater with too much confidence in his own sexuality), the queen of diamonds (materialistic in a womanish way; he has picked out four pairs of pants and a purse for me), the jack of spades (kind of a marcus apprentice, dedicated to his extracurricular responsibilites but pretty incompetent) and entirely without clubs (refuses to pick or even engage in a fight with his girlfriend, even when it's absolutely necessary). and pretty much naked. and evidently allergic to his chosen fabric softener.

i'm going to play a hand. (realtime pause to play a hand.)

back, minus a belt, which wasn't helping anyway. i won, twice, before i lost.

i'm equally heavy in hearts and in spades, since you asked. i love hard, and it ain't easy. even less so than pimpin'. since you asked.