Some minutes later

28 March 2012 some minutes later

I had signed up on line to be a member of the Fox Poker Club many weeks previously.  When I finally get myself to the top of the stairs and approach the reception desk I'm told I don't have to be a member because I've earned temporary membership via my Genting Poker Series Tournament entry.  My inner whacko yells "NOOOO!  I wanna be a REAL poker player!!!".  I wait out my mental tantrum and politely say, "I'd like to be a full member."  As the receptionist continues through my membership process, all I can hear in my head are several THMFrs laughing: 'she wants to be a full member! wah ha ha ha!'  and it's when both receptionsits look up at me quizically that I realize- I've been reacting to imagined sordid jokes which they obviously can't see and I certainly can't explain.

I receive my genuine, bonafide Fox Poker Club London membership card and proceed to walk boldly down the hall.  I can see only a bit of the room as I go forward.  On entering the room I see several tables on my left and more tables on my right and THEY'RE ALL LOOKING AT ME! THE NOOB!  I veer off to my right (just follow the path, just follow the path) and I take another right when I'm able and I end up in the toilet area.  I breathe a sigh of relief.  No kidding.

My head is spinning.  I continue on down this hall and coming to a junction I realize that I've returned to my starting point and no way am I going to make another eejit circuit.  I backtrack and see that in this hallway there exists more than toilets - Official Smoking Area FTW!  It's empty and I light up to catch my breath.  I silently whinge and moan to Grampa Arthur.  He doesn't get what I'm on about.  "It's just cards."  Huh.

I reminisce... mulling over the last several lifetime minutes.  The poker player in me starts to emerge.  My happy monkey 'Hiya!' to Joe Beevers.  A man descending the steps of a poker club where a tournament is ongoing and no one else follows.  It's not a fecking break. It's the ugly 'seat open!'.  I'm stunned that he had the grace to smile and speak to a random shiny face on a London avenue.

I gather myself and re-enter the room.  This time I actually look around a bit.  Furtively.  Players, dealers, chips.  Reality adjustment.  Approximately a million more tables than I've ever seen in my local 'classic' tournaments. More ipads than I've ever seen in one room ever.  No one, absolutely no one, cares who I am after noting that I'm not a new dealer/player at their table.

I decide I'm going to play cash.  I want to acclimatize myself.  I riffle my own chips at home while playing online (yes, really) but fucksakes that's my entire experience handling chips outside a Las Vegas blackjack table with JodyLee.  And blackjack definitely doesn't count at a poker table.  So.  I present myself at the counter.  Everyone is very kind as they inform me they're the Genting tournament staff and I need to go 'over there' to the cash window.

As I walk over to the cash window which sits on the edge of my rescue toilet/smoking hallway, I mull over my situation.  I can't concieve of pretending  that I know what I'm doing.  Disaster this way lies.  So when I arrive I go front street.  "I'd like to play cash.  How does that work please?"

To my relief they are completely accomodating.  And friendly.  (Meaning no one at any time makes me feel as stupid as I feel.)  I sit down and hold my own.  Mostly I work like a sponge: my cash table, the tournament tables, the Fox Poker Club in general.

I head back to my hotel after a couple of hours and a massive amount of observation.  Some of which:  It is really true that the charismatic, funny guy at the cash table makes people happy and makes money (Mike); Old guys are not necessarily the weak spots; Bar/food service here is sad and not dependent on whether one is a good tipper; real live poker is perfectly satisfying to my imagined games from my Grampa Arthur's stories.

I leave knowing I'll really be okay starting my tournament tomorrow - day 1b- as long as I avoid the TV table.

And the poker gods laugh.