The luckiest hand you'll ever be dealt is to have someone supporting you unconditionally when your bankroll consists solely of impossible dreams.

The following schoolday passed in monotonous fashion. Joey spent the majority of the day reflecting on how different his life had become recently.

'I've got a job now. Arguably, I've picked up a hobby. It appears I'm well on my way to becoming an upstanding citizen of society. Maybe I should be proud of myself...Then again, my job is working at an underground gambling club ran by mobsters. My hobby, also, is illegal gambling...Whatever, let's call it even. Don't sweat the small stuff.' Joey recognized the importance of a positive attitude.

'Angelo told me to come into work tonight. I wonder if I'll get a chance to play again?' A tiny smile unconsciously sneaked onto his face.

Soon, the school day ended and Joey exited the building. This time he waited out front for several minutes. 'No chauffeur. Looks like Angelo won't be giving me the royal treatment anymore. Must've been part of one of those sign up introductory bonuses to suck me in. Let's hope this gig doesn't come with any pyramid schemes or fine print.'

Joey walked to the poker room. During daytime hours, the streets bustled with pedestrians busy traveling between work and various engagements. On this trek through Queens, Joey couldn't avoid occasional close contact with others. His eyebrows knit as he felt twinges of various emotions, meshed together in a cake by a dozen clumsy chefs each contributing a handful of a random ingredient in careless proportion.

Anxiety, depression, relief, anger, frustration, joy, jealousy, pity...

'Relax. These feelings aren't yours. Remember that.'

By the time he arrived at Angelo's, Johnny was already slightly tired from being forced to sample a potpourri of the human condition. He pressed the buzzer and was let up to the loft. Someone opened the door for him. Entering with drooping head, he looked up to find someone unknown.

There, in front of him, stood a lanky man, around 20 years old, with espresso colored skin and large eyes. He possessed a long face crowned by thick and short, straight black hair.

His most notable accessory was an Entenmann's cake riding a paper plate in his left hand. His right hand wielded a plastic fork whirling back and forth, forming an assembly line from plate to mouth. There was a subtle zen to it, reminiscent of a samurai who had honed his craft through 1000 swings against a breaking waterfall, day in, day out.

The cake shrunk at speed visible to the naked eye, as if undergoing a teleport beam from top-down, passing through the fabric of space-time, with imminent delivery straight to the black hole of this villain's stomach. The glutton was slender as a scarecrow but this world still had many unsolved mysteries.

"Pheyy..you..pf..must bepf Jphoey!" he uttered, painting the floor and nearby wall with cake crumbs like an avant-garde graffiti artist--a visionary ahead of his time.

"You must be cookie monster."

The man suddenly realized he was being rude by eating while talking, yet instead of putting the cake down, he turbo-raged his mouth into warp speed, accelerating the cake's demise. Throughout this grizzly assault on pastry, he maintained unflinching eye contact with Joey, as if warning, 'Don't even think about it. This muh cake.'

Once all traces of the victim were disposed of, "Sorry, I'm Anwar! Was just a bit hungry. Come in."

Joey stepped inside. He saw Amy, Pedro, and Johnny. Angelo was probably in the office. Only Andrew wasn't there. Joey greeted everyone and asked Amy, "Where's Andrew?"

"He's off today." She looked around in both directions, before sweeping the immediate area for hidden listening devices. "Looks like the coast is clear. Don't tell anyone but he's got a game at another club."

"Is he dealing?" Joey questioned.

"No, playing. He said the game there was really good today and he would prefer playing the whole time there, instead of dealing here and only playing a little bit," Amy clarified.

'So there are other clubs and games to play in...' Joey started thinking before his thought bubble was burst by a raspy roar from Angelo.

"Hey! This ain't kindergarten nap time! Don't dawdle around! Get the place ready for the customers!"

"Don't worry about him, he''s just in a bad mood," Amy explained to Joey.

"Why?".

"This is just how he gets at certain times."

"At what times? Like late afternoon?"

"When I cover his office walls in chicken blood. Those times."

...

