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“Don’t use them anymore, for the reasons I just told you.” Gripping the cards, I give them a one-handed shuffle; not something I do at the casino, but it’s a fun party trick. Reminding myself this is neither fun nor a party, I announce, “Let’s begin our lesson.”
“Sure,” he says, loosening his tie; the action draws my attention to his hidden neck tat. Now that I really look at Fabio, I don’t see how I could have ever confused him for a white-collar guy. There’s a hardness about him; danger and secrets brimming just below the polished surface.
“This is my poker philosophy in a nutshell,” I announce, steering my thoughts back on track. “And I’m in no way saying this is the right way, or the only way to approach play. Anyone tells you theirs is the only way, be highly skeptical,” I warn him.
“Fair enough,” he tells me.
“Rule one: know when to fold. That often means leaving your ego at the table—along with a big pile of cash. You might want to beat a guy so bad you can taste it, but if you don’t have the cards, don’t throw good money after bad. This rule is unbelievably important, so let me say it a different way: there is no shame in folding.”
“No shame in folding,” he parrots.
I nod. “Rule two: only gamble with money you can afford to lose.” Of course, if everyone followed this rule, casinos would be out of business, and I’d be out of a job.
“That won’t be a problem.”
“Good. Rule number three: always keep a bluff in your back pocket. You might have a shit hand, but you never let your opponents know it.”
“But what about rule one, knowing when to fold?” he challenges.
“You have to decide when to bluff versus when to fold,” I tell him.
“I’ll know this how?” he asks, eyebrow raised.
“Poker is an art form, not a science, so I don’t know how to answer that question,” I tell him honestly. “It’s the luck of the draw. It’s trusting your skill. It’s listening to your gut. It’s ignoring your ego. It’s confidence. It’s humility. It’s a hell of a hand. It’s a shit hand.”
Fabio narrows his eyes. “This sounds like a bunch of woo-woo shit.”
“Serious poker players are some of the most woo-woo superstitious people you’ll ever meet,” I inform him.
“What’s your good luck charm?”
“I’m a dealer, not a player,” I say dismissively.
“Four-leaf clover,” he guesses.
Rolling my eyes, I say, “Not even close.”
“So you do have a good luck charm,” he says smugly.
Ignoring his comment, I continue, “Rule four: patience is king. Forget what you’ve seen in the movies about taking a seat at the table, winning big, and then cashing out and walking away with people cheering. ‘Hit and run’ play doesn’t happen. Ultimately, it comes down to a winning session, and that’s about putting in the time at the table while remembering all the rules. Do you remember the rules?” I ask to see if he’s been paying attention.
“Know when to fold; only gamble with money you can afford to lose; always keep a bluff in your back pocket; and patience is king.” He counts them off with his fingers.
“Good job,” I tell him.
“What made you get into dealing?” Fabio asks.
“Numbers were always my thing, but I hated school. Dealing is a way for me to make a decent living without needing a college degree.” I don’t reveal something more personal—that my dad was big into cards, and I learned everything I could as a kid so he’d pay attention to me.
I spread the cards out in a line before lifting the one on my right and causing the cards to ribbon in one long wave as I move my finger down the line. “Now you’re just showboating.” He chuckles.
“Guilty.” Smiling, I let the cards drop before scooping them up and giving them a proper shuffle. “We’re going to start with five-card draw. Everyone loves Texas Hold’em, but I think five-card draw is a classic and should be learned first. Do you know anything about hand rankings?”
“No,” he admits.
“How does a made man know nothing about poker?” I marvel; he just shrugs. I go over the different rankings—royal flush; straight flush; four of a kind—but he cuts me off before I can make it down the list.
“We gonna talk theory all night, or are we gonna play?” he challenges.
