Saturday was my second junket to the Palace of Cards and Horses. However, I wasn't quite so fortunate as my initial foray into B&M cards.

We arrived around 2pm, only to be greeted by a list 30 people long for 2/4 and 3/6. Yes, I know that I'm technically capable of playing higher limits, but right now, I'm just not financially capable of doing so. On Wednesday, the list was only 10 people deep for either limit, and was seated in less time than it took me to drink 16oz Miller Lite I ordered to "take the edge off".

Saturday, though, it took us over an hour to get seated at 3/6, and I suppose that's to be expected. I was the first to be seated, and as I scoped out my table, I realized the only empty chair was the 2s, right next to a very large man with cheesy white moustache and a tuft of heavy white hair spilling out the top of his too-small orange t-shirt.

This was going to be a long afternoon.

When I sat down, he immediately said that he was currently stuck for close to $250, and any and all elation I had of doubling up through him was immediately killed because he had the personality akin to Milton from Office Space. If he didn't get his way, I felt that he was about to burn the card room down.

As I waited for the button to pass, I realized just how he was stuck for $250 after 2 hours at a 3/6 table. He played shit hands like K5o and got so pissed that he berated other people--under his breath, of course--for having a higher kicker. He was not a happy camper.

In the next few hours, though, he went on the biggest rush of shitty cards hitting shitty boards, and in turn, erased his $250 loss, and turned it into a $500 profit. He had 5 columns of $1 chips stacked 50 high, and this is after he had colored up 3 seperate times for a rack a piece.

It was at the this time that he turned to me.

"I'm not really bad, I was just getting unlucky when you first sat down."

No, man, you're terrible. Beyond terrible. You're a shitty player.

He'd amassed this huge pile of chips on horrendous play, and he was too stupid to realize that he was about to bleed a lot of the back to the table. Two hours after his high-point, he'd bled close to $200, and requested a table change. For what reason, I don't know. It's not like he was going to find a table that would be easier for him. He was going to lose the rest of his stack.

Shortly thereafter, I went home--down for the night--because I knew that the table was going to dry up after he was longer at it. I might've even cried a little inside. I hope to see him out there again. If I do, I'm immediately requesting a table change.