I had money riding on this game. A whole lot of money.
I’d always been a gambler, yet I was never able to get the hang of cards. I didn’t know how to hold ‘em. Didn’t know how to fold ‘em. I certainly didn’t know when to walk away, and I was (and still am) too out of shape to run.
I looked up from my old fashioned and gestured for the bartender to bring me two shots of Maker’s Mark. One for me, one for Kenny. Bless that man’s soul. I threw them back quickly and asked to switch the channel on the TV above the bar so I could keep an eye on how this whole dance was unfolding. I’d put off watching it as long as I could.
The pool had dwindled to the top ten. My money had been on Colorado since the beginning, and fortunately, I was still in the game. I let out a whoop and then tried to turn it into a cough. This was just one of the many reasons I couldn’t play cards. No poker face.
Despite my inability to mask my emotions, I still thrive as a gambler. I love the work; it’s infinitely more challenging than my former job as a day trader. When I put in my two weeks, I did so knowing I had done everything in my power to prepare for this next chapter, and it all came down to this event. This night.
I spent months researching these competitors. I knew their histories. I had uncovered their weaknesses, and I definitely knew their strengths.
Back straight, hair in place, and a smile so bright you practically had to squint. That stride was so confident. It was the strut of a winner. The host brought the microphone to his mouth, “When Mr. Colorado isn’t snowboarding or running the trails with his labrador retriever, Tank, he can be found volunteering at one of many soup kitchens in and around the Denver metro area.”
There’s my boy. He’s going to make me rich.
An hour later, the winners were being announced. Just as I’d predicted, Delaware got third. Runner up...oh God, could I watch? I had to. Runner up was Hawaii. So close! Just give me what I needed.
It’s not a beauty pageant, by the way. It’s a scholarship competition.
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