I recently sat in on a tournament at a casino resort. The game was fun until I was knocked out in 11th place; the dreaded bubble boy. It was unfortunate: I didn’t make the final table, earned no bragging rights and, most importantly, was out of the money. But it got worse. I walked over to the Sunday Lobster buffet and it had closed. Quadruple whammy. Like the blues song says, “If it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all.”
By Howard Hian