Just before midnight, I packed up my laptop, cleaned up our desk, and told Pauly that I was going home for the night, so I could get back to work early tomorrow morning, instead of near 1 pm because I'm up until 3:30 writing, plus an hour to unwind when I get back to my hotel room.
I was grateful to not hear a single bad beat story on my way down the hallway, and when I opened the door to go out to the parking lot, I noticed that the air wasn't miserably hot for the first time since I got here three weeks ago. In fact, it was probably in the high 80s or low 90s, and it felt really good on my skin. I stopped for a second, and I thought, "Man, this is one of those really simple things that just makes me smile." It instantly occurred to me that I was quoting Dirty Vegas in my head, and now I had a nice mental soundtrack to accompany me across the parking lot to my car, which was uncommonly far away.
I passed the taxi and valet stands, and walked down the driveway toward my car. Five hundred yards or so into my journey, I neared a young couple at an idling car. She sat in the driver's seat, and looked up at him. He stood on the curb, hands folded across his chest.
"Ah," I thought, "It's a young couple having a fight in the parking lot." The normality of this put me at ease. I could have been in any suburban mall in America at that moment.
As I passed them, I heard him say, "Well, what do you think I should have done?"
I looked over at them, and saw that she was pissed.
"Andrew," she said, "You can't push with ace king after a raise and a re-raise, especially with big stacks yet to act behind you!"
This may not be normal for the average young couple having a fight in the parking lot, but it is beyond normal at the World Series of Poker, which, I guess, makes it normal for me here right now.
He began to offer some defense, but I quickened my pace to avoid hearing it.
"She's right," I thought, as I skipped down the steps and jogged across lot C to my car.