Fear and Loathing in Killarney

It was early saturday morning when we embarked on the road to Killarney. I picked up my accomplace, a little late as expected, and hit the road. I hadn't eaten that morning, as usual, and somewhere around the far side of kildare I started to regret that decision. I turned up the radio to drown out the sound of my rumbling stomach, the intricate soundings out french duo Daft Punk were on hand. The tone was set.

The N21 rolled out before us and we made it to the Glen without needing to stop. I didn't want to sit in the restuarant with a bag, and let all the sharks know I was an out of towner, so checking in first appeared to be the best option. The girl at the desk was quite helpful, but easily confused. Her bewildered look when I asked if the room service had grapefruit still puzzles me. Taking my key, I was pleased to find out I had a ground floor room, in and out in 2 minutes, we arrived at a table for two in the restuarant. I think a good meal is essential before any bout of concentration, and in hindsight a greasey steak sandwich was probably not the greatest choice.

One hour and counting, the starting blocks appear on the horizon, and creep up upon me instantly. Cards are in the air while I'm walking around the hall, does anybody have an ipod charger. Normally, I am happy to play along audioless, and i'm normally the one people wish to drown out. But these poor bastards are truely insufferable. please stop talking to me and let me ignore you in peace.

The cards themselves didn't show up, my starting table was likely the softest I've been at in recent months. King high is pretty enough for 3 barrel call down. The action is ludacris, sadly I only manage a sinle pot but increase my 15k to 19k with the broadway straight. Moved table, get paid by AK on a K high board (some chips donated by Yuletired, thanks). The systematic literal folding for two hours straight was pretty mind numbing.
Button raise with AJs, sb re-raises (been at each other last three hands). I call AKJ flop, he bets, I ship, snaps with AA. Busto.

Now the fun begins, I was less than happy with busting, but not one to dwell I met with a dutch friend named Heini at the bar to cheer myself up, I almost always feel better around her, it's a snakes and ladders affair though. As the night wore on, our love hate relationship ebbed and flowed, quicker and closer, as we generally do; only to ignore each other in the morning. While i'm not about to publish all the details here. Generally a sick night followed, with many of the creeps and degen BBV regs appearing in the bar. Names omitted in a last ditch effort to maintain the shredded dignity that goes along with the live poker scene.

As an aside to festival cash games, 60% shots at 800BB PLO pots are sick.

Saturday night was a polar opposite, wound up at a 21st 40 miles away, no poker chips in sight and the only cards to be seeen had Happy Birthday splashed accross the front. I didn't bring one, as I had no idea who this girl was. Nor had I a clue who any of the rest were, bar the token invite. Severely out-numbered, it's looking up........
Anti-climax indeed, heavy din, and a thundering crash, its all over.

I awake, in a strange house. Countless miles away from my room, my room with three empty beds. I doubt I was missed. After staying to make sure somebody helped eat the mountainous breakfast spread, we were off.

Rinse and repeat, to the cash table. A short grind later, I leave for the long drive home. Even stephen, exhausted but not broken.
Good show.