Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to [email protected].
I have been invited to a poker party a junior partner’s house. I am very good at poker, and I assume the partner is not as good as I. Should I play to win so I look impressive and intelligent? Or should I throw the game, so I don’t look uppity or risk offending the partner’s ego?
Dear Sir Gaga,
A junior partner who invites an associate to poker at his place is the sort of person who lives in a Scarsdale McMansion decorated in fauxTuscany-style, sits around the poker table and yells for his Juicy Couture velour sweatsuit-clad wife to quit yapping on the phone and deliver the goddamn Doritos and Lipton Onion Dip to the guests, chomps on cigars while talking about Per Se, Vegas, and golf, swills Johnny Walker Black from his Wiliams-Sonoma highball glass which was the one item he lobbied hard for on the wedding registry, mentions his humidor, claims his bachelor party was the best one he had ever been to, has a Golden Retriever named Phoenix, says “work hard, play hard” is his personal motto, indiscreetly bangs two associates on the side, once snorted coke off a hooker in Amsterdam, sends purposely nonresponsive emails to a dweeb first year just to be a bully, DVRs SportsCenter, wears French cuffs to partner meetings, plays X-Box and ignores his wife while guzzling Coke from a 7-11 Slurpee cup, farts and doesn’t apologize, wears Prada loafers without socks on the weekend, drives a Jeep Grand Cherokee for alleged “off-roading” that no one has ever seen him do, “lives for the deal” but hates his life, so you should feel free to roll up this partner’s plywood palace with your Full Tilt hoodie, hologram sunglasses and Marlboro Miles visor and take this chump for everything he’s got.
Elie’s homage to Rounders, after the jump.
Never beat the boss. If you are really as good as you suggest you are, you should be able to flaunt your poker skills at the expense of other players while skillfully avoiding going heads up with your boss. If you get caught heads up, you fold like a bitch and live to have a job another day. Now is not the time to practice your “speaking truth to power skills.” You lay that monster down when your boss is in the hand.
Michael Keaton nobly fell down at the end of the race in Mr. Mom to his wife’s boss. And he is Batman, you idiot.
If you keep your boss on your right, you’ll be able to keep his ego stroked while beating the bag out of lesser players who do not have your career in their hands. If you have good cards and he bets into you, you fold. If you have crap cards you call and pay the man — pay the man his money. It’s not that hard.
I’m laying this down, Teddy. Top two pair. It’s a monster hand, I’m gonna lay that down.
Or, you could take the punk for his home, assets and entire equity stake in the firm, so that when he’s left standing in the circular driveway of his (former) home with only a pair of rumpled boxers and a Jos A. Banks shirt left to his name, you can turn to him and say, “Who’s the associate now, BIATCH?!”