My World Series came to an end Friday night. Three days of being card-dead and chip-challenged climaxed with a classic cold-decking. My pocket queens ran into pocket aces and it was over. Luckily, the money bubble had long since passed and I earned $19,050 for my efforts.
Actually getting my hands on the check was about as hard as earning the damn thing. Harrah's apparently has recruited an accounting department straight out of Dickens and put them in charge of the series payouts. No fewer than six people shuffled the paperwork that entitled me to some money, including a mouse-voiced woman wielding a clipboard overflowing with tax forms. I expected to see monocle-wearing homunculi dipping quills in inkwells behind the cage, but alas they were normal-looking modern humans.
Took the check to the bank to deposit it today. I just love teller chit-chat. An approximate log, as she is processing the check.
"Just get into town?"
"No, actually leaving. Just finished the World Series."
"Oh really? Did you do all right?"
(... I point to the check after long pause)
Congratulations - The San Francisco Kid returns with "beer money" for the Lunatic Fringe.
Posted by: Jim Sachs | August 17, 2006 at 03:42 AM