War is not the answer...

A few weeks ago, a group of my high school buddies and I all got together for our "unofficial" 10-year reunion (before you ask, there was no "official" 10-year reunion... how lame is that?).

The plan was to get a cheap hotel room and do some gambling. In order save money (well, in order to have more money for gambling), we agreed to all stay in one hotel room. Now, I don't know about you, but it is my belief that six guys in one hotel room is NEVER a good idea (and I think the good folks at the Best Western in Mystic would agree with me on this one).

We checked in around three on a Saturday afternoon and started drinking. It didn't take long for everyone to settle into their normal roles within the group. Other than being a little older and fatter, everyone had changed surprisingly little.

By 6:00, everyone had a good buzz going. Nobody had to worry about driving, as there was a shuttle to the casino from where we were (OK, I've got to admit, that was a pretty smart move).

It was exciting to finally get to the casino. But, oh man, Foxwoods on a Saturday night is one kooky place. The people. The outfits. The gambling.

I then proceeded to lose $160 real quick at the blackjack tables. And it wasn't pretty. I kept stopping at 18 or 19, and the dealer kept blowing me out of the water. Ouch. I licked my wounds and moved on to smaller ventures.

I moved on to the $5 War table (yes, War, the card game you played when you were a kid). I actually did OK there. But I saw a guy lose $2000 on ONE HAND of WAR.

ONE hand!

Of WAR!

Think about that for a minute...

Anyway, six hours at Foxwoods when you're losing can really be a drag. I got some cheap dinner and watched the other guys play for a while. I was grateful when the shuttle arrived to take us back to our low-roller hotel.

But the casino was only foreplay...

We made our way back to the hotel room. And played poker until six in the morning.

I feel bad for the people in the rooms next to ours. We must have been pretty loud and obnoxious. And drunk. And loud.

But I was having a blast. It was good to be out with the guys and only be concerned about the next card coming up (and occasionally running out of beer). After a summer spent desperately looking for a new job, and then adjusting to the new job and pounding out another grad school class during the fall, it was nice to blow off a little steam and not worry about every dollar.

And eventually, my luck started turning.

Holy shit! I suddenly found myself up a couple hundred bucks (I think I even won $108 on one pot... (I also won the $5 ante final showdown hand)). Awesome.

Things finally wound down. I was able to grab about three hours of sleep before hitting the road.

It felt great to get in the car and drive home up for the weekend. I think the whole experience probably took about a week off my life. But what a ride...