tampered | [Open Log] Not so very far from here...

When; Around 10 pm on February 13.
Rating; PG-13 I would imagine.
Characters; Meyer Lansky, and anyone who either works at Lucky's or wants to come gamble!
Summary; It's basically just happy fun times at Lucky's. Or unhappy not fun times, if you decide to cheat or break things! Employees, gamblers, random people wanting a drink... all are welcome!
Log; As far as Meyer was concerned, ten at night was the best time to be at Lucky's. Everyone who worked there was there by then, and that meant he could take a break from dealing hands of poker to wander through the small card room and schmooze with the regulars, as well as greet everyone who came through the door.

As he made his rounds, he was solicitous, complimenting one man on how much money he'd won in a lucky game of blackjack, and commiserating with another man on his empty wallet once he'd lost several hands of poker. He was always suggesting people have another drink, stay for a little while longer, see if they couldn't get their luck back. Maybe just one more hand would win them everything.

If you walk through the door, you're likely to see a large crowd, but Meyer will make sure to push his way through it to greet you personally, shake your hand, and suggest that you take a seat. You never know, tonight might be your lucky night...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"You have a fair point."

He lights a cigarette, then offers her one. "There are two kinds of poker players. There're guys like me who play the odds. We look at statistics. We see what's possible, what's probable, what mathematics says we should and shouldn't do. When we take risks, they're calculated risks. When we win, it's because the odds were in our favor and we played it cool. When we lose, it's almost always because we fold."

He takes a thoughtful drag on his cigarette. "Then there's players like I think you'll turn out to be. Sure, you understand the likelihood of things turning out the way you want them, more or less, and you know when luck's against you. But you like things to be interesting, you like danger, and you know that sometimes people get lucky. When you win, it's because you bluff well and push people past their comfort zone. When you lose, it's usually because you overextend yourself in the hopes that things will turn around."

A shrug. It's not a psychological analysis, exactly, but it's about as close as he'll ever get.

She takes a cigarette, fishing her holder and a lighter from her purse and pausing to light his before her own, listening intently as he speaks. "That about sounds right. And I guess the first type of players end up with the advantage more often than not then, not only because they'll fold when they need to, but because they spend far more time analyzing the cards and the other players. The second kind - like me - well, we worry far too much about how we're coming across ourselves, if our own gambits are paying off."

He shrugs. "Sure, sometimes we do have the advantage, but sometimes your type of player has the advantage, too. What you have that we don't is the power of distraction; a flashy player -- and I don't say this because you're a beautiful woman, so don't get the wrong idea -- can easily distract an analytical player like me. I've got a friend back home who isn't technically as good as I am and still beats me a fair amount, just because he never stops talking. Boldness pays off, sometimes."

Sometimes. He is, of course, biased towards his own style, but he thinks she'd take better to the other style, and one should really work with their natural talents.

"I don't know, it sort of feels like cheating in a way, taking advantage of my looks to distract people like that." She takes a long drag on her cigarette. "But if that's the sort of tactic that people use..." She trails off, shrugs. "I'd like to think that I can learn to be good at playing the game, but maybe that's just as much a part of the game as the cards are, really."

"We use what we have. You're good looking, and you're charming. You distract people with that. People usually underestimate me, which is a great distraction, too. It's the same idea, and it isn't cheating. You can get good at the game, but you'll never get great at it if you don't learn to work to your advantages."

A pause as he smokes contentedly for a moment, and then seems to remember something. "Oh, and figuring out what your tells are will go a long way towards helping you bluff better."

A satisfied smile settles onto her face. She didn't particularly care if he hit on her or not - Ruby had always thought it was an even worse idea to sleep with her boss than with a customer - but she still appreciates the acknowledgement of her better qualities. "I don't think that learning to charm my way into winning will be too difficult."

"My tells? When other people would know that I'm bluffing?"

"Right. Some people might be the type to smile when they have bad cards, out of a nervous habit. Some people might touch their face a lot, or maybe stop making eye contact. Other people might bite their lip, or light up a cigarette. The little stuff, you know. Even once you get good at bluffing, just about everyone has a tell."

"I guess that's something that's easier to pick up playing with the same people over and over, so you can learn their tells. And obviously figuring out what mine are so that I'm not as obvious."

"You'll always have a tell, probably. The best you can do is realize it and minimize it."

Yes, even he has one, although he's not about to confess as to what it is. He lights another cigarette with the remains of his first cigarette -- ah, chain-smoking, such a healthy habit at his age -- and nods at her with a smile.

"The next couple times you play, play with a small group. One, maybe two other people. That'll give you a better chance to watch their faces and cards."

"Oh, definitely. I'd be far too daunted to play in a larger group than that so soon anyway." She stubs out the remains of her cigarette, twirling the holder between her fingers out of habit for needing something to do with her hands when she isn't smoking. "And I do hope that we can play again, when I've improved. I might even beat you next time."

"Maybe you will."

And he's not just saying that to be nice. There's every chance that if she practices, she can beat him. Despite his focus on statistics, there is still some degree of chance. He glances at the clock, then back at her with a shrug.

"Looks like break time is over for me. Good game."

"All right. Well, thanks for teaching me, it's definitely a useful thing to know. I very much enjoyed it too, even though I lost." That genial smile is back.

And with another smile at her, he scoops of the deck of cards, and heads back across the room, cigarette in hand, to greet several potential gamblers who have just wandered in.

[Open Log] Not so very far from here...

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