May 7th, Milwaukee: I wake up to sound of Jenson slamming the door to his bedroom. Ah shit, he’s pissed. I look at the clock, it reads slightly past 8am. Guess I’d better go out and sooth this situation over.

I go out to the living room and find Jenson on the couch with a less than pleased look on his face.
“So yea, you’re a bit pissed at me about this huh?”
“Yea dude.”
“Dude I am really sorry, I had no idea I was even going to end up in Milwaukee yesterday. I’ll have all the sheets, blanked, and pillow cases professionally cleaned this morning and it it’ll all be taken care of.”
“Yea okay thanks. I just really was not expecting to come home to two naked people in my bed.”
“Yea, my bad. These things happen. Anyway, it’ll all be sorted and won’t happen again.”
“Okay then, well I gotta go to work.”
“Alright man, have a good one. See you tonight.”

I return to the bed and we lay there trying to fall back asleep for a while. Eventually we both realize it’s hopeless and decide to get some breakfast and see a movie instead. We get dressed and walk over to a nice breakfast place on Downer Street. The weather is perfect so we sit outside in the sun. I order an omelet that ends up being big enough to feed Somalia. Ah, for American portions again. We discuss what movie to see and decide since none of us have seen Wolverine and it won’t be hard to find a theatre playing it that’s what we’ll see, even though the reviews have been pretty mediocre.

We drive to Mayfair mall to catch an 11:30am showing of the film. Much like the critics said the film is full of absurd plot holes and very little on the side of sensible character development, but then I never really expected too much in terms of depth from a popcorn movie. It’s got Hugh Jackman ripped as shit running around threatening to stab people with his claws and occasionally calling someone Bub so I’m mostly happy, plus they finally introduced Gambit to the series, who is by far the coolest of the X-men in my opinion though it was strange that the actor playing him decided to use a drawling Southern accent about half the time and no accent the other half.


When the movie finishes we drive back to the North East side and park in front of Jenson’s apartment. It turns out we’ve accidentally locked ourselves out as I’ve forgotten that I gave Jenson his key back this morning so we’re stranded in the heat with neither of us having showered. I suggest we walk over to Whole Foods where my friend Derek is almost certainly working and asking if we can borrow his apartment for a quick shower. During our walk I’m walking past some young bearded guy who stops dead in his tracks and says
“Tony!”
I look at him closely. Behind the beard, glasses, and hat is my old friend Joel Porter. Throughout middle and high school we hung out all the time, but I haven’t seen him in what must be three years now.
“Jesus Christ! Joel! What the fuck dude I can barely tell it’s you.”
“Yea, I’ve got a bit of a new look going.”
We stand around catching up for a bit and then I explain my predicament to him. He offers his shower and I tell him I’ll buy him and his roommate Bill (another childhood friend) lunch afterward and then we’ll kick it for the rest of the day since Martina has to go back to Madison. He takes us up to his apartment, which conveniently turns out to be in the same building and on the same floor as Jenson’s. I say hello to Bill and catch up with him for a while before Joel hands us a couple towels and shows us into the bathroom.

In the shower Martina and I naturally start washing each other, which leads to making out, which leads to my picking her up and supporting her with my arms underneath so we can have sex without physically banging into anything. I also remember to shampoo and condition (yes it was a shampoo and conditioner in one.)

We dry off and put our clothes back on. I reenter the living room and discuss with Joel and Bill what we should do over the course of our day. They say they are for sure going to the new Star Trek movie tonight, which everyone including Martina says is very awesome, so I tell them I am very down for it. We decide to start by having lunch at a nearby café, then going into the city and having a cigar at Uhle’s, then returning to the North East side to catch the movie, and finally going out to a party at a friend’s place tonight. Martina joins us in the living room and says she needs to head out, so we walk her over to her car and I kiss her goodbye
“Let’s do this again soon” I say
“Absolutely” she returns.

