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Another Masterpiece by El Stuntman
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10-04-2008 11:22pm#1
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Moderators, Science, Health & Environment Moderators, Social & Fun Moderators, Society & Culture Moderators Posts: 60,104 Mod ✭✭✭✭
Join Date:Posts: 59277
Very good dude.
Joe's life changed forever one evening in October. A regular at the Grafton poker room in Dublin's city centre, he looked away from the Champions League highlights that he had been following while the dealers changed over and looked back to the dealer's seat. It was as though he'd been struck by a blonde thunderbolt. Her nametag said Adriana but Joe couldn't see that, beguiled as he was by her beautiful face with its blue eyes framed by straight blonde hair and its Slavic cheek bones that you could ski down. The other regulars too were quietened by Adriana's appearance until, that is, she shuffled up and dealt. The game then relapsed into the usual routines of folding, calling and raising with occasional flashes of excitement but Joe had lost all interest in that.
The only thing that held his attention now was Adriana, her face and her equally beautiful voice, controlling the table with its sibillant Mitteleuropa tones. Some of the regulars attempted to banter with Adriana and she laughed along easily with them, revealing that she was from Bratislava in Slovakia and that she had only been in Ireland for a week, having worked in Paris before that. Joe was too shy to join in the conversation so he just listened to her voice, watched her face surreptitiously and had to be reminded of his turn to act many times. He was in heaven.
Eventually the dealers had to be changed again and 'Grumpy Gav', a local boy, took over. The regulars discussed the new arrival in their midst and crude comments of the 'what I wouldn't like to do to her' variety were bandied about. Joe smiled outwardly at these witticisms but inside he felt sick that an ethereal being such as Adriana should be discussed in such terms by these degenerates. Eventually he busted out of the tournament and, Adriana being out of sight, he wandered forlornly out into the streets and in the direction of his bachelor flat in The Liberties.
Joe was now thirty-seven years old and had resigned himself to his solitary status in life for many years now. A civil servant in the Motor Tax office, he was a man of routines - work, a few pints with the lads on Wednesdays, low buy-in poker tournaments on Thursdays and Fridays and a visit home to his aged mother in Longford at weekends. He didn't expect much from life except predictability and the most dangerous thing he had ever done was to register for a €1,000 poker tournament after landing a big touch in his regular game once. Women were a foreign country to him and, until the appearance of Adriana in the Grafton, he was quite happy for things to stay that way.
All that weekend, engaging in ritual conversation with his mother in her dreary grey house, he thought of nothing other than Adriana, her smile, her elegant fingers spinning cards to all corners of the table and, most of all, her deep blue eyes filled with laughing knowingness. That Sunday night, having returned to Dublin, Joe did something he had never done before. He went to the Grafton. As soon as he walked in the door, he saw Adriana dealing at the cash tables. The poker room manager blinked in surprise when he saw Joe standing in front of him. "Tournaments closed, sorry Joe" he said. "I'll play cash" replied Joe quickly, pointing at Adriana's table.
There was a seat available and Joe took it. It was notionally a €1/€2 table but there was a crowd of cash regulars on it with big stacks ranging from €700 to over two thousand. A couple of them openly snorted in derision when Joe removed a single €50 note from his wallet and meekly requested chips from Adriana. Joe stacked his puny amount of chips and commenced to peeping at Adriana over his glasses. He didn't find any hands to play, and with the regulars straddling every hand and routinely making big pre-flop raises, it would cost him all his chips to see a single flop.
A big pot then began to brew between two regulars, there was a raising war on the flop between them and all their chips went in, creating a pot of almost fifteen hundred euro on a 853 rainbow flop. Andy, an uncouth taxi driver, revealed his hole cards with a smirk - 88 for top set, making him a strong favourite. With a sigh, his opponent revealed pocket fives, leaving him drawing to a single card. Andy began showboating for the table, requesting Adriana for "no funny stuff there love". Joe could feel his hackles begin to rise as this sort of behaviour was the antithesis of his own, low-key demeanour at the tables. Adriana just smiled and revealed the turn card - another three. She then slowly burned and turned the river and the whole table gasped as it was flipped over - the case five.
Andy's smile turned instantly to a pained grimace and he snatched up his cards and flung them at Adriana. "****ing Polish bitch" he spat out. The regulars looked down at their hands, either unable or unwilling to intervene, and a solitary tear rolled down Adriana's cheek. At that point, Joe could take no more. He sprang out of his seat with clenched fists and held them in front of Andy's reddened face. "You apologise for that, you bastard!" he demanded. It was a comical sight as Andy was easily six inches taller than Joe and probably a hundred pounds heavier but the fury in Joe's eyes made the bigger man back down. He stammered out an apology and retreated from the room. As soon as the door had closed behind him, the other players burst into a round of applause. "I've been waiting for someone to do that for years" one of the regulars said to Joe but he wasn't listening. His eyes were fixed on Adriana who was openly staring at him. "Thank you", she whispered with a little smile that went straight to Joe's heart.
