Annie Get Your Gun!

Last night at the Caesars Ladies Tournament was interesting. I was a minute or two late, and when I approached the table looking at my seat card, the lady in seat 8 stretched her neck to see my card and asked ‘What seat?’. What, we have ushers at the poker table now, or does she think I can’t read my own darn card? Point being, first impression – not favorable! I ignored her and sat down on my seat which I found – all by myself, just by using the info on my seat card, whaddaya know!

There’s an saying that says something about keeping your mouth shut and people won’t notice you don’t know a thing, can’t remember it now, and evidently the usher lady didn’t either, or maybe she’s never heard it before.
After calling a bet on a flop of 677 and another bet when the turn was a 10, the river a K, she – very disgusted – turned over her 48 and say ‘Open-ended straight draw and can’t catch a thing’. My iPod failed to keep me busy enough not to point out to her that she did NOT have an open-ended straight draw, merely a gutshot or two. She said no, it’ was open-ended, any 5 and any 9 would have given me a straight. I immediately ordered a drink. (For me, that is. If she wasn’t numerous months pregnant, I would have had ordered one for her too).

The most precious moment came during the following hand. I am in the SB, lots of limpers; I looked at my cards (10d-8d) and completed the bet while saying ‘Great, my favorite hand’ as an incentive to the BB NOT to raise. Was hoping she assumed my favorite hand is a good one.
So, pregnant lady (who was nauseatingly nice to everyone, might I add) replied ‘wow, your favorite hand and under the gun too’. I glanced over to the button on my right and said ‘No, I’m the small blind; I’m not under the gun’. She insisted that I was under the gun. I insisted that I was not. She was not phased by my ignorance and patiently pointed at the button and said again ‘there, look – under the gun, you’re first to act under the gun’. I needed help. I looked around, the dealer was frantically shuffling cards, head bent down, Jo was happily bobbing along to the music on her iPod, staring at the ceiling and the rest of the table was admiring the tournament clock on the wall wayyyyy over there, pretending not to notice. I said ‘I don’t think we’re talking about the same gun here, dear’ and promptly ordered another drink...