Joel, Bill and I walk over to a nearby restaurant I used to spend my life at during college and order lunch. We have roughly 10 years of catching up to do between the three of us, though as is the case with most college students their stories are a more natural progression of finishing school, thinking over career options, and having a long term girlfriend. I guess we’ve come a long way since the days of having bottle rocket wars in the park near Joel’s house or staying up until 3am watching a special on strippers on HBO, though on second thought if only discussing my maturity level I’d say I haven’t grown at all because that stuff sounds like an ass load of fun right fucking now. Note to self; purchase bottle rockets and hire strippers to shoot them. Sweet, now we’re taking things to the next level.

After lunch we drive down to Uhle’s and I endure the inevitable barrage of shit talking from Tamara and Trish behind the desk, especially when I have the audacity to suggest a cigar to Joel. As a result of Joel’s girlfriend Alex having just got off work we are forced to make a very quick exit, so we smoke our cigars while walking through the streets of downtown Milwaukee, which if you’ve been there you’d know that is a very strange sight.

When we reach Alex on the North East side we immediately depart for the movie. I have lost my latest pair of crappy aviator sunglasses, but there is a pair in the car. Alex says she never wears them anymore so I offer to give her the $10 she paid for them on the spot. She tells me I can just have them. I tell her if we go out for drinks she won’t be paying for any of hers and jam the sunglasses in my shirt.

The theatre we’re seeing the movie at is a very grand looking old school place right off of North Street, and prior to the movie starting there is a man playing an organ at right hand side of the stage. As the curtains go up he slowly sinks down into the stage and everyone applauds. As for the movie itself, well it kicks more ass than a Chuck Norris roundhouse kick. Captain Kirk either hits on or punches half the characters in the film and it’s visually stunning throughout. The dialogue is sharp and witty, and for a popcorn movie there isn’t much in the way of glaring or disturbing plot holes.

After the film I’m dropped off at Jenson’s apartment as the three of them have decided not to come to the party. Upstairs Jenson tells me he would prefer if I get a hotel room given the events of last night so I pack up my shit and walk over to the party a few blocks away. It’s not a full blown college party type thing, more a get together of 20 or so friends with mild drinking and smoking. As always there are quite a few people there I haven’t seen in years so we do the whole catch up thing and I do my best to explain what in the hell it is I do. I use the computer to book a hotel and when things start dying down a friend who lives in the area gives me a ride over and drops me off.

May 6th, Madison: I wake up around noon in my bed. I go downstairs and ask my dad if he’d like to play some tennis, which he obviously does. I grab a small breakfast and throw on some gym clothes, and then we walk over to the courts in the park near our house.

During the match I notice that I’m feeling considerably more tired and sluggish than anticipated, and my dad is crushing me game after game. I guess I got much less sleep than I thought because I’ve got zero hustle and just feel like falling asleep. Eventually I ask my dad if we can just play another time and we walk home. I go upstairs to my bed and pass out for a while.

I wake up again around 5pm. I text a girl I knew from back in high school named Martina (name changed) about catching up in the evening. I’m absolutely starving so I suggest she meet me at a local wine bar and tapas restaurant, Eno Vino. Martina used to have a crush on me back in high school when she was a freshman and I was a senior, though I stayed away due to the age difference. She was rather forward for a 14 year old girl, occasionally stopping me in the hallways to suck my finger or say something like “When I turn 18 you’d better fuck me for my birthday present.” I would often steal a line from Quagmire’s book and shoot back with “Sweet statutory!” Having not seen her for so many years I’m uncertain as to what mentality she comes into are meeting today with though.