The dealers were rotated soon after that and Adriana went on break. Joe soon lost his chips, pushing in pre-flop with pocket nines only to be called by Ace-King and losing the race. He looked around the room again for Adriana but, not seeing any sign of her, sighed to himself and descended the stairs to the street. Outside it was raining furiously, Joe looked up and down the street for a taxi and, seeing none, resigned himself to a soaking on the way home. Just as he was about to step out of the doorway, he heard a familiar voice behind him; "would you like to go for a drink?" It was Adriana.
Joe nearly fell out of his shoes with excitement and , not trusting himself to speak, frantically nodded his assent. He and Adriana walked together under the shelter of her umbrella to the nearest pub. Once inside, he covered his embarrassment by asking her what she would like. "A screwdriver please", she responded in her beguiling accent. Joe had no idea what that was but he could tell that this woman was a lot more sophisticated than the handful of female acquaintances that he possessed. The little bit of common sense that he owned told him that ordering his usual pint of Guinness would not impress this particular lady. "Two screwdrivers please" he requested from the barman and tried not to choke when the bill came. Once they had sipped on their drinks, Adriana looked over her drink at him. "I wanted to thank you for standing up for me back there", she said, "it was very brave of you". Joe turned beetroot red and spluttered into his drink. "Not at all" he managed to reply, "that Andy is a very ignorant man". "I know" replied Adriana with a mischievous grin that nearly caused Joe's heart to jump out of its chest, "that is why I deal that river card".
Joe couldn't believe what he had just heard and sat there, mouth agape, staring at Adriana. "What?" he eventually asked, sure that he had misheard her. "He is an asshole", laughed Adriana, rolling her s's in a way that made Joe lick his lips involuntarily, "so I deal the five on the river. Is no big deal. I can deal whatever I want". Joe boggled at her and downed half his screwdriver at one gulp. "Tell me Joe", continued Adriana, leaning in close enough that he could smell her perfume, "how much money did you make playing the poker last year?" Joe blushed (for he was a losing player last year and every year). Adriana nodded her head. "Is what I thought", she said, "you play too weak, you not raise enough, you never bluff, you make it easy for the other players". Joe smiled self-deprecatingly at the accuracy of this description.
"Joe", said Adriana, assessing him with her cool gaze, "do you want to win? You like to be winning player, yes?" "Er, of course", replied Joe. "Then we do it", said Adriana, "tomorrow night, you come to my apartment and I teach you. I teach you to win". Joe, completely befuddled by this turn of events, could only nod speechlessly. "Is good", decided Adriana, scribbling down her address and handing it to Joe, "you come tomorrow night, yes?" Joe could only nod his head and clutch the precious address tightly. In one swift movement, Adriana gathered up her things, stood and kissed him on the cheek. "I see you tomorrow Joe", she smiled, "bring wine". Joe lifted a shaky hand in farewell and looked in amazement at the closing door. "See you tomorrow", he repeated to no-one in particular.
Following a sleepless night and an unending day at work, Joe went to his local off-licence and, having sought the advice of the owner as to a suitable wine 'for a lady', purchased an expensive bottle of Chablis. He then returned to his flat where he showered and shaved very carefully. He was too nervous to eat dinner and paced his kitchen for an hour while waiting for the clock to tick around to the appointed hour. Finally the time had come and he took a bus into the city and found himself at Adriana's apartment complex. He inhaled a deep breath and pressed the digits for Adriana's apartment. Her voice came through the speaker "Hi Joe!" "Hi", said Joe. "It's me", he added somewhat unneccessarily. "Come on up", trilled Adriana and the door buzzed open.
Joe, by now awash with sweaty anticipation, took the lift to Adriana's floor, knocked on the door and was greeted by the sight of Adriana. She was dressed in tight jeans and a cut-off top that left little to the imagination. She beamed her gorgeous smile at Joe, kissed him on the cheek again and pulled him into the apartment. Joe stammered a greeting, presented her with the wine and was directed to the sofa. Adriana opened the wine and poured two glasses, handing one to Joe. In his nervousness, he immediately drank half the glass, wincing as the unfamiliar beverage passed down his throat. "So Joe", said Adriana, arranging herself seductively on the sofa, "you still like to be the winning player, yes?" "Er, yes. Of course", blurted out Joe. "And you will do whatever it takes to be winning player, yes?" continued Adriana, leaning closer into Joe, who manfully resisted the temptation to look down her top. "Yes, yes" stuttered Joe, who by now would have agreed to donate both his kidneys to Adriana on the spot.
