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Making the Rounds of the Underground Poker Scene

A poker playing friend of mine was looking for some action this past weekend. Another friend of ours told us about an underground poker club in Astoria Queens, so we said what the heck let’s give it a try.

We download directions from Mapquest and we’re on our way. It takes us roughly 40 minutes to get there by car, we’d get there a lot sooner if it weren’t for traffic.

We park and start to look for the place. The neighborhood is mostly immigrant families so it’s the perfect spot for a underground club. I mean who’s going to rat them out?

We reach the address we were given. The club is housed in an old warehouse that was converted to hold small businesses. The club is on the 2nd floor and we get buzzed in.

We’re patted down for weapons and stuff by a brutish, well built Russian dude.  I now know what prison feels like.  In a way I’m glad he was diligent because I felt much safer because of it.

There’s 6 tables with a few in the back that are empty. We cash in for $300 and wait for a seat to open up. The place looks clean and bright. There are several big screen TVs around the room, each playing a baseball game or the US Open. There’s a guy sitting all alone watching the TV screens closely. We find out he’s the resident bookie. I guess when there’s action, there’s action.

We wait another 20 minutes or so for more people to arrive. 6 players are waiting before the club finally opens another table. We get seated. The club charges $10 per hour per seat. If you include tipping the dealers you’re looking at a huge deficit before the cards hit the felt. That’s the price you pay for not going to Atlantic City but hey we’re there so let’s play some cards.

It isn’t long before we get a full table of loosey goosey gamblers. There’s a few regulars sitting with us. There’s Joey Raccoon because he has huge bags under his eyes. There’s Mikey Babes, well I don’t know why he’s called that and then there’s Skinny Igor. The other players are unknowns. My friend and I introduce ourselves to the table and we’re on our way to action city.

I’m holding my own winning small pots here and there, while my friend takes down a huge pot when his 10s hold up against A/K suited. At this point I’ve already paid $20 in fees just to sit at this game. I’ve also tossed in a few tips to the dealer and to this gorgeous waitress they have there. I wasn’t really thirsty but having her next me while I admired her talents was worth the several diet cokes I ordered (they don’t allow alcohol really because they don’t want drunk people getting crazy after they’ve lost huge pots so they say but I saw a lot of guys drinking a beer or two).

We’re heading into hour 4 and I’m playing steady. I win a nice pot when I hit my OE straight draw but lose it later on when my top pair gets taken out by a player who played his middle pair until the river (he hit trips). I’m down roughly $50 at this point so I’m not that worried. 

By this time a woman is sitting at our table. Her nickname is Lady which was interesting because she was anything but. She cursed more than a sailor on shore leave. Believe me this was no Lady. This woman was awesome to behold. She could cuss with the best of them. She’d call you a motherfucker if you hit against her. Every other word from her mouth was a curse word. Perhaps the oddest thing about her is what she did for a living. She’s an interpreter for the deaf, a sign language specialist. I guess she deals with deaf people all the time which allows her to curse like a nobody’s business. I ask her how to curse in sign language and she gives me the finger.

By the 6th hour we’re in full swing. We get to calling this asian dude Tony Two Pair because he keeps nailing two pair. “Any Ace Eddie” is another moniker we slap on this middle aged guy for his propensity to play Ace rag in any position. A young guy they start to call Origami because all he does is fold. I’m given the nickname Brooklyn because they never had a guy from Brooklyn come this far to play poker. My buddy doesn’t get real a nickname but he’s constantly referred to as the other Brooklyn guy.

By this time I’m stuck about a C-note and my buddy is up around $200 so he’s running good. The table is loose but in a friendly way. It’s almost like a home game with your buddies that’s how cool these guys were. I can see why this club is doing great, they have some really interesting characters playing there.

The 7th hour comes and goes and I make back a few bucks but nothing special. I’m just not hitting tonight. I’m trying to make plays here and there but mostly I’m losing because I just couldn’t get some of my hands to hit. I was missing everything it seemed like. I couldn’t catch a flush if my life depended on it. I get top pair top kicker counterfeited by a set of 3s. It was that type of night where I’m not dragging huge pots because my monster draw just wasn’t getting there. I decide to tighten up a bit and not chase as much.

I win a nice pot when my KK (in the B holds up against 99s. I slowplayed this hand for value on the turn and it paid off until an Ace on the river killed any future action (The other guy in the pot was “Any Ace” Eddie).

4am. By this time my buddy and I are getting tired and we have to drive back to Brooklyn so we decide to break out. I count my chips and I have roughly $200 give or take a few bucks. My friend leaves on the positive side of the ledger with roughly $550 ($250 profit).

I have to admit that this was the most fun I’ve ever had playing in a poker club. The game wasn’t too hard but it wasn’t too soft either. The players were fun and the atmosphere was lively. Even though I lost money, it didn’t feel so bad. I’ve lost less and felt.