There was a glorious time before television fans were obsessed with fancy cupcakes or Real Housewives. It was known as the days of no limit Texas holdem’, and just like any good entertainment obsession, cable TV over-saturated it like nobody’s business, and I watched every minute of it. The World Poker Tour, The World Series of Poker, Celebrity Poker Showdown, the DVD of Rounders with audio commentary by professional poker players like Chris “Jesus” Furguson and Johnny Chan, oh so much delight was had. I learned terms like big blind (the person who is forced to put in the bigger ante,) the river (the final card on the board), and on tilt (making decisions based on emotion that often are not well thought out.)

Years before all this pop culture poker I had already developed a fondness for the gambling. As a 12 year old, my grandma proudly took my money and bought me scratch offs at the Florida mecca known as Publix, a grocery store elderly people like to go to several times a week.

In college, I didn’t care about being 21 because it meant I was a legal drinker, but rather it meant I was a legal gambler and Peoria Illinois, the home of my delightful Bradley University, had a gambling boat. Instead of slamming shots, I doubled down on 11s and enjoyed free flowing complimentary diet cokes. I was a baller.

I did not go in debt, in fact I often won, and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t addicted. After all I knew the cautionary story arc of Brandon Walsh and his basketball gambling woes. I had no Duke the bookie to worry about and it was all in good fun.

Recently, Cleveland got it’s own casino and I have gone a couple of times and had my blackjack fun. This past weekend my sister and I celebrated my dad’s birthday by taking him to the casino and a nice restaurant. We all had a good time, no one won, in fact I lost my money in six consecutive blackjack hands, but it was all good, we we’re having good ol’ family fun.

We went to dinner at Greenhouse Tavern, a restaurant with an unusual menu and known for it’s famous half of a roasted pig’s head. I had looked at the menu ahead of time and had no plans of ordering Babe/Wilbur on a platter,but I lost all my money in five minutes and like a poker player who has a flush and loses on the river, I was on tilt, and I was about to make a poor emotions-based decision. 

I would order the famous pig’s head, how could this not make me a true winner that night? Winner, Winner, honkin’ roasted pig’s head dinner. I ordered it. I ate it (well a third of it, it seems pigs have rather large heads,) and like most decisions made on tilt, I paid for it. For 24 hours and several times over.

A lesson was literally served to me on a silver platter and I learned it’s indigestion-filled meaning: Next time get the burger and fries.