I walk over to the restaurant and order myself a glass of wine. Martina messages to say she’ll be late, which is fine because it’s a gorgeous day out and I’ve brought my Ipod. I go sit outside and put my feet up in another chair and down a glass of wine while I listen to Kings of Leon. During my second glass of wine the Ipod runs out of batteries, though it turns out to be a good thing because a moment later an attractive blonde woman in her late 20’s steps outside from the restaurant and remarks in my direction
“It’s too nice to be cooped up inside.”
This time I have my wits about me and don’t fuck up a girl opening me
“You’re right; it’s a bit dark in there for a day like today. Better to sit out and enjoy it.”
“Do you work around here?” she asks
“Oh no, hell I don’t even live around here anymore.”
“Really? Where do you live?”
We go on to discuss Australia, which leads into what I do for a living, which leads into a discussion of Las Vegas, which leads to her telling me she was recently there and hanging out with the Maloof brothers (who own the Palms casino) and then takes out her business card and tells me to make sure I add her on Facebook so I can look over the pictures of her trip. A friend of hers joins her outside and my involvement in the conversation tapers off, and not long after Martina shows up. I walk over and greet her with a hug then we walk inside. She’s looking damn good at 20.

Inside the restaurant I ask for a table for two and they fortunately give us a booth. Quick note on date situations in restaurants or bars with tables; always try to get a booth so you can sit next to the girl instead of across from her. This is because in order to advance things in a date way and not a friend’s way you need to be able to playfully touch the girl, and you can’t do that from across the table where any touching is a giant and noticeable gesture. Being in the booth will also allow you to gauge how you’re doing from her body language as well, as if she’s interested and enjoying herself she’ll angle body and her legs towards you (often making contact and not pulling back) whereas if you sit across the table from her she’s naturally forced to face you full on but there are fewer indicators to read interest level off of.

Catching up with Martina is a real pleasure. She’s a really fun and easy going girl with a great sense of humor and a wit that can keep up in conversation very well. She’s always been an outgoing girl who is quick to compliment, and today is no different as she tells me how cute I’m looking these days. She offers so many compliments in fact that I feel a little bad for not being able to keep up, though I do my best. We discuss the people we used to know, our old teachers, our respective failed attempts at a relationship and then the clincher, she mentions that in her spare time she occasionally slings a bit of grass to make ends meet
“Holy crap! You must love that show Weeds!” I say
“You know it.”
“Too bad it got all emo and about her issues and lost its focus on the antics of the brother and Kevin Nealon. Those guys kill me. So…can you get me some weed?”
“Of course! I don’t have any at the moment but I know plenty of people who do. Let me send a couple texts.”
“Sweeeeeeeeeet” I say like Peter Griffen.

After dinner we go over to the apartment I’ve rented to chill out for a bit and meet a friend of hers who just broke up with her boyfriend and feels the need to vent. The three of us hang around and let her friend, Andrea, unload her issues while we smile and nod and I say stuff like
“No, your boyfriend didn’t stop sleeping with you cause you’re ugly, he just got bored” every now and then. Eventually she wears herself out and we drive her over to her apartment and drop her off. Then we go to Martina’s place of work to meet someone who has some weed and she (since when do so many girls deal?) sells me a small bag. I thank her very kindly and ask for her number just in case anyone else in the Wisconsin area needs to get hooked up.

When we leave Martina drives us over to her apartment, which she shares with an ex-boyfriend that she broke up with several months ago but is still obsessed with her, plus her mother and sister. The ex is gone but the mother and sister are there, and I spend some time politely chatting with the mother, who seems very nice. Martina takes me into her room and pulls out a piece and says I should sample the weed I just got
“What the hell? Right here in your room with your mom and sister outside?”
“Oh it’s cool, my mom is totally aware and used to it. I put her and my sister up here for free, so she doesn’t mind at all.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep, now smoke this!”
“Yessum”

I take the piece and smoke the bowl of what turns out to be pretty respectable stuff. Martina says she needs to drive to Milwaukee tonight to hang out with an ex-boyfriend that she is still platonic friends with and offers me a ride if I need to go over there. I was planning on going tomorrow so I decide to just take the ride. We stop over at my house and I grab a few things before we start the roughly 90 minute drive to Milwaukee.

In the car our conversation is very flirtatious and humorous, though I suppose most things would be funny considering how baked I am. The ex-boyfriend in Milwaukee does me a favor by being an annoying nag and texting Martina half a dozen times about where she is and why she hasn’t arrived yet. She complains about what a harassing dick he is and says that she is having much more fun hanging out with me. I tell her that she should keep doing it then, that we’ll grab some food in Milwaukee as I seem to have developed an appetite again and then we’ll hang with my friends at their apartment. She tells me she’d like that.

