INT. CAR-PARKING LOT-MORNING
CU of Max Fiddleman, eyes closed, blanket pulled tightly around him. He sleeps soundly in spite of the noise, we pull back to see this is the parking lot of the Pacific Breeze Casino, adjacent to a freeway teeming with rushing cars.
Max now awakens, finds his cell phone amongst the clutter of the passenger seat, checks the time on his phone. He takes a bottle of cologne from the center console and splashes some on his neck. He grabs his bag, unzips it and pulls out a stack of one hundred dollar bills. He counts the money and puts it back in the bag. He places the bag over his shoulder as he exits the car. He walks towards the entrance of the casino. He fist bumps the security guard, they obviously know each well and exchange greetings.
INT. PACIFIC BREEZE CASINO
Max enters the bathroom, stands in front of mirror, applies deodorant, brushes his teeth, and uses water to make his hair presentable. He then exits the bathroom and studies the sparsely populated early morning card room as he walks to the poker board where he addresses the woman standing in front of a computer screen.
MAX
Hey Carol, seat available?
Okay, perhaps this isn’t cinematic, but I did sleep in my car two nights ago. Later at the tables it occurred to me that this could be a decent beginning for a movie. Occasionally I permit myself the time to revive my screenwriting aspirations and, for inspiration, view my life cinematically. Who is this guy? Why is he sleeping in his car? Why is he entering the casino? As you see, the audience’s curiosity builds. What comes next I’m uncertain. But surely in the hands of a skilled and properly motivated director there is a movie in this.*
I’m more self-involved than most people. So yeah, perhaps I am inclined to see my days as reeling in a random observer, a possible moviegoer. There hasn't been a lot of drama in my life this week but we are all free to make our own headlines.
WORLD’S LAZIEST MAN CLEANS HIS CAR
STRUGGLING GENIUS TWISTS ANKLE
GENEROUS SOUL TIPS 50% ON A CARNE ASADA BURRITO
IMPISH DREAMER REMEMBERS TO DO TAXES
STEEL-SPINED, CASH-POOR POKER PRO GOES TO WORK
Anyway, there was an open seat at the only table going, a $400 cap 2/3 hold ‘em game, so I sat down. It was a good game: populated with several deep stacked unskilled players who have been up all night and a few old guys who just showed up and would offer little resistance to my aggressive play. I would have played all night but I was little messed up. An infrequent occurrence but not the first time I’ve had to quit a game to retreat to my car. I have a blanket in the front seat just to be prepared for these nights where a drive home would be perilous.
Terri, the waitress, came over and I ordered an omelet and some coffee. I walked to the cage and got $400 in chips, 80 redbirds. I returned to the table and was dealt KJ suited my first hand. I raised and got several callers. I flopped a straight and won $350. I like it when my days start this way.
This is how I make my living. I call myself a poker pro. Now many pros, the ones who have studied the game comprehensively and make a good living at it, would have a reaction of Olympian laughter if I called myself a pro, but you also have to remember lots of these guys are malignant assholes. For now I’ll capitulate briefly to their semantics. I am not a poker pro, I am a grinder. A poker pro can walk into any card room and make money. But a grinder needs verrrrry specific conditions to make a living and will have to make sure he is in the right game. You don’t have to be good at poker to make a living at it, you just have to be surrounded by players that are worse than you. This isn’t easy, especially in sunny California where the rents are high, gas ain’t cheap, and there are scores and scores of grinders scurrying about, fighting for every nickel of dead money that finds itself on a poker table.
I can’t really remember too many hands from this session. I was preoccupied with crafting my ‘poker player wakes up in his car’ narrative. My story didn’t really develop but the good news is that I played for four hours and made $637. Then I drove home and got some real sleep.
*Doubtful