Sunday, December 7, 2014

Stress in the tank. By Wesley

There are times when the events in our lives happen quite unexpectedly.  Not because we are careless or because we are willfully ignorant, but because sometimes shit just happens.  There are other times when events are as predictable as sunset, yet we are surprised.

If I began an anecdote with: "I'm playing poker with guys who are members of the Bloods, the Aryan Circle, and the Aryan Brotherhood...." There are endings that are predictable and endings that might surprise you.

I'm playing poker with guys who are members of The Bloods, The Aryan Circle, and the Aryan Brotherhood.  There are a smattering of independent violent felons who come and go, but we have a core group of guys who play. It takes our minds off where we are and it passes the time.

We play tournaments, winner take all.  It is a format we developed over the last couple of weeks and it was working well.  The buy in is a soup and a stamped envelope.  They cost $1.45

The games have been highlighted by laughs and camaraderie and general pleasant times since we began.  Cracks have been developing.  Some I have seen and some I have missed.  I try to keep an eye on events and relationships so that I can avoid trouble.  I have a pretty good track record of predicting events, and I began to feel like I needed to quit playing poker.

It began with the coffee shots the "Aryans" do.  They put 10 or more teaspoons of instant coffee into Dr. Pepper with cinnamon candy and suck it all down.  To this day, I have no idea why these guys do this.  Why would you want to get pumped up on caffeine locked in a small room packed with men?  I just want to go to sleep and wake up in 40 days....pee....and go back to sleep.

Mostly, only white guys with little hair and "ss" tattoos do this.  Yesterday, they were pumped on their shots and insults were being hurled around by one of the Aryan Circle guys who is obviously convinced that he is the smartest guy in the room.  he is constantly insulting people and would probably be beaten up on a daily basis if he weren't a steroid junkie no one will challenge.

He and a small time dope dealer nearly went into a fist fight over the disposition of  $.15 cents. Yes, the proper allocation of one dime and one nickel nearly had them throwing punches.  I decided it was time for me to quit.

Later, the leader of the Bloods was head to head against one of his underlings.  He decided, when he was short stacked, that he wanted to end it right then and split the winnings.  His underling refused and subsequently won the pot.

He also won a serious beating for refusing to do what was demanded and share the soup and envelopes.  Then we all were rewarded with a couple of hours of a shouting that the beaten man was not really a blood, was weak, probably gay, and a man with a painful immediate future.  He was called a "bitch ass ho" and a "Ho ass bitch" and many more terrible accusations that I can neither confirm, deny, or accurately translate. But they must be bad.

In any case, my card playing days are over.

Chess anyone?

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