The room was full, completely and utterly full, of women.
Under my regular circumstances, entering a room full of women was subsequently followed by copious drinking. This, in turn, usually resulted in an embarassing display of a lack of rhythmic talent, and/or my boobs. Today, however, I had come to destroy them all.
Poker.
The Annual Women’s Breast Cancer fundraiser poker tournament. The buy-in was only three hundred bucks, and given a first prize of over twenty thousand, I figured there would be enough donkeys in the crowd to give me a damn good chance of cashing in on some of that cancer cash. With an impressive mound of personal debt to clear sometime before dying of a stress-induced heart attack at age forty seven, I entered the tournament with a mind to win—to play some aggressive, tight poker, and make my poker debut in style.