Good Will Hunting

4/23/2009 10:50:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich /

Let's take a short break from whinging like a girl about bad-beats. Let's whinge about the staggering levels of ignorance Americans can reach with regard to what's outside of their borders and their inability to identify sarcasm. I like chatting to Americans, I'm no "Detol" or anti-septic as they say, I'm here to keep up the Anglo-American special relationship, but it's so hard to find an intelligent one.

Around midnight I went over to Planet Hollywood last night and was chatting to a guy from New Mexico. A Caucasian 21 year old guy who was celebrating his birthday and was a pleasant enough chap. He was astonished I knew that Bill Richardson was the Governor of his state, it not occurring to him that American politics and American current affairs would be discussed in the UK.

There are extenuating circumstances here for the poor lad, he was only 21 and it was 3am, but when a shiny German with a fake tan joined our table, his cup of ignorance runeth over. "Careful" I said to New Mexico, "there's a German present, he's going to attempt to take over the table, its in their DNA."

German was involved in a hand and at showdown he slammed down a 4 which gave him trip fours. "Fantastischen vier" he declared with a big smile exposing impossibly white teeth. "Is he German really?" inquired New Mexico. "I thought he was Australian!"

I mean fuck me. You don't have to speak fluent German to spot a German accent when it's slamming cards down on the table with glee. And you don't need to be a language-smith to know that fantastischen vier means fantastic four in proper English speak. You can really work it out by the fact that he was happy and showing everyone a four and also by how it sounds like fantastic four.

There's a lot of Germans in Planet Hollywood. All of them prancing about like cocks (the birds). Chin up chest out, give them each a pair of Jack boots and a Luger they could be marching into Poland.

Let's rotate now back to the Gold Coast poker room. The scene of my horrific bad-beats relayed in a previous blog. It's 4.30am and I've dropped 20-30 IQ points myself. A player at the table happens to mention he's a dealer at Caesers Palace. "Oooh" says Dumb and Dumber in the 5 seat. "Do you know Brad then, he's a tall guy with a pony tail?"

"Yeah I know Brad" says CP dealer with a wink - "he's a tall guy with a pony tail right?" "Yeah that's him, you guys are friends?" asked Dumb and Dumber sincerely while the rest of the table frown and scratch heads at this man's gullibility.

"Sure we go fishing on weekends." Dumb and Dumber is pleased. "Ooh OK cool." "To be fair" says I. "There's about 2,000 people working at Caesers you're gonna need to be more specific don't you think?"

D and D frowns then smiles. He understands now CP dealer was being sarcastic. There's not much sarcasm over here and when it appears it generally passes unnoticed. A moment of silence now as everyone says a silent a prayer for Dumb and Dumber's sadly departed intelligence. Silence broken eventually by a sincere Will in the 3 seat who looks and sounds like TJ Cloutier..."I hunt myself..where do you guys go fishing?"

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