So back in high school I used to play in an underground card joint. I wasn’t 21 yet and home games were my only option for live poker. My father wouldn’t let me deposit into an online poker account either (at least while I lived under his house). I studied 2+2 and read poker books for about two years before I even played a hand of online poker.
Naturally, being a student of 2+2, ‘Supersystem’ and ‘Rounders’, I sought adventure and cash games throughout the city, ’rounding’ as it were. We had homegames lined up all over, and were constantly seeking new ones at every whim. homepokergames.com was a swell place, and my friend and I found a game near a run down shopping center, in the corner, hidden from sight.
It looked like nothing. The plaza itself was ghetto as hell and the proposed game was nowhere to be seen. We walked along an ally across from a dive bar, eventually knocking in a (seemingly) abandoned building. There was a camera from the outside and the glass was blacked out.
We were buzzed in, a short hallway leading to the locked door. A crazy looking fellow led us into the game, a smoky den with 4 or so tables spread out. Hardasses were lined along the table, and we were by far the youngest demographic in that room. Only one game was spread during that time, a 1/2NL game, and it was ran by a true hardass, a guy we came to know as ‘Boxer Bill’.
The game was soft, as expected. This place (lovingly labeled as ‘the secret garden’ by my friends and I) would be one of the many games my friend(s) and I would visit. The game was filled with some peculiar characters…crack heads, a bookie (who was allegedly connected), con men, bums, and fat whores. There were many instances in which I felt less than comfortable, wondering when I was going to get robbed. The game was obviously a ‘private’ one, and the legality was questionable at best- I highly doubt the owners of that place filed taxes on that place. I heard that a few years ago, the place got robbed.
The dealers would be labeled as ‘bums’ by many standards. There was a dealer there named Dave, probably around 32 or so, a bum. Had no home, no job, dealt in the game (as well as he could). But Dave was a hustler, and he found ways to make money. It was a normal session…by this time, I was a regular in the 1/2NL game, which ran two or three times a week. I brought my friend Curt to the game, a guy who actually introduced me to poker. If it weren’t for him, I probably never would have gotten into it. (I can actually remember his extreme desire to initially rent the movie ‘Rounders’ and the impact it had on us). With that aside, it was maybe his third time at the game.
So the game is just about to start and some of my other friends were there. Though all of us were reasonable players (relative to that time), there were still plenty of fish, and usually at least two tables running. Dave the dealer was dicking around with a deck, and some friends and I were talking at an empty table.
Dave came over to us, deck in hand.
” hey…wanna see a trick?”
“sure”
“pick a card” (I’m sure you can see where this is headed)
So we picked a card (the Qs if I recall correctly). He flipped three cards around, telling us to follow the Qs. our card was SO SO SO obviously where we thought it would be.
“Where’s the Queen?”
“there” (we pointed at the third card), he lifted it, revealing the Qs.
“Lets do it again”
We repeated the process, getting it right again. Thus, the hustle began…
“You guys want to play for money?”
My friend Ben paused. I shook my head. “Nah man, I’m not a sucker…thanks though. I’m not going to fall for that shit.”
“Alright, your guys’ loss. Lets play a few more times”
(We proceed to play a few more times, obviously we win every time). He continues to chime “Welp, that’s $20 you could have won…That’s $15 you could have won”
So on the last try, Dave the Dealer stared at my friend and I, chirping ” Where’s the queen?…$50, I bet you you can’t find the Queen.” He swaps the cards around, so easy and visible…
“IT HAS TO BE THERE!” Ben exclaimed, pointing at the middle card. “Comon man, split it with me…$25 a piece.”
I paused. It had to be a trick…right? There’s no way it could be there. But it was $25 and he was just asking us to take it.
“Alright, I’ll split it with you. Pick that card”
We lifted the card, in amused shock that the middle card was NOT the Queen (obviously). We paid Dave as he cackled like a madman. He pointed at me and laughed-
“I love it when people say they aren’t a sucker. They always say that shit…I once won $2,500 from a guy in one night off this trick.”
I shook my head, my idiotic high school brain uncomprehending to what just happened. It was a lesson well learned, and perhaps a valuable one. I continued to revel in my own ignorance, still waiting for the game to start. I looked over at the adjacent table and saw Dave talking to my friend Curt, showing him the same ‘trick’ he showed us.
I laughed in amusement when Dave proposed the gamble. Curt said the same stuff as I did, that he wasn’t a sucker, etc. When Dave made the final proposal (after letting Curt ‘win’ a few times), Curt seemed genuinely interested in the bet. I had to step in.
“Curt, Dave just hustled Ben and I for $50…don’t make the same mistake. We fell for literally the same game you’re playing now. Don’t do it.”
Curt continued to stare at the three cards, face down. He was mumbling to himself “I know it’s there, I just know it.”
“DON’T DO IT YOU MORON.” I continued to tell Curt not to do it, not only because it was idiotic, but because Curt didn’t have a ton of money to begin with (in terms of gambling). I mean, I guess I was stupid enough to fall for it myself, no sense in someone else making the same mistake I did.
Dave the dealer was smiling, making small gestures. “It’s only $40…it’s up to you”
I don’t even really know what Curt was thinking about. Yeah, I was a fucking moron for falling for that trick to begin with, but there’s no reason he shouldn’t have listened to me, his best friend, on whether or not to do this idiotic trick…especially after I fell for it myself. Alas, you know the rest…Curt agreed, lost his $40, mumbled to himself “Wow, that guy is fucking good.”…WELL NO SHIT CURT.
Anyways, I remember I was pissed for a bit but then grew to accept it. I got hustled. I remember I first tried to ‘get Dave back’ by tipping him very marginally while playing, if at all. But when I finally came to peace that yeah, I got owned, tips came back in their normal order. Later on that night he offered to teach us if we gave him $20, but we declined.
What a retarded hustle. Tons more stories like this too, will type more on this subject in the future.