She's A Ringer

My recent interest taken in the game of poker is mostly due to my new place of residence. In my last house I lived basically alone, since my roommate preferred to stay at her boyfriend's place. They moved in together at the beginning of the year and I shacked up in his vacant room. It is admittedly more comfortable here, albeit much louder, thanks to my three acquired roommates, all male, all rowdy, all the time. Don't get me wrong - I'm crazy about these guys, hell, I even date one. (Different story.) I just mean to say that it's been an interesting transition.

If the boys aren't out drinking and watching sports or in the living room drinking and watching sports, they're drinking and playing online poker. They take their laptops and convene in a casual circle around the couches with ESPN in the background, one eye on the Carolina game, the other on the hand they're playing. And I'll admit, it's addictive. I joined them one night out at a local bar that holds a weekly freeroll poker tournament - that is, anyone is free to play at no cost. I got sloppy drunk, incredibly lucky, and finished in second place. Ever since, I've been somewhat hooked, parlaying my beginner's luck into a real affection for the game. Common drinking games for my age group include the likes of beer pong, cornhole, flip cup, and horseshoes (not the safest), all which require a hand-eye coordination gene I seem to be missing. But poker is a game of logic, odds, and psychology, a combination I'm a little better with. Though I have nowhere near the swagger of my oldest roommate. Twenty-five and apparently bred for the game, his loud mouth and passion for pushing buttons make him a veritable poker Thoroughbred. It's fascinating to watch what his confidence does to the fragile psyche of the Hold 'Em newbie.

I feel as though this is not a good mixture, a natural flair for a game notorious for turning on its most loyal followers, but hey, as long as I'm still betting with play money, I'm okay with it.