poker is so odd. there i was staring my opponent down, i had a 25$ chip on the table and he was contemplating calling my Q6d bluff. i completely missed the flop. fold. fold fold, i was thinking. my heart was beating in my throat - which reminded me of when i was in cuzco and i had altitude sickness. oh the pain. then i realized. it's not 25$. it's 25soles. or 4$ and change. eff it. i don't care if he calls. frick, i prolly lost (or gained) that much in the stock market today and i don't even know!
but somehow, for some reason, emotion trumps reason. i care. i don't care that it's 4$ or 25soles. it's ego. it's IQ points. if he wins, he's either luckier than me or smarter than me. or worse, he's both. if he wins, everyone at the table, including dad, thinks he's better than me - at least for the moment.
he folds.
i try not to crack a smile. i act as if i knew it all a long and methodically collect my chips. "thanks a-hole! better luck next time!" that's what the upturned corners of my mouth tell him.