"So", stated Adriana decisively, placing a deck of cards on the coffee table, "we begin your education, yes? I make you winning player now, yes?". What could Joe do at this point except nod his agreement? The lesson began and Adriana proved to be an extraordinarily gifted teacher. She dealt out dozens of hands and pressed Joe for an explanation of his actions at every stage of each hand, detailing his reasons for each one. Joe's fuzzy understanding of poker theory was whipped into shape within the space of about two hours - "you no call, you raise, yes?", "you no limp, you fold that **** cards, yes?", "you no check there, you bet, yes?" - and each time Adriana would explain to him the optimal course of action. Joe was excited, this beautiful woman was showing him how to win and he could feel a determination building in him to put these lessons into practice. Soon the bottle of wine was finished and Adriana went into the kitchen to get some more drinks. She re-emerged with a large green bottle and two shot glasses.
"What's that?" queried Joe, already feeling pleasantly intoxicated, both on the strength of the wine and the very presence of Adriana. "Is Becherovka", said Adriana, "Czech drink. Is very good, yes? You drink shot and then we say 'Nazdravi', it is same as 'cheers' in English". Joe poured the shot down his neck, it burned slightly on the way down, tasting faintly of herbs and forest. He proclaimed the unfamiliar word and looked into Adriana's eyes once more. "Now Joe", continued Adriana, "I tell you exactly how we going to win, yes?" Joe vaguely registered the 'we'. "You no play the tournaments any more, tournaments are ****, yes?. Now you play the cash games, yes? You buy in for one thousand euro and you will win". Joe's old familiar self-doubt rose to the surface, "how can you be so sure that I'll win?" he queried. Adriana's smile broadened. "Two reasons", she said, "The first - you now good player. I teach you well, yes?" Joe nodded. "And the second?" he asked. "The second reason Joe", Adriana paused for a second, "the second reason is that we cheat, yes?"
Joe flopped backwards in shock. "C-c-cheat?" he stammered. "Of course", beamed Adriana, "how else you win, guaranteed? This how it work. One hand per night, I give you signal, yes? Then I deal you up great hand. I give other player hand that is almost as good. You win big pot." "Jesus", breathed Joe, "I don't know Adriana, I'm not sure I like this". "Is OK Joe"', purred Adriana, now stroking his arm seductively, "we only cheat assholes, yes? Like bastard Andy. We cheat assholes and you win lots of money. We split winnings, yes? Also, I like you Joe. You gentleman, not like these other assholes. Maybe we become more than friends, yes?" Following this speech, she leaned in to Joe and gave him a long, slow kiss on the lips. The deal was sealed in that moment. Adriana gave Joe his final instructions and he floated out of her apartment, lost in a blissful state of total euphoria.
The following night, Joe arrived at the Grafton. His hands were shaking with nerves but, once he caught sight of Adriana dealing at a tournament table, his resolve was stiffened and he marched straight up to the poker desk, produced a thousand euro and demanded a seat in the cash game. Once seated, he took a deep breath and began trying to apply the lessons that Adriana had taught him the previous evening. His mind was cluttered with doubts and fear however and he quickly lost €300 of his stack by meekly folding an overpair on a ten-high board, only to be shown a stone-cold bluff by Niall, a mouthy regular. Confused and panicky, Joe was on the verge of snatching up his chips and running out of the casino when the dealers were changed and Adriana sat into the dealer's chair. As she swept up the cards and shuffled, unnoticed by the rest of the table, she gave Joe a tiny smile out of the corner of her mouth. This was all it took to bring Joe back down to earth and he snatched up his hole cards, ready for battle once more.
Determined to show Adriana that he was worthy of her trust, Joe began to play like a man possessed and swiftly began to run over the table, running several huge bluffs, value betting his good hands and dominating his clearly-frustrated opponents. Then, Adriana touched the side of her neck twice before commencing to deal. The Signal! Joe peeked down at his cards, saw two queens and stuck in a raise to €20. Mouthy Niall re-raised from the button to €70, all the others folded and Joe called. Both players easily had €1,500 behind them at this stage. Adriana dealt out the flop, a seemingly harmless 9 7 2 with no flush draw. Joe bet out €100, confident that the plan was in train. Niall raised to €350 and Joe again called. Adriana slowly flipped the turn card - a queen. Joe tried to stay still as he checked to Niall. Without hesitation, Niall separated out 5 €100 chips from his stack and pushed them into the middle. Joe pretended to think for a moment and then declared 'all-in'. Niall grimaced mightily but had no alternative but to call at this juncture. The cards were revealed and Joe's set of Queens was good against Niall's pocket Aces. The €3,000 pot was pushed over to Joe and Niall left the casino, noisily berating Joe's fishy play.
