Hobby and I and our friends, with the exception of our chef Patsy Fortuna, flew from Cabo San Lucas back to Los Angeles after limping into port on the damaged Lazybuns. Patsy, who enjoyed being an oceangoing chef, connected with the skipper of another yacht and signed on. Mike and crew would secure Lazybuns then sail her to the Ensenada shipyard for repair.
It was late when we got into L.A. Our gang was bedraggled and anxious to head for home. Since Hobby's home is usually on Lazybuns, he came back to my condo with me.
"Joe, I'm too bushed to do anything but hit the sack right now. In the morning I'll get organized to go to the villa in Palm Springs."
"See you in the morning," I said as I headed for my bed. As I lie there unable to sleep I thought of our aborted world cruise. It started out great as our lady friends joined us for the first leg of the cruise to Cabo. After a fun weekend there, we guys sailed off on the ocean blue for a great adventure, but it was not to be. A couple hours out of port we were set upon by a pair of pirate's boats who wanted to commandeer Lazybuns. Under Hobby's able command, we fought off one boat and crashed into the other, cutting its hull in two. The collision also took its toll on Lazybuns, which suffered a deep gash in the bow.
"Do you want to go to Palm Springs with me, Joe," Hobby asked the next morning.
"I might as well, Hobby, I don't have anything else planned for the next few weeks."
"Yeah," Hobby said sadly, "me either."
After I packed a bag we walked to Hobby's garage, which was nearby, to get his Rolls. "Do you have anything in mind once we get to Palm Springs, Hobby?"
"Yeah, I've never been happy with the game room in the villa. I'm going to do some renovating. How do I start?"
"Maybe check the yellow pages under contractors/remodelers?"
"Gee, Joe, I thought you'd have something more original."
"Actually, I was being facetious. What's your idea?"
"I'm going to call Linda, my interior decorator."
"Why would you do that? She did a bad job in the first place."
"I know, but I like her."
We were busy the first day in Palm Springs shaking out the cobwebs and putting in provisions. I cried over a few cases of Corona that spoiled, good thing booze doesn't. Hobby was serious about doing something with his game room, but couldn't find his decorator-which was a good thing.
"Come on, Joe. I need some ideas."
"Do you have the list of guys we played poker with last season?"
"It's in the desk." Hobby's not a deep thinker, but he has many good points, one being he is organized. I found the list and began making calls.
"You doing any good, Joe?"
"Yeah, I got us invitations to play poker tonight at Red Murray's place, and two recommendations for your game room."
"Great! It's about time we get serious with poker again. The game room can wait. I hope you told him we'll be there."
Red has a big old Spanish-style place backed up against the mountains not far from the center of downtown Palm Springs. He's a portly seventy-year-old who loves to play poker, especially hold 'em. If you come to Red's you better like hold 'em and be well-heeled. I barely qualified for the latter and had to play conservatively, but I'd done well in his games last year.
Hobby and I knew a couple of the players. Two of the fresh faces were ladies, twins, probably in their thirties. I don't know why, but I had misgivings about them. The other three players were older guys who came for the season. After a few hands I figured them for patsies. The thing about home games is they are more 'social,' which has its good points and bad. Frankly, I like less small talk and more poker, but being a writer, I admire good repartee. The girls had a regular act, one fed straight lines and the other said funny stuff.
After a couple hours, when we took a break, it was clear who the winners and losers were. I'd lost, but not badly. Hobby dropped what for me would be a bundle, but he was oblivious to it. One of the twins was the big winner, up more than ten grand. I'd noticed that often one or the other of the twins would be dealing when they did their comedy act. I didn't see anything strange, but then I wasn't watching that closely. After our chow break I decided I'd be more attentive.
It didn't take long to spot their gimmick once I started looking for it. They both wore a lot of fashion jewelry, necklaces, bracelets, and multiple rings ... one of which was a shiner. They were cleverly designed. What looked like a large cabochon on the front side had a mirror the size of a dime on the palm side. While everyone was engrossed in the comedy act, the twin dealing read the cards she dealt. It was time to bring the curtain down on this act.
I spoke loudly, "Hobby, remember that guy we caught using a shiner?"
"Yeah, I broke his finger."
The table was silent, wondering what the hell was going on. "What if it was a her?" I said as I grabbed the hand of the cheater next to me. Hobby grabbed the hand of her twin. There was a chorus of surprised reactions as I showed the shiner.
Someone said, "You gonna break their fingers?"
"No, we're not going to break any fingers, but hold them right there," Red said.
He took pictures with a digital camera and said, "I'm putting these on the Internet and now we're going to redistribute your winnings."
"You can't do that," one protested.
"The hell I can't. One more word out of you and I'm calling the cops. You better take your comedy act on the road; you're done in Palm Springs."
Poker's not always what you think it is.
Write to author David Valley at: dvalley1@san.rr.com
