19 December 2010

one for the money

On Friday, we sat around in the living room throwing dice. Every roll, it seemed, there were new rules. "No, you don't get those points, because blah blah blah," "No, not those points, either," but somehow the explainers weren't getting points either, so they must not have been making them up solely to spite us. Long after I went downstairs to get ready for bed, I could hear my roommate M. upstairs throwing the dice and then simply saying, "What do I have?" since the rules were too complicated to be deciphered.

On Saturday, we sat around the K.'s dining room table up in Gone West playing Texas Hold 'Em until 1 am. It only took a few minutes to start to enjoy the feel of the chips clicking as I threw them into the middle. I came in second, but there may have been some accusations of cheating.

"I didn't cheat," I told N. this morning, defending myself when he told S. that I had cheated. "In fact, you were the one who said that I shouldn't have folded right then, so I picked the cards back up. So really, you were the reason for my win. Thank you."

"I meant," he said, "that next time you shouldn't fold in that situation. I didn't mean that you could take the cards back on that turn."

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