What's My Deal?
My luck, it comes and goes.
Last Friday it came more than a movie star in the San Fernando Valley. (Boy, that was an ugly metaphor.) I drew a 7 card straight in No Peek, going above and beyond in winning that hand. I split every high-low pot, it seemed. Playing Utah, one fellow player practically had the pot in his hands with a straight flush, till I broke out my five deuces.
Then I won Liar's, too, not even losing one of my stacks in the process. An unsullied lucky liar I was.
But as the night progressed I found the perfect way not to be a bad winner. First, always ante for the table when you're on a run. Second, convince yourself everyone there, friends all (it's that sort of game), knows you've got something horribly wrong with you and they're letting you win to be nice. As in last nice. Poor guy, give him one last poker thrill. That they'd need to be Ricky Jay with the dealing skills doesn't matter; I'm still sort of convinced it was all a plot. But luck's like that, and I'd rather assume I have it in friends than in spades.