Coffee, Tea or Five Card Draw

Chances are 1 in 649,740 you'll get this hand. 

I arrived in Panhandle in the early morning. The fall harvest was coming up and I had a trunkful of farm equipment catalogs to distribute to my customers. I wanted them read my materials over the winter. There would be no sales pitches on this trip, just stop in, say hello, talk about the weather, give out the catalogs.

I was interested in listening to the ranchers talk about their upcoming plans, of course, but I also wanted to know what happened at the poker tournament that pitted Jackie’s Women Only Club against the men of Panhandle. All I knew was that the women had challenged the men to a charity benefit poker tournament a month before. The players would put up a $25 stake. That came to $600. Some businesses ponied up to fatten the pot. The money was for repairs on the library bus that made regular rounds to ranches and farms bringing books and magazines to the kids and adults who couldn’t make it into town on their own. I know in some places the only book in the house is a Bible.

As I drove by Jackie’s Cold Day Inn I saw her sweeping the sidewalk. I decided to stop and chat. It was too early for my usual Jack so we had coffee instead and took a table near the coffee pot. Wendy poured out three cups and joined us.

Jackie dropped sugar cube in her cup, took a sip, and said, “We won.”

“The women won?” Both Jackie and Wendy rewarded me with radiant smiles

Jackie leaned back in her seat and said, “Yeah, we did. We got all the money, $1,845. The bus is gettin’ a new engine, transmission, and two new tires. There was 70 or more of us, drinkin’, havin’ fun, givin’ free advice to the players. There’s a few couples  who won’t be gettin’ along for a while but nothin’ too serious.

“Sheriff Tom laid out the rules --- anybody not havin’ a good time hasta leave or stand in the corner facing the wall. Doc and Wendy were in charge of knowin’ the rules of Five Card Draw in case there was any disagreements. We’re feelin’ pretty good about the turnout and the money.

“There was some side betting going on mostly on which man would come out on top... Steve. A few of  ‘em thought Jackie had the best chance among the women.

I raised my hand like a cop saying stop. “Isn’t betting illegal in this county?”

“Well, lemme put it this way. There was a man who looked like Tom, wearin’ jeans, a snap button shirt and shiny boots. You could ask around, I ‘spose, but nobody remembers seein’ the Sheriff in the bar.”

She winked at me, “More coffee?” and continued.

“We had twelve on each side. At first, the men played it for laughs but then they noticed that we were winnin’. Willis was the first to lose his stake. Then Lonny was done. A couple of hours later it was three men against five women. The men got more serious but it didn’t help much. They were still losin’. On our side, Millie was the first woman to drop out. Flora lost tryin’ to buy the pot. She stopped payin’ attention for a minute and Steve took her down with Jacks over 8’s, smug look on his face. I was hopin’ she’d last longer. She’s a smart one.

“It evened up some, three on three now. Mike, Don, and Steve on one side. Me, Becky, (we call her the church lady), and Doris on the other. I made a dumbass play, holding on to two pair, low number cards, and bettin’ too much, and lost. Doris hung on but didn’t have enough chips to stay in. So she was gone along with Don. Then Becky played Mike like a two dollar fiddle and he went down. She was so still the whole time, made me think of a five foot tall volcano, a little smoke rising, might blow up anytime.

“It was one helluva finish. It was down to Becky and Steve playin’ the last hand, all the money was on the table, $1845. Winner take all. We all got real quiet, even Chatty Cathy. Steve made a big show of layin’ his cards facedown on the table while Becky held her cards close, almost touchin’ her nose. Swear to god I heard the music from one of them Clint Eastwood westerns, a showdown in the middle of Main street.

“Steve turned his cards over one at a time, a big ole GOTCHA smirk on his face.  A sure winner, three Queens, Ace high. His buds come up, slap ‘im on the back. Everybody in the bar knew that ‘trips’ of anything’s hard to get, hard to beat. The women groaned and the men whooped. Sweet, sweet victory.

“But it wasn’t over. Becky flipped her cards on the table like a riverboat gambler, real slow, one at a time. King of Hearts... King of Spades... Seven of Hearts. I thought her next card would pair up with the Seven of Hearts. Two pair don’t beat three of a kind --- huge mistake! But then she flipped the King of Diamonds. Steve looked like Becky’d just walloped him upside his head with her purse. You know, I think he mighta liked that better. For a minute it looked like he was gonna turn the table over, he was so mad. He saw all of us women coming up behind Becky and he changed his mind and sat down, glared at his three Queens.”

