Roadtrip: Day 2. Back to Charlotte

My last post lacked empathy. It must be pretty crummy to have your health fail you when you're stuck on an airplane. It's not like they can tie a parachute to you, shove you out the plane, and tell you you're sure to land next to a hospital.

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Trip Odometer: 222 miles.

Rob drove me down to the sleepy burg of Southport, NC (south of Wilmington, right next to Bald Head Island). I manned the cd player, which reminds me that I'm gonna have to burn him a copy of that Kanye cd I have. He had never heard it, and he loved it.

I read the first 200 pages of Super System 2, his gift to me. For Christmas. My family can be slack with the gift-giving sometimes. Hopefully I can become less retarded at limit holdem, O/8, et cetera.

The line of the trip was at Jersey Mike's Sub (mmmmm Jersey Mike's). I was attempting to give the sandwich girls a tip, but they couldn't accept it, company policy and the boss was arouind. Rob replied, "Well, I could write my phone number on it, and then I'd just be hitting on you."

My best friend from college, Jay, wanted me to get a poker game together. This, when I haven't lived in Charlotte for four years, and didn't play when I was living there. We ended up playing heads-up, tourney style.

He never raised preflop. He would limp, and sometimes limp-reraise me. Even with that glaring weakness, we split the games two a piece. His wife, who trusts him playing in games where a couple hundred bucks can change hands, didn't want him playing me for any substantial amount of money. We played for $1, $1, $2 and $5. I won the $5 match, so he didn't have all the bragging rights. Good times. We had fun.

Now, on to Memphis.