Jacks or Better

Sitting at the table, he looks around the bar. Yep, same crowd as always. Suddenly, the entry door slams open and in rush a band of men, well along in their drunken stupor. Slamming themselves up against the bar, one of them catches his eye and waits. Getting up out of his chair, he slowly walks over to the man and as his companions begin to become more robust and vigorous in their target, the man quietly says, "Enjoy yourselves, fellas." and walks back towards the table.

Halfway to the table he realizes that he is not alone. There at the table sit a few others, somehow making their way, amid the bustle, to the table unnoticed. Slowly he sits down and sees that something new has been added to the table. A deck of cards.

He turns his eye towards the closest individual and looks the man right in the eye. An understanding ensues and the man takes the deck and slams it in front of him. What else is there to do, but to cut the deck?

As the shuffle continues, the man looks around the table at his new companions. Strange lot. The man realizes that so far, no words have been spoken. "I guess it's my night to have company just like me." he says to himself.

"What are friends for?" says one of the players with a toothy grin.

And without a pause the bartender appears out of nowhere saying, "It's a good night for a game, don't cha know."

A few heads in the bar turn when the quick reply comes, in unison, "Indeed."

Ordering drinks, the players take notice as the rowdy band of merry men pierce the air with their drunken shrieks of boisterous merriment. The smoke filled air, the tables filled with paying customers, the jukebox quietly fulfilling it's role; all these set the tone.

Against a backdrop such as this, what better game to play than poker.

Jacks or better.

Ante up.¹