I told Jackie it sounded crazy when she proposed the tournament. Men against women in a poker game for a year of bragging rights. The men were practiced poker players after all, playing against each other for years. And the women?

“Tell you the truth, Jackie, I didn’t think they’d be too interested in playing poker.”

Jackie agreed, nodding slowly. “Well, when I told ‘em my idea they didn’t like it one bit. To them, poker meant smelly cigars and stale beer stinkin’ up the house, same old raunchy jokes, late nights. And who’s gotta clean up after they’re gone --- the women!

“I begged ‘em to try it just the once. Play for pennies, I said, I’ll put up the stakes. Lo and behold, some of them started gettin’ the hang of it. From then on it was all “check”, “call”, “raise”. It helped that me and Wendy served up a lotta free wine. When the meetin’ was over I told ‘em the first trainin’ class was the next night. I had a full house.

“I figured I could teach the women some basics, like rankin' winnin' hands, good hand, bad hand, when to fold and the like. Honest, I wasn’t expectin' to win. It takes skill, a lotta practice, a damn good memory and a powerful desire to win. I had less than a month  to get the women ready so I didn’t put much into it at first. The tournament wasn’t about winnin' anyway. It was a stunt for gettin' up enough money to fix the damn library bus.

“Most of the men I asked said no or kinda laughed at the idea of playin' against women even if it was for charity. ‘Embarrassin', one ‘em said, ‘for the women’.

“I was gettin’ discouraged until I remembered something Doc Harris told me once. He said if you wanna hurt a woman, attack her looks. If you wanna hurt a man attack his pride. So I went after the men with this: You won’t play against us ‘cause you’re afraid to lose. That riled ‘em up but good.”

“Becky, the church lady surprised me. It wasn’t long ago she wouldn’t even touch a deck of cards, let alone gamble, Devil’s Workshop, Road to Hell and all that. But this was for charity like Bingo so her minister said it was ok. Anyhow, she jumped into it with both feet, takin’ notes while the other women described the ‘tells’ they knew from a lifetime of watchin’ their men. Stuff like his left eye twitches when he’s fibbin’. Squints like Clint Eastwood when he wants to look tough, rolls his shoulders, and so on. Peggy over the library told me Becky checked out some books on poker.

Wendy refilled my cup and said, “Jackie, don’t forget about Steve.”

“Oh, yeah, Steve. I ran into him at Les’s store one afternoon. We were talkin' about the tourney. You know Steve, how cocky he acts. He says, ‘I’m guessin' it won’t take 15, 20 minutes and it’ll be over.’”

Jackie clenched her fists and took a deep breath.

“Then the sumbitch really torqued my jaws. He says, ‘Jackie, I’m a pretty fair poker player and I might be goin’ against my kind but I’ll tell you what I can do. I’m willin’ to help you gals out by teachin’ your ladies how to play winnin’ poker, make the tournament more interestin’ and last a little longer.

“He gives me his shit eatin’ grin like he’s already won, and all’s left is which of the men will be top dog and he’s sure it’s gonna be him. I smiled at him and said you’re probly right about who wins but it’ll be fun and that old bus gets a new engine out of it. Let me think on it, let you know.

“I’ll tell you what, inside I was pissed to a fare thee well but I didn’t show it. What I was thinkin’ right then was when we get that old bus fixed the front bumper is gonna be the last thing he sees before he leaves this life for the next one.

“I was still steamed when I got back to the bar. Wendy says what’s wrong and I tell her what Steve said. I was mad all afternoon and Wendy stayed out of my way. We finished gettin' the bar ready for the early customers and settled down for some wine.

“I’m sittin' there sippin' my wine and gettin' mad about Steve all over again. Wendy says Steve’s pretty sure of himself. I said yeah, he’s been that way since we were in high school a hundred years ago. All the girls thought he was hot stuff, jealous of me because he was my steady. Except for the thinnin' hair and the beer belly he’s still the same know-it-all asshole.”

Wendy leaned over and put her hand on my arm and said, “I told Jackie about when Milo was teaching me self defense he said when your opponent is bigger and stronger than you, what you do is turn his size and strength against him. Use his power to beat him. Milo’s got 40 pounds on me but I flipped ‘im on his back just like he showed me.”

Jackie said, “What Wendy said gave me an idea. Men are bigger and louder than most women and they got a lotta experience playin’ cards. What if we used that to figure out their moves in the poker game?

