That's the same feeling I had this Monday listening to the pilot of the plane I was on. I'd fallen asleep - not having packed yet - the night before, and Serach couldn't wake me up. I woke up the next morning with almost no time, quickly got ready and packed (good thing I didn't need to pack much), and jumped into the cab at 8:15 in the morning. I got to the airport thinking I had a good 50-minute wait until my flight... and then found out that the flight was a half hour later than I thought, so I'd rushed for nothing. Ah well. My flight plans were to fly to Chicago's O'Hare airport on Continental, with a stopover in Cleveland of about half an hour. I get on the flight, see an old friend of my father's is in first class, and sit down in my seat reading about Peyton Manning. After a few minutes, the pilot gets on the speaker:
"Well, they just discovered that there's a nice dent in the hydra blah blah blah blah. That's the back wing that stabilizes the plane and keeps it level. We think it's probably not a big deal, and as soon as the mechanic can check it out, we'll be off on our way."But that's okay! Ugh. After about another hour or so of waiting, I realized there was no chance I was going to make my connecting flight, so I went up and asked them about it. They had no problem switching me to another airline... and on a direct flight! I realize now I could have/should have asked about getting put on a plane to Milwaukee, but they probably can only put me to where they have me listed as going.
I get on the United flight, and... United sucks. Their seats are so cramped it's ridiculous. Continental is easily the best "big" airline out there, close to Southwest overall, with JetBlue and Midwest Express well ahead of them. United? Near the bottom. No wonder they were in bankruptcy a couple of years ago. Anyways... my friend picked me up from O'Hare, we stopped at "The Yeshiva" (is that like The Ohio State University? L'havdil!), and I saw Elianna's future father-in-law, who I don't think I've seen since before we were both married. [Sorry, everybody. This kid is that cute, and his dad called it as soon as Elianna was born.]
Then, of course, came the all-important Burger Buddy at Ken's Diner, where we saw the most amazing thing...
WARNING: Skip the rest of this post if you couldn't care less about poker. I'll continue writing about my trip in the next post. Thank you for your patience.Quick setup: One guy has an 8-9 suited (diamonds); another guy has A-something, and a woman has Q-Q. The flop comes: 10d, Jd, Qc. The woman has a set (three of a kind) of Queens... but the guy has a straight already. He bets immediately, the other guy folds, and she calls (or raises and he calls, I don't remember). The turn comes: 10. She's just made a boat (full house). He bets, she raises, he hesitates. He probably thinks she's got a higher straight or something, and that a diamond will give it to him anyway; in reality, she's got a 98% chance of winning the hand. He calls.
The river comes: 7 of diamonds. There was only ONE card in the deck that could save him, and this was it. He now has a straight flush... and she probably thinks he only made his flush. She probably thinks that she can take a ton of chips from this guy, who thinks his flush is good, when she has a full house. He bets a lot - she goes all-in. (Assuming I'm remembering all of this correctly. He calls IMMEDIATELY. She flips over her queens, already realizing that he's got it. "I can't believe that 7 of diamonds fell", she mutters, and she takes a nice, long break from the table (she had more chips than he did, so she wasn't knocked out). The most amazing hand I've ever seen.