Wednesday, September 27, 2006

July 13th, 2006

Witness the dreaded Pub Poker Crackdown.

I understand why the authorities would do this - I started out playing for kicks with friends, low stakes, just an excuse to get the guys round. It soon rampaged out of control. Before I knew where I was, I'd been pulled into a world of seedy backroom card sharps and racketeers, ready to fleece me for every red cent I had.

I remember vividly one night in Stockbridge throwing down pocket bullets, only to see there were five aces in play. They nailed my head to the table of course, which was only fair, since I was cheating like a bastard.

It would've been easier to deal with if we hadn't been playing for matchsticks, but Edinburgh is a hard town full of hard men.

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