“Once we had the basics of Five Card Draw I spent the last two weeks teachin’ the women about ‘tells’ and not worry about their hand so much. And we saw it work at the tournament when Becky bluffed Mike but good. He showed his hand, winkin' or makin' faces at his friends. Becky showed nothin'. Just kept uppin' the bet. He’s keepin' up bettin' and raisin' so damn sure he can beat the little old church lady clutchin' her cards so hard her knuckles look like they’re gonna bust out the skin. She keeps raisin' the bet ‘til Mike’s outa chips and has to fold. Found out later he had a pair of 10’s, Queen high. Wanna know what Becky had? Becky had nothin', not a pair, not even part of an inside straight, nothin' at all.”

Wendy slapped the table and laughed, “You shoulda seen what Becky’s face the whole time she’s playin’ him. It was like one of those giant statues you see on TV, a bunch of ‘em look alike, nobody knows who made ‘em. Easter Island.

Jackie sighed and stared into her coffee cup. “Goes to show you. If anybody knows how to hide what they’re thinkin’ or feelin’ when it counts, it’s women. That’s how women my age were brought up. Men grow up different --- they don’t have to hide it when they’re pissed off, disgusted, or anything. Women, we’re supposed to say sorry even when we’re right, saves some of us from gettin’ beat up. No way it’s right but that’s the way it’s been as far back as I know.”

I saw Wendy’s face harden. She’s from a younger generation and times are changing too slowly for her.

“Like I said, in my day women  were raised different from men. Think about it a minute. From the very beginnin' boys are put outdoors like livestock to butt heads with each other like billy goats. They hafta yell and holler above the noise from cattle, tractors, threshers, and each other. Their life is loud sunrise to sunrise. Boys become men all their lives hearin’ and usin’ their outside voices.

“Most women are raised indoors. They learn the quiet ways of cooking, sewing, cleaning, raisin' babies, all the time hearing inside voices. Wendy here’s got it better but there’s still a long way to go.”

The phone rang and Wendy went to answer it. Jackie and I sipped our coffee while we waited for her to come back.

“That was Doc Harris. Wanted to know if we were here. He’s on his way over.”

A few minutes later Doc Harris came in and took the chair next to me. “Mornin’ all. Wendy, you got some coffee for me? What’s good, Jackie?”

“Oh, not much, Doc, just tellin’ our friend here about the poker tournament.”

Doc Harris stirred two sugar cubes into his coffee, drank half of it, looked at me and said,

“Everybody had a great time, even the losin’ side. You look at it seriously, though, there’s no way the women win. They been playin' a couple of weeks against men who learned poker in the Army, at weekly poker games and such. Hell, even the worst players know enough to fold or hold even if they lose most of the time. No, sir. No way the women  win. What nobody counted on was Jackie’s smarts.”

Jackie pursed her lips and shook her head side to side. “Doc, you’re thinkin’ too much. It don’t take a lotta smarts to figure out what we did. Poker’s a game of strategy and deception. We had both, their side was every man for himself.

“Number one: All of ‘em think they’re great poker players, playin’ against each other. You don’t improve playin’ against the same five men. You get better goin’ against players better’n you, learn what you gotta do to win.

“Number two: The women know their men better’n they know themselves. We learned their tells. We hid ours as best we could. I heard some folks say they beat themselves. Nope. We beat ‘em fair and square.”

Doc stroked his chin and was about to say something but Jackie interrupted, “See? That’s your tell when you’re gonna say you think I’m right.”

He stared at her for a long second and put his hand down. “Yeah, I was gonna say that. Then I was gonna tell you I called Tom and Les. They’ll be here in a minute. They’re at Milo’s picking up the banner.”

Turning to Jackie I said, “Banner?”

Jackie said, “Hold on, Doc. I was savin’ this for last. I really like tellin’ it.” Wendy went to the bar and came back with four shots of bourbon.

“The day before the tournament, we’re gettin’ the bar ready, settin’ up the tables. We’re busy. Steve comes in and says he thinks we oughta commemorate the tournament, make it an annual thing. How ‘bout the losing side has to put a banner over your bar sayin’ something like, ‘Panhandle, Where the Women Are Strong and the Best Poker Players Are Men.’ And it has to stay up until the next tournament.

“Hell, I just wanted him outa here so I said, sure, sure, why not, and forgot about it until we won.”

“Yep”, Doc said, “aside from losin’ braggin’ rights for a year the losin’ side has to pay for the banner. Tom, Les, and me are puttin’ it up this morning.”

“What does it say?”, I asked.

“Panhandle, Where the Men are Good Looking and the Best Poker Players are Women.”