Poker with a Purpose
My phone lit up with that ever familiar ringtone of an incoming text message, this time from HemmaCuda: “So what’s it gonna take to get you to start coaching at Stackem?”
When I first moved to Las Vegas, I knew almost nobody in the city. I had one contact here: a girl from high school named Rochelle whom I have no recollection of ever saying one word to in those four years at Grosse Pointe North. She would become one of my best friends here in town and through her I would meet others, but for a long while I was rolling solo. This didn’t worry me moving from Los Angeles to the desert. It was a move to a smaller city but I knew I would never be bored. It was Vegas after all — parties culture galore, a revolving door for visitors, and I would always be able to jump in a card game at any hour of the day or night where the hours would fly as they do when you’re in the poker time warp.
For almost a good solid year I just did my thing by myself. Occasionally (appreciatively) Rochelle and I would go for beers at various dive bars around town but I was basically playing poker and being a loner.