Day 111
Today it happened.
I had to participate in the event I’ve been trying to forget about for the past few days…
Shopping for a new pair of jeans with the wife.
What made it even worse was the mother-in-law’s insistence on coming with us.
You could be forgiven for thinking such a mundane task would be the most straightforward thing in the World: walk into a shop, ask for a pair of boot-cut jeans in my size, pay for them, say thank-you and fuck off to the pub.
Sadly not.
After discovering a perfectly adequate pair within sixty seconds of entering the first store, the current Mrs. Snowman takes it upon herself to announce we’ve found a possible purchase and drags me off to the next shop. There is, of course, an addendum to this. The “next shop” was reached via the women’s clothing and shoe departments of the one we’d just left.
Each store held far more purchasing possibilities for the wife and her mother than they did for me. Consequently I was made to stand around while the women greedily fingered most of the clothing in central England.
I suspect I wasn’t the only husband who was going though this torture as each store had an identical scene. They were full of men standing slightly behind their partners with a look of exasperation and all saying exactly the same thing when an item of clothing was dangled in front of them for approval:
“Oh, that’s lovely, I think you really should get that one”
The emphasis increased each time the sentence was quoted.
You can spot the men who have reached their fourth shop as they are on their knees with their hands clasped in front of them, pleading for their partners to actually buy something.
I was ready to commit a double homicide after two hours.
I summoned all the decorum I could muster and with remarkable self-restraint politely suggested it might be beneficial for all concerned if I were to go back to the original shop, buy the jeans and meet them both at an appropriate location for lunch.
Unwisely, they agreed and twenty minutes later I was safely ensconced in the pub ordering my third pint of beer.
When they finally joined me, they’d purchased enough clothing to pay off the national debt of Nigeria and I was perilously close to being drunk.
With several cc’s of adrenalin pumping around their bodies after their shopping expedition, they were far more interested in pulling out their purchases and comparing them than they were in my advanced state of inebriation. Accordingly, I didn’t receive the traditional tongue-lashing until the wife had driven us home and they could target their disgust with more focus.
From one perspective I considered it to be a reasonably successful day.
Even though I could only find sanctuary in the bedroom, I still managed the mandatory fuck-up at the poker tables.
The alcohol provided a more relaxed playing style than usual and I dived headlong into an $11.00 game and failed to reach the first break after my pocket 10’s were cracked by trip 5’s. Undeterred, I entered a $5.50 tournament and in my drunken state mistook 4-7 off for pocket Aces.
The hand didn’t hold up.
My final effort of the day was a $4.40 affair by which time I’d sobered up enough to have a rough idea of what I was doing. I played tightly and with common sense, only raising when I hit or with premium starting hands. Unfortunately there were two participants at my table who were quite clearly insane.
They either raised every hand or went all-in and managed to hit every time.
Aces and Kings were being beaten all over the place and one hand saw a full house beaten by 8-6 off when a straight flush hit the board.
I really don’t know how any poker player is expected to compete against lunacy such as this. I’ve no idea what game they think they’re playing but the one thing I can say with absolute certainty is that it’s got nothing to do with poker.
As such I have devised yet another moneymaking scheme that will ensure I have an early and comfortable retirement on a Caribbean island.
The Snowman Website for Poker Pricks.
As usual the idea is simple.
They pay a very large fee to obtain membership to a site I intend to set up and are thereby able to congregate with other morons. They all take their places around a table and wait for a game to start. However, the algorithm that shall be the foundation of the site will have absolutely no intention of dealing any cards whatsoever.
These players are stupid enough to hang around for hours and possibly even days waiting for things to kick off. At least it means everyone else won’t have to suffer them on the proper sites for a while.
Bastards.
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $15.14
I had to participate in the event I’ve been trying to forget about for the past few days…
Shopping for a new pair of jeans with the wife.
What made it even worse was the mother-in-law’s insistence on coming with us.
You could be forgiven for thinking such a mundane task would be the most straightforward thing in the World: walk into a shop, ask for a pair of boot-cut jeans in my size, pay for them, say thank-you and fuck off to the pub.
Sadly not.
After discovering a perfectly adequate pair within sixty seconds of entering the first store, the current Mrs. Snowman takes it upon herself to announce we’ve found a possible purchase and drags me off to the next shop. There is, of course, an addendum to this. The “next shop” was reached via the women’s clothing and shoe departments of the one we’d just left.
Each store held far more purchasing possibilities for the wife and her mother than they did for me. Consequently I was made to stand around while the women greedily fingered most of the clothing in central England.
I suspect I wasn’t the only husband who was going though this torture as each store had an identical scene. They were full of men standing slightly behind their partners with a look of exasperation and all saying exactly the same thing when an item of clothing was dangled in front of them for approval:
“Oh, that’s lovely, I think you really should get that one”
The emphasis increased each time the sentence was quoted.
You can spot the men who have reached their fourth shop as they are on their knees with their hands clasped in front of them, pleading for their partners to actually buy something.
I was ready to commit a double homicide after two hours.
I summoned all the decorum I could muster and with remarkable self-restraint politely suggested it might be beneficial for all concerned if I were to go back to the original shop, buy the jeans and meet them both at an appropriate location for lunch.
Unwisely, they agreed and twenty minutes later I was safely ensconced in the pub ordering my third pint of beer.
When they finally joined me, they’d purchased enough clothing to pay off the national debt of Nigeria and I was perilously close to being drunk.
With several cc’s of adrenalin pumping around their bodies after their shopping expedition, they were far more interested in pulling out their purchases and comparing them than they were in my advanced state of inebriation. Accordingly, I didn’t receive the traditional tongue-lashing until the wife had driven us home and they could target their disgust with more focus.
From one perspective I considered it to be a reasonably successful day.
Even though I could only find sanctuary in the bedroom, I still managed the mandatory fuck-up at the poker tables.
The alcohol provided a more relaxed playing style than usual and I dived headlong into an $11.00 game and failed to reach the first break after my pocket 10’s were cracked by trip 5’s. Undeterred, I entered a $5.50 tournament and in my drunken state mistook 4-7 off for pocket Aces.
The hand didn’t hold up.
My final effort of the day was a $4.40 affair by which time I’d sobered up enough to have a rough idea of what I was doing. I played tightly and with common sense, only raising when I hit or with premium starting hands. Unfortunately there were two participants at my table who were quite clearly insane.
They either raised every hand or went all-in and managed to hit every time.
Aces and Kings were being beaten all over the place and one hand saw a full house beaten by 8-6 off when a straight flush hit the board.
I really don’t know how any poker player is expected to compete against lunacy such as this. I’ve no idea what game they think they’re playing but the one thing I can say with absolute certainty is that it’s got nothing to do with poker.
As such I have devised yet another moneymaking scheme that will ensure I have an early and comfortable retirement on a Caribbean island.
The Snowman Website for Poker Pricks.
As usual the idea is simple.
They pay a very large fee to obtain membership to a site I intend to set up and are thereby able to congregate with other morons. They all take their places around a table and wait for a game to start. However, the algorithm that shall be the foundation of the site will have absolutely no intention of dealing any cards whatsoever.
These players are stupid enough to hang around for hours and possibly even days waiting for things to kick off. At least it means everyone else won’t have to suffer them on the proper sites for a while.
Bastards.
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $15.14