Adriana was soon rotated out of her seat and Joe cashed out soon after, almost €2,000 in profit for the evening. As he left the cardroom, he could hear the regulars discussing his performance in awed tones. He liked that. Straight after work the following day, Joe went to Adriana's apartment. He was greeted enthusiastically by a laughing Adriana who pulled him inside her apartment door and bestowed another deep kiss on him. Joe pulled €1,000 from his pocket and tried to press it on Adriana as her share of the winnings but she waved it away and directed him to sit down. She then outlined her plan; Joe was to play a few times a week from now on and she would engineer another massive hand for him each evening. He was to hold all of the money until he had accumulated €50,000 in winnings. At that point, explained Adriana, "we fly to Las Vegas, yes? And there Joe, we make love for first time, yes? A celebration!"
Joe, dazzled by the promise of their shared future, was in no shape to demur to this plan and, over the next few weeks, he went on a winning streak the likes of which the Grafton had never seen before. Adriana stayed true to her word and allowed him to bust one asshole each night and the pile of banknotes hidden in Joe's bookcase grew ever higher, until, one glorious Saturday night, he returned from the cardroom, totted up his winnings and discovered that his stash had now topped €50,000. He hardly slept that night, the eager anticipation of what was to come was almost too much for him.
The following lunchtime, he almost ran to Adriana's apartment. Once inside, he blurted out the good news. Adriana was delighted, jumping into his arms and giving him many passionate kisses. Once she had calmed down (this was not an option for Joe), she began issuing instructions. Joe was to book them on a flight to Las Vegas, leaving that evening. And he was to bring the €50,000 with him. Joe complied and raced back to his flat to pack. The flights took no time at all or so it seemed to Joe who was by now lost in a mixture of fevered anticipation and performance anxiety. This mood was only heightened by Adriana who kept referring to him as 'darling' and also by the envious looks that Joe had intercepted from several male passengers.
Once their flight had landed at McCarron airport and they had cleared customs, Joe and Adriana clambered into a taxi and the driver demanded "where to buddy?" Joe started in shock, he had no idea where he was going, having never done anything so impulsive in his life before as to arrive without accomodation booked. Adriana laughed. "Bellagio please", she instructed the driver before turning to Joe, "I already book suite in your name, I ask for honeymoon treatment". Joe smiled back at her, relishing this moment with this beautiful creature who he was now allowing himself to think of as his own. The cab whizzed down the freeways and the Strip, decanting them at the Bellagio within moments. Joe's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw the opulent interior and Adriana giggled again, pulling him by his arm to the check-in counter.
Once checked in, they took the lift to their floor and discovered their room. Joe removed the pile of high denomination euro notes from his pocket with a relieved sigh and separated it into two piles, handing one to Adriana. "Your cut", he said with a nervous snicker, hoping she had not forgotten her end of the bargain. Adriana casually pushed away the wad of notes. "We have more important business to take care of first Joe", she said, blinking her eyelashes seductively at him,"now I take the bath to relax myself. You go for walk around casino while I take bath. Lady needs her privacy, no? Come back in half of hour". Joe exited the room and took a lift to the ground floor. Once there, he wandered around the casino floor, staring in amazement at the sheer scale of the place and checking his watch every two minutes.
As soon as the half hour had gone by, he rushed back to the room. He eagerly pushed open the door and was met by the sight of...nothing. Adriana's bags were gone and there was no sign of her presence, save for the lingering scent of her perfume. The piles of euro banknotes were also nowhere to be seen. The only new item in the room was an envelope laid on a pillow. Joe, by now ashen-faced and trembling, collapsed onto the oversized bed and opened the envelope. A single sheet of paper was contained within and Joe drew it out slowly and read these words:
'Joe. You good man but you very stupid, yes? Use my lessons well on the poker table, they my present to you. Ciao, Adriana. xx'
Joe lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling and the overhead fan rotating slowly. Many minutes passed and then he began to laugh, slowly at first but then increasingly hysterically. Eventually his laughter ceased and he swung his legs off the bed and walked to the wardrobe. He pulled out his suitcase and removed a false bottom. From within, he pulled out a stack of euro notes - fifty thousand worth. The investment in the crude fakes had been repaid many times, despite the rebuke of his romantic heart to his cynical head.
'Ciao', he repeated softly to himself, 'Ciao indeed my darling'.
el S0
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