IN THE COMPANY OF MEN?
First the news: Hugo Chavez has decided to redesign the Ven. flag to have the horse "trotting freely to the left". Up until now the horse has galloped to the right. Obviously not the direction that HC wanted it to go. Above the fold on the same page of the SF Chronicle is an item informing us that the Oval office rug was designed by Laura Bush in order to give George a sense of optimism throughout his hectic day. Seems to be working. Or was it obliviousness? Oh, and the little Asian girl won on Project Runway. Santino? Santinowho?
The past few days have been spent shadowing El prof. through his rounds in The Institution. I lend my expert opinion when appropriate, but most times just stay silent and observe the interesting cases. I'm an old hand at this and enjoy the chance to see people deal with issues I've long since stopped caring about. "Signifiers" and the gaze of the "other" lead the pack in catch phrases. What the hell are they talking about? It's tiring, so at the end of the day we twist one, crack a beer or Cuba Libre and head over to The Poker and Pool Palace on Ceazar Chavez St. Another Chavez heard from.
There's nothing more gay than a bunch of straight men getting together for a night of cards away from the wife or girlfriend. And I don't mean Gay in the man or man, same sex, you stick it here, now over there, now in here, sense of the word. I mean it in the lame, mincing, prancy, bitchy, you know you've let your parents down...sense. Straight guys are way more gay there. The Lizard, Purple Dick, Four Aces and Poker Face are all there. I'm The Mustard. Add to this the fact that poker is now very popular on TV and you get some idea how it really is without the estrogen. These guys would look immature in a sixth grade playground recess. But what the fuck. I can be just as immature as the next guy. The Mustard can play that.
We sit down at the green felt and Poker Face immmediately lives up to his name by being as transparent as a Tom Cruise "relationship". Are you sure you want me to know all that? Four Aces is gloomy and sullen until Poker Face's wife calls to check in and he perks up enough to pounce, ragging on him for being soooo PW'd. The Lizard, obsessed with Texas, all in, no hold 'em, high ball, low ball, ring around the fucking rosy draw, keeps the game alive long enough to take Poker face for a big pot right out of the box. Purple Dick sips wine, eats finger food and trys to throw fuel on a feud between Aces and Poker. It's an easy toss. As they bicker and bitch I calmly win a few hands and put money in my pocket. The Mustard is spreading.
I rarely play cards. The Palace is one of the few places I do and I always come away flush. It looks like tonight will be no different. By the time the coo-coo clock tolls ten I'm up a thousand. Looks like the house will once again comp. me with a suite for the night and maybe even tickets to a show and manicure. In the end it was easy pickings. When the rest of them left with their tails between their legs, The Lizard and I had one last drink before I took the elevator up to the penthouse. Tonight I'll sleep like a baby. I don't even know why they call it gambling with this bunch. You want hot mustard on that dog?
The past few days have been spent shadowing El prof. through his rounds in The Institution. I lend my expert opinion when appropriate, but most times just stay silent and observe the interesting cases. I'm an old hand at this and enjoy the chance to see people deal with issues I've long since stopped caring about. "Signifiers" and the gaze of the "other" lead the pack in catch phrases. What the hell are they talking about? It's tiring, so at the end of the day we twist one, crack a beer or Cuba Libre and head over to The Poker and Pool Palace on Ceazar Chavez St. Another Chavez heard from.
There's nothing more gay than a bunch of straight men getting together for a night of cards away from the wife or girlfriend. And I don't mean Gay in the man or man, same sex, you stick it here, now over there, now in here, sense of the word. I mean it in the lame, mincing, prancy, bitchy, you know you've let your parents down...sense. Straight guys are way more gay there. The Lizard, Purple Dick, Four Aces and Poker Face are all there. I'm The Mustard. Add to this the fact that poker is now very popular on TV and you get some idea how it really is without the estrogen. These guys would look immature in a sixth grade playground recess. But what the fuck. I can be just as immature as the next guy. The Mustard can play that.
We sit down at the green felt and Poker Face immmediately lives up to his name by being as transparent as a Tom Cruise "relationship". Are you sure you want me to know all that? Four Aces is gloomy and sullen until Poker Face's wife calls to check in and he perks up enough to pounce, ragging on him for being soooo PW'd. The Lizard, obsessed with Texas, all in, no hold 'em, high ball, low ball, ring around the fucking rosy draw, keeps the game alive long enough to take Poker face for a big pot right out of the box. Purple Dick sips wine, eats finger food and trys to throw fuel on a feud between Aces and Poker. It's an easy toss. As they bicker and bitch I calmly win a few hands and put money in my pocket. The Mustard is spreading.
I rarely play cards. The Palace is one of the few places I do and I always come away flush. It looks like tonight will be no different. By the time the coo-coo clock tolls ten I'm up a thousand. Looks like the house will once again comp. me with a suite for the night and maybe even tickets to a show and manicure. In the end it was easy pickings. When the rest of them left with their tails between their legs, The Lizard and I had one last drink before I took the elevator up to the penthouse. Tonight I'll sleep like a baby. I don't even know why they call it gambling with this bunch. You want hot mustard on that dog?
posted by mike osterhout at 3:36 PM
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