Losing it in L.A.

A week ago about this time of the night, I packed my RV and left on a road trip that was going to cover 6 or 7 different casinos. The month of January was a great month of winnings and I was looking forward to the trend continuing.

I was in for a real surprise.

I drove about 10 miles from home and traffic slowed like there was an accident ahead.

I decided instead of driving longer I would just go to Sycuan here in San Diego and spend the night. Play a little tomorrow then drive on. I went to bed a little up that evening after a late night of playing N/L.

The next day I drove to Oceanside.

It is almost 1/2 way to L.A. from San Diego. I played the rest of that day until about 4 in the morning. I was up a little from the play there.
But, I wanted to get to L.A. before the morning commute traffic began.

By 5:30 a.m. I had parked at the Casino in Hawaiian Gardens and crawled into my sleeping bag.

2:oo p.m. saw me up and showered and ready to play.

Within a few hours I had lost two racks and decided to go back to R.V. and read awhile.

A few hours later back at the tables a series of bad beats cost me another two racks and I was "feeling an attitude". (Another way of saying starting to go on Tilt)
I knew I was so, I went back to the RV and had a fairly early turn-in.

The next morning after losing a rack, I walked to a bookstore about a mile away and read over a cup of coffee for a few hours. Then back to the RV for a nap.

Rested and ready I went in and decided to play in a bigger game. I bought in for $500 at a 15/30 holdem game and for the next 7 hours went from 500 to 200, then 200 to 500 for six cycles. I was happy not to lose anymore money, but frustrated I was down as much as I ever have been on a trip.

Maybe a change of location will help, I think. I relocate the RV over to the Bicyle club knowing I have done well there before. A day so of the same occurs. Lose a rack, take a break, lose a rack, another break.Lose a rack take a nap.

After a day of this I am ready to head toward home, but not yet ready to give up on my trip. Saturday afternoon finds me in horrible L.A. traffic driving to Corona to catch Interstate 15 to Pechanga Casino about 1/2 way home. L.A. is gray, and ugly, the other drivers appear mean and angry. Many people don't like to get behind an R,V so I have to slam on my brakes a number of times to avoid someone cutting in or changing lanes right in front of me. All my household goods shift and groan whenever that happens and I know the cupboards are going to be a mess.

But, Pechanga is one of my favorite poker rooms and Temecula is in a beautiful valley in Southern California wine country, so I am looking forward to getting out of L.A.

A few hours later I am seated in the beautiful Pechanga Poker room.

Different location, but same luck and results and I am down even more.
Saturday night is a dark night in the parking lot of the Pechana Casino.
If I was a drinker this would be a good reason for a major drunk. I am not, so to bed I go.



Superbowl Sunday, playing poker at a friendly table. What could be better? Playing and winning could be! For 8 hours I broke even at the 8/16 table before losing almost all the cash I had brought with me that I hadn't already lef in L.A.

Midnight Sunday finds me driving toward home, but I am not yet ready to give up. I have one more day before I have to be home. I head to the Sycuan Casino, 25 miles from my home.

12 hours of poker playing later I leave $60 up for the day. At least I am not a total loser.

Tuesday morning I don't even want to go in and play a little in the two extra hours I have between the time I woke up and when I need to be home.

So without even taking a shower, or having breakfast I decide to drive the 45 minutes home.

15 minutes later I am startled by the sound of an explosion, the RV shakes like I have been hit or struck something. Then the shaking stops. I realize I have blown a tire on the left rear. Because they are dual tires I am still driving. I pull carefully over and get out to look. The explosion of the tire was so dramatic that not only is there no tire left on the wheel, but a hole has been blown in the side of the RV.

Three hours later after the Auto Club changed the tire, I am home feeling like a person returning from a war, not seriously wounded but a little shell-shocked.


This was not the exciting poker trip I had looked forward to.

Two days later I am still trying to get out from under the grey skies that I have brought back from L.A.