When we arrive in Milwaukee we go to a Mexican place on the North East side near the University. I make sure to get a booth again and she is being very touchy-feely and flirty. She mentions how much she loves playing X-box360 and I go absolutely ape shit, almost as ape shit as when she then mentions she’s dated two girls before
“Holy fucking shit that is the most awesome thing ever!!!” I practically yell between laughs
“Wow, that’s definitely the best reaction I’ve ever got to telling anyone that!”
“What? What the fuck?! That’s one of the coolest things ever to hear from a girl. Please, do elaborate, preferably in considerable detail.”

She tells me all about her two girlfriends, and how the ex she lives with was very uncomfortable with it all. I’ve spoken to a number of guys lately who say they find the idea of a girlfriend having ex-girlfriends uncomfortable, and even a number of guys who said they’re interested in a threesome but not with a girl who was their full blown girlfriend, that sharing her even with another girl was somehow uncomfortable. In my book that shit does not compute, but I suppose to each their own really.

We leave the restaurant and drive over to my friend Jenson’s apartment. I have to call him to get the key from him as he’s over at his girlfriends, though fortunately her place is only a block away. When I go grab the keys from him I say
“I’ve got a girl with me by the way”
“You son of a bitch” he says dryly. I assume that he is joking.

I walk back to the apartment and let us in. When we get upstairs we find that Rufio is not around, and nor is his Xbox
“Well let’s just roll up a joint then” she says
“You don’t have to twist my arm.”

I take out the bag and grind up some of the weed on the counter the best I can. I take out the rolling papers I got when we stopped off at a convenience store and use a business card someone gave me to construct a filter. When it’s all said and done the joint appears to be semi respectable but nowhere close to hall of fame. I take it over to the couch and sit next to her, then offer it to her to hit first. She lights it up and takes a drag, then hands it over to me. I do the same and then hand it back to her. We are sitting very close. As she takes her drag I say
“Shotgun me”
She leans over and I start kissing her while she blows weed smoke down my throat. I eventually pull back from making out and exhale. She hands the joint back to me and I take a hit and do the same to her. We go back and forth taking hits and trading make out shotguns for the rest of the joint. When it’s finished I take it to the sink, drench it in water, and then toss it out. I go sit back down next to her on the couch and ask “Where were we?” before leaning in to kiss her. We start making out hard when suddenly the lock on the door starts jiggling. I pull off her and am seated next to her with a stupid grin on my face when Rufio walks through the door with a girl on his arm. We both start laughing really hard and have a stilted conversation
“Oh hey man, what’s up?” I ask
“Oh shit dude…I…I didn’t know you were here.”
“Yea…yea kinda wound up here last minute. Didn’t even know I was coming. Ya know?”
“Yea…yea of course. So anyway we were just heading out.”
*Much laughter*
“Okay dude, great, see you later buddy.”
“See ya.”

We instantly go back to making out and soon clothes start coming off. Eventually we’re both naked and dry humping and I say “I’m getting a condom now; let’s take this in the bedroom.” Luckily I had the good sense to place one in my wallet before the date so there is no awkward condom search pause. I go into the bedroom and we start having extremely enthusiastic sex on the bed. Sex on weed is always a very lucid sensation, but it also dulls the hell out of my sensitivity. She talks a fair bit during, and while I normally have difficulty shutting up I find sex is one of the few times I have little to say. Either way I decide to try and keep up a little and when she’s getting close I start yelling “GET THERE! GEEEEEEEEEEEEEET THEEEEEEEEEEERE!” like I’m calling for a draw right before she orgasms underneath me. Due to the deluded sensitivity it takes over an hour of energetic screwing before I can finish, and we then lay there exhausted and sweaty for a while trying to collect ourselves.

“God, I am really blazed here” I eventually say
“Yea, me too.”
“Catching up with you definitely doesn’t suck Maritna, at least not as much as I thought it would.”

