The Perfect Match

It’s Saturday night, and I find myself at Laird’s…
A smokey little poker joint for mid to high rollers.
I don’t know how I found this place.

The window blinds are casting horizontal shadows,
green ones; all across the room.
No one is saying anything.

The dealer passes each of us two cards
before placing the deck on the table.
I watch the others as they peek, looking for giveaways.

I take a look at my cards and have two aces,
one of diamonds and the other of spades.
I know I have the best hand.

About three people call blinds before getting to Joe;
a conservative player I’ve lost to here before.
He raises four times the pot indicating a strong hand.

Most people after him fold before the decision gets to me.
I raise twice his bet forcing the others out.
The call comes to Joe and he re-raises.

I am a little weary and think what could he have.
Ace King, I got it beat; King King, still have it beat,
but I want him to think he has the upper hand.

The flop falls King King Jack and the action is on my hand.
I raise $250 to see where I stand.
He re-raises $1250 and its back to me.

I sit there knowing that he has the fucking King.
I fucking can’t believe it but I still make the call.
The river turns a seven.

I check… ever so cautious… and wait.
Joe, my conservative nemesis pushes all in,
now I know he has the King.

But I have Aces,
and there is a chance he is bluffing.
I stall… trying to find my instinct.

I call going all in against my instinct.
I know he has the fucking King
and I am about to lose three month wages.

He turns his cards and has King King King Seven Seven,
I turn mine and have Ace Ace King King.
We both rise to our feet.

The dealer burns a card
places his hand on the river
and stalls……….

Devastated I stand and wait
hands up and around my face
the dealer finally turns an ace.

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The Perfect Match

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