There are few endeavors at which I do not excel. Precious few. Poker, however, is one of them. I was pretty good in undergrad (read: lucky) and won some cash off several friends who drank more than I did, but now that everyone but me has been watching it on TV every week and actually knows some strategy, I comparatively suck.
So, when six lawyers got together after some client visits Thursday night to play, I was the first one out. Including the girl right out of school who had this sitting in her lap:
I’d had a few drinks when I decided to break the silence the other players were sharing with this conversational start:
“Do any of y’all ever think about what your identity would be if you were a pro wrestler?”
Me: What about you, Rob (Rob played college football)? Surely you’ve given it a thought?”
Me: “Well, I’ve given this a LOT of thought, and I think I’d be THE SHYSTER. I’d come out in a tight suit like a stripper or something–you know, velcro in all the right places–and my manager would follow behind me carrying a giant plastic screw. We’d both scream at the crowd, ‘Who’s gonna get screwed by THE SHYSTER tonight?’ Then, I’d rip off the suit and put on a Cherokee warrior headband. I think I’d do well, after the ‘roids started kicking in.”
Everyone Else (mouths agape):
Rob: “I think you’ve drunk enough… I’m going to give you some more chips, so that you can go back to playing poker.”
Me: “And I think y’all are a bunch of damned turds.”
Little do they know that their apathy will only fuel my desire to become THE SHYSTER. And they will pay. Oh yes, they will pay.
If there’s a place I can go and be appreciated for my long term dreams, it’s with the writers of these funny blogs!