Mean Gene
Mean Gene
Pittsburgh's most decorated poker blogger, which I admit is like being the best shortstop in Greenland

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My Articles

Presto, the Arlo, & the Hammer
An Online Code of Conduct
The Ethics of Ratholing
"The Professor, the Banker..."
"Ace on the River"

My Columns

Lose the Shades
If You Can't Say Something Nice
Whither the Kicker
The Lady is a Champ?
Covering the WSOP (or not)
Statistics, Luck, and Poker
Poker and New Orleans
Managing a Bankroll
How To Tell A Bad Beat Story
Telling Lies
The Power of Poker Tracker
Advanced Card-Handling

My Greatest Hits

5 Things To Do Before I Die
Cafeteria Nostalgia
Mean Gene's Dubious Dating Tips
Poker and Business?
There's No Such Thing As Luck?
Isabelle, Je t'adore
No Shirt No Shoes No Service
Well, The Food Was Good
Good Morning, Mr. Matusow!
The Weekend of our Discontent, I
The Weekend of our Discontent, II
Books That Left Their Mark
Ode to a Fish Sandwich
Bill Simmons Ain't the Poker Guy
The Sports Guy Still Ain't the Poker Guy
Again, The Media Tackles Poker
Five Years After 9/11
Hitting Pretty Girls in the Face
Sixth-Graders Suck

Fellow Poker Bloggers

Guinness and Poker
Cards Speak
Tao of Poker
Up for Poker
Boy Genius
Chris Halverson
Poker Grub
The Fat Guy
Todd Commish
Poker Works
Bill Rini
Bad Blood
Love and Casino War
Double As
Lion Tales
Paul Phillips
Daniel Negreanu
Poker Nerd
Poker Nation
Poker in Arrears
Human Head
Sound of a Suckout
Chicks With Chips
TP's Table Talk
Royal Poker
This is Not A Poker Blog
Chick and a Chair
Go Be Rude
Poker Cheapskate
Poker & Other Stuff
Seven Two
Musical Poker
WPBT Online
Isabelle Mercier
Cardschat Blog
Amy Calistri
BJ Nemeth
Annie's Blog

Poker Sites

Cardschat Poker Forum
Barstool Sports
Card Player
Internet Texas Hold-Em
Poker Pages


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    Tuesday, September 27, 2005

    Weirdness Before Breakfast

    So I'm driving to work today, headed down River Road which, you guessed it, runs right along the river, Allegheny version. It's not a heavily traveled road, since it sort-of dead-ends and if you want to get into downtown proper you have to do some tight rightys and lefties and before hopping across a bridge. That's where I work, where my company has a big factory, where there are a number of newly-built upscale apartments. What foot traffic you see is usually wearing the same ID badge I wear.

    Except for today. As I approached my parking lot this figure in the distance walked into the middle of the road and started frantically waving his hands. As I got closer I saw that it was an old man wearing dark blue coveralls. When I say he was "old", I mean that he was eighty if he was a day. Maybe older. He actually got into the road, blocking my path. I, unlike the swerving drivers ahead of me, stopped.

    He walked up my passenger door with a big grin on his face. His teeth, which were both false and loose, wobbled in his mouth. I did something smart, for a change--I didn't unlock my door. Instead I rolled down the window and asked what was wrong.

    "I need a ride into town", he said with some difficulty. Still had a big smile on his face. He wore glasses with lenses so thick it was like looking at his eyes through an aquarium. Now, I wasn't going into town. I don't think I was going into town if it'd been a quartet of Swedish airline hostesses late for a pillow fight. I was late for work as it is. So I explained that I wasn't going into town, I was parking right there, and I pointed at the lot.

    He tried the door, found it was still locked, and I explained again that I was sorry but I wasn't going into town. He sort-of slumped, nodded, and suddenly ran behind my car. To try to cut off the SUV barrelling down at us. The moron on the SUV didn't even slow down--he glided left to avoid the old man, gunned the engine to pass me, and disappeared into the distance. I eased forward and cut into my lot. Just as I did, I looked in my rear-view mirror. The old guy (and, to emphasize, he was OLD old) was running--yes, running--toward town. Chances are he could've walked there in 20 minutes, my not giving him a ride really wouldn't have saved him much time. Especially the way he was picking them up and putting them down. Watching him jog pathetically down the road made me feel like a heel.

    It's such a cinematic cliche--the hero (or villain) runs out in the street, flags down a car, gets in, and so begins the chase. I wonder what storyline I failed to advance by not giving him a ride. What the hell was he doing there at 8AM? Why the urgency to get to town? Why the blue jumpsuit, which when I saw him at a distance made me think he worked in one of the factories (though they usually wear all white)? It wouldn't stretch the imagination much to think of him as an escapee from an asylum of some sort, and there is a hospital just up the road...I don't know. No one else I knew saw him. It's a mystery. get this widget Please visit Pokernews site for more poker news, poker strategy articles or poker rules.

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