I open up my computer and turn on some music. We lie around cuddling and talking for quite some time before dozing off.

May 5th, Milwaukee: I wake up in Jenson’s apartment around noon. Jenson is nowhere to be seen but Rufio is outside in the living room playing Counter-Strike on his computer. I make small talk then take a shower and get dressed.

I take a bus into the city and stop off at Uhle’s to chat with Dave and Tamara over coffee. I walk down to the Badger bus depot and board the bus for Madison. I sit around and write for a while, then lay my head back and try to sleep for a while. It doesn’t work particularly well.

When we arrive in Madison my parents are there to pick me up. They drive me back to the West side and I steal their car to head to the gym for a while. I’m messaging with Isabelle back and forth about our date, and we agree that I’ll pick her up around 7:30 near her college. When I return to the house I tool around on the computer looking for an apartment with a kitchen in it around the center of Madison, but it turns out the only thing available is on the West side. I book an apartment for a few nights then take a car over to her college to pick her up.

When I get there I have difficulty finding her house and wind up parking in some random persons drive way then run around the street looking for the address, which seems to not exist. I call her and explain the situation, and it turns out that I had driven past her house numerous times since it was on the far end of the street. Unfortunately when I pull up she’s waiting outside and hops in the car. This is not a preference in being able to walk up to the door as then I can greet her with an appropriate hug and kiss on the cheek, where as her getting in the car is a more awkward beginning.

Conversation is smooth and playful as we drive over to the apartment. She’s a bit stressed out from having to study for finals all week, so hopefully the date allows her to unwind a bit. When we arrive at the apartment I start setting out everything I need to cook and begin preparing things
“Do you need any help with anything?” she asks
“Nope, my job is to bring the food yours is to bring the conversation remember?”

I offer her a drink; beer, wine, or milk. She goes for milk. I take a beer. She says she doesn’t like beer. Ah fuck.

We seem to have quite a bit in common, but one major issue is that our senses of humor don’t seem very compatible, which is a pretty mandatory condition for me when hanging out with a woman. That’s not to say she has a bad sense of humor, simply one a little more reserved and conservative than my own. Most of all though, when I discuss with her that I’m constantly traveling and am not going to be around for a while there seems to be a fairly noticeable change in her attitude from date to friend zone.


After dinner we go for a walk and stroll along arm in arm, but when I talk to her about what she’s looking for in a man she uses terms like “not afraid of commitment” and “doesn’t do drugs” which are not entirely descriptive of myself. I never lie about what I am to a date, and when I tell her what my life style is like she does not seem thrilled. When we arrive back at the apartment and we sit down to watch Family Guy and I lay my arm around her she goes rigid and does not lean in. Yep, friend zone time. I get up to get some strawberries and sit back down in my own personal space and munch down while zoning out and watching the show. I give up attempting to be charming.

Eventually I say that I’m getting tired and should drive her back. We make the short trip back to her house and we do the friends hug and discuss what a “nice” evening we both had. I go back to my house and change into gym clothes. Sure it’s midnight, but what better way to get over the annoyance of a failed date than by destroying myself in the gym for the rest of the night?

When I get to the gym I notice the cute Asian girl behind the counter, though simply say “Hi” and check in. I warm up with some basketball then go into the weight room, which is completely abandoned. I hit weights for about an hour, then go over to the track and run a mile while timing myself. I finish in slightly more than seven minutes; not bad considering I’ve always been a terrible runner.

I go upstairs to the aerobic room which has over 100 machines of cardio equipment, all unmanned except for one treadmill with the cute girl from the front desk on it. I jump on a bike and put it to level 8 and start riding as fast as I can. At some point I look back and see that the front desk girl is now stretching on the mats about 20 feet away. We are literally the only two people in the gym so I take off my headphones, lean back and say loudly to her
“Hey!”
She looks up at me curiously and I add
“Get a life” with a big smile. Hopefully she’s clever and realizes that I’m making fun of myself and not her, though it’s a long shot.
“What are you talking about?” she says at me in a fairly annoyed tone
“Heh, I’m just messing with you.”
I put in my headphones and go back to my bike. I don’t leave the gym until 2am.

