I had two sixes,
five, queen showing.
There were no
longer odds on my three sixes, because I had them, but the odds were about 50
to one, the same as odds against three aces, which seemed unfair. The odds
against Banks' straight remained 250 to one. The odds against Pard's full house
were nearly 700 to one.
I was in the
So I got tickled.
I offered Junior some skin, which he took, then gave back, and we shook hands
the way cool dudes and drunks do.
My foot went to
sleep. The wealthy one. I thought somebody had cut it off and left, but
glancing down I saw it was still there. I took the $50 out of my sock, and
slammed both the money and the sock on the table in front of me in a show of
Pard said $50 on
two pair. Oils raised $25 on general principles. Junior's possible straight
raised $50. I called, raised $10 and put my sock back on.
The pot was
$2,450. I had only $10 left.
Pard turned over
his hole card, and sure enough it was the last room of a full house—seven,
seven, trey, trey, trey. Oils got robbed with jack high. Nobody else had
anything worth mentioning, unless you like to talk about three dead sixes.
So I tore my
sixes in half. Junior, his toupee now barely on, did a little dance because he
had never seen anything so hilarious as a person playing poker with his
savings-account money who tears sixes in half.
I gave him some
skin. He gave it back. I put it in my pocket.