Today, at the $1100 tournament at the Seminole Hard Rock, I ran into Lexy and called her Jamie. Not a big deal. They are both very attractive blonde poker players. No harm, no foul. But it is one of those social faux pas that I, and probably most of us, dread. When someone you know you know comes up to you on the street or in a restaurant and says “Hi Neil” like they are old family friends (or just family). And you think, who the hell is that? Looks familiar, but out of context, no clue.
So you go around saying Hi, no name, just so you don’t screw up with the wrong name. Today, I threw caution to the wind because that was Jamie, right? Not so much.
Here is my defense.
1 They are both attractive blonde poker players. Thus easily confused. After all there are 100’s of pretty blondes on the poker circuit. Dozens? Certainly more than 10.
2 I met both Lexy and Jamie on the same night at the Borgata in January.
3 That night was Matt Stout’s charity event which is now a blur of booze, re-entries and Asher Coniff playing with one card exposed, blackjack style.
4 I did pose for photos with both Lexy and Jamie that night. (Check Facebook for evidence. The Bistro stalker photo is now infamous.)
5 In the last 6 months, I have been fortunate enough to meet, shake hands, take photos and shoot the shit with 1000 new poker friends and acquaintances. I don’t remember that many names. And, at least four of them were hot blondes.
But is that good enough? Does it represent something far more horrific about my character? This is a real worry so I went through my normal analytic routine.
First, what would Amir say?
Amir would say, does her value range include any hands that I can beat? What is the ICM value of making a call (of her name)? How much equity do I have in the interaction?
Basically, Amir is no help at all here.
So, let’s look at the bigger picture. If I had confused Mike and Rob Mizrachi, so be it. Non-issue. Or Tyler Patterson and Chris Moorman. Understandable error. (I still think they are the same guy.) But Lexy and Jamie? Really not that close. So, is it some deep-seated blonde animosity rearing its ugly head by me seeing and appreciating, but not discerning among blondes? I did flop a pair of blonde ex-wives. Some lingering angst?
The harsh reality is, I hardly remember anyone from poker tables now, except Joe. Joe has become my Superman, my messiah, the vision at every table, every hand, every action. I can’t look at Q8 without hearing “Joe” whispered in my ear. So it is understandable that after sitting down at the table today and seeing Joe under that hoodie (only took two hands to realize it was, indeed, Joe) that I would call Lexy by some other name. Could have just as easily called her Antonio or Norman because I was at the table with the Champ.