So yesterday I had a bad day. Well, not a bad day since I made a little. Which is a pleasant change of pace acutally. But what was bad was that I brought my sunglasses into the Mirage.


During a break, I walked directly to the Sportsbook to check out the big board. Hmmm, 7-1 on the chalk to win a golf tournament isn't very attractive. I start to walk back and realize that my glasses must've dropped off my belt. I look along my very limited path to and from the poker room. No dice. $100 Nike shades down the tubes, ugh what a beat. Like I said. Bad day.


Long story short, I go to the mall and buy 2 new pair of shades for $15. Things are looking up.


Fast forward to today.


I like my new shades. I decide that today I am wearing them at the poker table. This is something I never do since I feel like a dork when I wear shades at the table. It's a bit played out. But today, I am gonna sport my new shades. Yes indeedy. I am lookin sharp!


So I arrive at the Horseshoe and wait to get into the 10-20. I finally do and I make a joke at myself to the regulars. I tell them that I don't care how ridiculous I look, I'm wearing my new sunglasses. Tomorrow, I joke, I'll bring in a CD player and headphones to complete the poker dork look. Yes, I was wearing a baseball cap.


Then it gets fun.


After a while, I talk the player next to me into getting her shades. Now there are two of us, I joke. You can't possibly stop us now!


Then, a few others locals say they don't want to be left out and put on their shades. Now 4 of the 10 are wearing sunglasses.


The 10 seat now swings the balance of power declaring "I'm not about to be outdone" and grabs his glasses.


Thats 5 of the 10. I declare "I like our team, its like shirts and skins. We are gonna kick all of you non sunglass asses!"


Now the 5 seat takes a beat. He walks. He comes back. He has, yup, you guessed it, he has sunglasses.


6 of 10.


But we aren't done. I thought we were, but we weren't. The 4 remaining players were old white guys who probabaly don't even own sunglasses. One of these old guys was George. Horseshoe regulars know George. Older white guy with a bad hip. Usually wears a Yankees cap. Loose. Nice as can be. Really one of the most pleasant people you would want to play with.


George disappears for a round. This is unusual since he just sat down. I wonder out loud where the heck he could be. He's slow, he can't have gone far.


A few minutes later, George comes back.


He sits down.


He smiles.


He opens a bag from the gift shop.


He pulls out his new sunglasses.


And puts them on.


As the table roars its approval, I declare that George has more cool in his pinkie than I have in my entire body. One of the players agrees with me and follows up with, "This has got to be the coolest table in town."


Awful hard to argue with that.