The Club Guy
Part 3 of the November iPhone Photo Project … aka…NaNo-iPho
It was late, about the time the clubs start to let out in Las Vegas. I was a deer hunter in a tree stand. Just sitting and waiting. It’s not quite fish in a barrel, but when the club guys (aka Los Angeles Douchebagicus) begin their migration from the clubs and toward the DUI arrests and Rohypnol cage, they are a lot easier to convince to play cards. I had a stack of green, 14 stacks of red, and a bottle of beer I wouldn’t finish. That’s when The Club Guy sat down with $600 (six stacks of red) and proved within one hand he had no idea how to play cards. Before long, he had destroyed everybody at the table (except me, fortunately) and run his $600 to north of $6,000. He couldn’t lose. He couldn’t stack his chips.
The beauty of it was, no matter how hard his friends pushed him, he wouldn’t get up. He was in a sick zone and almost unaware of what he was doing. Then, some old, cranky drunk said something snide that snapped Club Guy out of it. Club Guy looked up as if waking from a dream, stood, and left with everybody’s money. I had 2,000 bullets and my gun jammed against the guy. Not only did he destroy the table, he left before I could put him out of his misery. Like the Great White Whale of Club Guys, I’ve been looking for this guy ever since, and will again when I’m in Vegas this weekend for work.