Crumbling into the ashtray

So there I was. Fucked off my nuts in a penthouse in Putney playing poker and winning. And spinning around on my chair as the room gets smokier and smokier. Pretty soon I start asking myself “How the fuck am I winning?”

I clearly have no idea, so I begin asking other people. Seems they don’t know either. But now they’ve all spotted that I’m wrecked, it becomes unlikely that I’ll be winning for long. Because then of course my next move did have to be the only thing that I never do, and that’s bluff. But when you’re in my state, you don’t exactly bluff, you kinda just give your money away. As I was thinking “Now these guys think I’m wrecked so I can do clever stuff and they’ll never guess it was intentional!” But of course I was discounting the fact I really was wrecked. So one ‘all in –> me out’ later, I started making like a ringmaster.

Now rolling takes me a really long time, so if I really was making like a ringmaster, the lions would have eaten me a long time ago for wasting their time. But anyway, while I was doing that, smoke was flying everywhere, so I continuously had to switch between multi-tasking rolling and dealing poker, and smoking and dealing poker. The thing is, I’ve never really had much of an attention span. Remembering what I’m doing one minute to the next seems like a novel waste of brain power to me, so of course eventually, I found myself crumbling straight into the ashtray. ‘Son of a bitch’ I thought, ‘Seems like such a waste’. Yet in the state I was in, the profound logic of what I was doing kept me doing it for a second longer.

The moral of the story is this: people aren’t gonna necessarily scream “stop you idiot” to stop you when you’re wasting an opportunity.