May 4th, Madison: I wake up a little before noon. I immediately throw on some shorts, socks, and tennis shoes and go running around my neighborhood. Then I come home, eat breakfast, and challenge my dad to some more tennis. This time he beats me pretty solidly, and I’m feeling more sluggish today than in our previous match and he’s beating me soundly
“My legs are tired from the working out and running. That’s going to be my excuse for the day.”

We don’t get to play long because I need to be dropped off at the bus station. When we finish I grab a quick sandwich then take a shower and get changed into a suit. My dad drives me over to the bus station in the city and I purchase a return ticket for Milwaukee and back. The ride to from Madison to the center of Milwaukee is only about 100 minutes, which I mostly use to write or occasionally stare out the window while listening to music. May is a very nice month in Wisconsin.

When we arrive in Milwaukee I get off the bus at the city station and make the five block walk over to Uhle’s cigar shop on Wisconsin street. They are having an Ashton tasting today, which is one of my favorite lines of cigars. The place is quite packed compared to normal, and Tamara gives me the ticket she reserved for me. The tasting is $10 and you get an excellent cigar, walnuts, chocolate, and scotch, which I pass on because the slightest contact with brown liquor leads to instant vomiting no matter my sobriety level (so when I refuse whatever brown drink or shot you offer me in Vegas don’t get too offended.)

I hang around smoking my giant cigar flirting with Tamara and chatting to her coworker Dave, who is a movie enthusiast like me. We run down what promises to kick ass this summer, with both of us expecting Public Enemy with Johnny Depp, Christian Bale, and directed by Michael Mann to kick major ass. It’s about John Dillinger, who if you know your history was one of the most inventive and stylish bank robbers of all time that once cut a bar of soap into the shape of a gun, put black shoe polish all over it, and escaped from jail by mugging the guard with it. He was the kind of guy who was always going to get himself killed thanks to a woman. If you’ve ever heard stories of women in red being dangerous, it’s because of Dillinger.

Late into the tasting my friends Rob and Joe come to meet me at the store. Rob was my very first backer in poker, a friend I met through propping online when we both realized we were on the North East Side of Milwaukee. We hit it off very well and the last semester I ever did at Milwaukee I was living at his apartment. He and Joe now own and operate www.rakebacknation.com and www.neverbeg.com, the latter of which they have turned into the second largest poker forum on the internet in terms of traffic, a huge accomplishment. I buy them both a tasting ticket and we hang around the store catching up and giving ourselves and each other cancer. They have bought season tickets to the Brewers home games right behind third base and they offer to take me whenever’s convenient. I offer to wear a patch for their staking site throughout the WSOP for free. We all get along very well.

Once we finish our cigar we take a drive over near Brady Street for a burger at an Irish pub and restaurant. I am disappointed there’s not a town drunk inside. The burger kicks serious ass, as do the Brewers who are on TV. I have missed baseball and American sports culture in general. It’s not that Australia doesn’t have a great sports culture, it’s simply that they’re not the sports I grew up with and therefore I feel no legitimate alliance to any team or franchise. I’ve been to a few Australian footy games, but my most enthusiastic moments during those were shouting “COVER THE SPREAD!!!” near the end of the game. They did.

After the Irish pub we drive over to a bar next to Uhle’s where I’m supposed to meet Tamara to get the bag I obviously left in the store back. When we get there I find that I’ve missed her and the bartender is holding it waiting for me. We sit down to have a drink and my friends start rattling off names of big name poker players and asking if they’re a nice guy, scumbag, or douchebag in my experience. Not surprisingly, the scumbag/douchebag list winds up being considerably longer than the nice guy list.