Joey's eyes closed. His face scrunched up like he ate a lemon. He took large breaths through his open mouth as he repeatedly warned himself internally, 'I can't say it...I shouldn't say it...Don't say it...Please don't say it...AH GODDAMN IT THE SPIRIT IS WILLING BUT THE FLESH IS WEAK!!!'

"...Why?"

"It's troll season."

BOOM! 3 little words blew Joey's upper body back like a shotgun at point-blank range. Parallel to the ground. Arms flailing. Feet dug in. Time decelerated to a creep. Bodily instinct...one...dodge this fatal damage. 

It was the outbreak of bullet-time.

He was the one...Neo

...

A blue pill later and Joey had returned to the blissful ignorance of the Matrix.

"Hey bro, I heard you play pretty well!" Anwar came over and started a conversation with Joey.

"I've just been running good. I'm still just a beginner," Joey responded.

"Haha, that's not what I heard. In any case, as a player, being a dealer as well is pretty good right? Nice to enjoy the advantages."

"Advantages?"

"Such as...the key to poker is information right? As dealers, we get to experience a unique perspective."

"What perspective?"

"The outside perspective man. Look at it like this. When you're in a hand or even just in the game, your mind can get clouded by various things: emotions, overthinking various factors in a hand, etc. Dealers don't have that issue so we can just sit back and observe calmly. That way we collect more info without bias and in poker, information is power.

"Hmm, I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

"No problem bro. Oh look, someone's coming."

The door buzzed and players started to arrive. This time, the game filled up to minimum occupancy much more rapidly than the previous night. The only player Joey recognized was Daron who seemed to be a nightly regular here.

"Joey, you take first shift," Angelo ordered.

As Joey prepared to sit down, the buzzer rang again. Angelo looked at the monitor to see who it was and remotely unlocked the outer door. "Pedro, Marco's here, go open the door for him." This new player really knew how to make an entrance

First to walk inside was a gorgeous 20-something blonde woman in high heels, dressed like she was ready for a night out on the town. Following behind, the man entered, rocking a huge smile. Also in his 20s, tall, with dark curly short hair, sharp facial features, and olive skin. His clothing exuded flash.

"Baby, you promised this is going to be exciting, right?" the woman asked.

"Yea babe of course, you've never seen me play poker. It'll be a show while I break these guys!"

All the players at the table promptly wore various stages of scowls as they heard those words.

The man bought chips and sat with the woman at his side observing. Play went on. As big as he talked, Joey could recognize that Marco had the skill to back it up. He wouldn't be an easy opponent.

'Information is power...' Joey remembered. He considered what Anwar said about the dealer's advantage. 'Ok, let's observe.' While dealing, Joey observed the players, particularly Marco. He couldn't pinpoint the reason yet but he felt Marco had an eagerness to him, as if slightly off balance.

Shortly after, Joey's shift concluded and another dealer took over. The night continued like so. Joey dealt several shifts while continuously observing. Throughout this time, Marco's skill showed through. He already turned 500 into 3000

"Wow! Baby you're invincible!" Marco's woman celebrated.

"Haha you know it, keep watching, there's still money on this table for me to take!"

'I see, so that's what it is,' Joey finally noticed something interesting.

As the night flowed, the number of players was dwindling. Multiple people left due to losing or other reasons. "Hey Angelo, can we get some new blood here? These old timers are boring me to death!" Marco shouted across the poker room.

Angelo frowned, but still looked around. He caught eyes with Joey, "Kid, you want in?"

"Of course." Joey walked over and bought chips, then sat at the table.

"Oho. Is this the fresh fish?" Marco laughed.

Joey frowned. "What's a fish?" he asked. Now several other players began chuckling.

Anwar darted over and answered Joey, "It's a bad player," and immediately sprinted back to the snacks area.

Then he remembered something, raced back to Joey and followed up. "If you don't know then it's you! That's what they say. Bye. good luck."

This time, all of the players laughed at Joey.

Joey snorted. 'Fish huh? We'll see who's gutting who.'

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Author's Note:

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