They drop me at my friend Jenson’s apartment after the drink. Jenson and I decide to take a night walk like we used to and just chat about things. He discusses the difficulty of trying to figure out whether he should continue to pursue his film career or instead go back to school to do accounting. I’ve found this in a lot of my friends since returning home; they’ve finished college and entered a career path only to find it to be fairly lackluster compared to what they’d hoped or imagined. As a guy with no experience in the legitimate world since he was 18 I feel odd offering them any advice, though I normally state that “You should do whatever the fuck you feel like. If you hate your shit quit and find something else to do while you’re still young and don’t have any major responsibilities.” Easy for me to say I suppose.

May 3rd, Madison: I wake up at 11am. I have made plans to go to lunch with my dad and some of his old coworkers from before he retired last year. We’re to meet them as well as my little brother in the city but as I’m getting ready I get the sense that I have probably woken up slightly too late.

We drive into the city and park near the capitol. We walk over to the Japanese restaurant we’re supposed to meet at and find it closed and ourselves about 10 minutes late. Neither of us brought a phone and neither the coworkers nor my brother are anywhere to be seen. We get a coffee next door and wait around a while but nobody shows. We get lunch elsewhere, then stop by and visit my dad’s old place of work.

My dad has been playing a lot of tennis lately and I played competitively until I was 16. I used to play for my high school but when I was busted by my mom at my very first drinking party during homecoming of my sophomore year she insisted that I turn myself into the athletic department, who were a notorious bunch of overzealous rule Nazis. They suspended me for 25% of the season for having been at the party, and when I showed up that year to practice all the coaches treated me like shit due to my suspension. By the time I became eligible I was so sick of taking their crap that I just quit and never played competitively again. I think one of the most appealing aspects of poker is that there are no real authority figures in the game.
We go home to get changed then drive over to some very nice courts in Edgewood. I played quite often before I left Melbourne so my stroke is pretty sharp save my backhand which is especially difficult given that I mashed up my hand working a boxing bag with no gloves in Vegas last week. My dad is a good opponent for me skill wise at tennis as we’re roughly at the same skill level though I have a 40 year age and mobility advantage. The other factor is his competitiveness, which has him exploding at himself when he misses shots and claiming he wants to quit playing for the afternoon. I did not inherit this competitiveness, and after six years in poker I would describe my temper as something between comatose and nonexistent.

When we finish we head home and eat dinner. Then I suggest we go to the gym because I haven’t done any weight lifting in a few days and I intend on using my time in Wisconsin to try and get as physically fit as possible before the grind that is the WSOP. At the gym I spend the first half hour of my work out texting girls to set up dates and get one sorted with Isabelle for Wednesday. I will be cooking. I do a leg lift work out then hit the stationary bike for 20 minutes on level eight.

After the work out we return home and I take a shower. I get into decent clothes, pack up my computer, and go to do some work at the book store, which will give me the opportunity to both concentrate on getting some writing done and also perhaps chat up some women. When I arrive I am disappointed the only women around seem to be in high school, and I’m not Matthew McConaughey. I find a seat and start writing. I’m online talking to my friend Mike Graham that I grew up with, who has since joined the marines and done two tours in Iraq and I haven’t seen him in at least three years. He tells me he’s free for the night and it’s cool if I swing by. I do a bit of writing work then the stores speaker comes on and says they’ll be closing in 10 minutes. Shit, I barely got anything done.

I drive into the city to meet Mike. He’s got a nice apartment near the university and looks to be in very good shape. He tells me he’s been doing MMA for two years now, and having finished the active part of his service in the Marines is now back at school in Madison, which is being paid for by the military. He spends much of our conversation lamenting that since I’ve left most people have just settled into some shit routine where they have a job they hate, a girlfriend they tolerate, and the diet and exercise habits of Homer Simpson. Whenever we ever so rarely catch up I always enjoy asking him about war, as it is something I’m fairly positive I’ll never experience and so totally out of the ordinary. He tells me that his more recent tour was pretty quiet and boring, not unlike the last where he’s moderately certain he filled some guy with a string of bullets from a machine gun on top of a jeep, though he’ll never be certain. We are drinking Miller Lite.

When I get home I try to get a little more writing work in, but it’s getting late so I set the computer away and lie down. Hopefully with all the exercise sleep should come easy. It does, I drift off.