Texas Hold'em

Playing six hours of poker with ten adolescent boys is definitely one way to brush up on your Spanish. After an innocent morning visiting libraries and parks, I somehow ended up losing fifteen dollars to a sixteen-year-old wearing a trucker´s hat bedazzeled with the words ¨Dedicated to the One I Love¨. I´m not even sure I´ve ever played poker before, but somehow I ended up sneaking into the Italian Club of Colombia with Victor´s cousins to play a few rounds of Texas Hold'em. By some miracle I actually won the first game. The club owner had his doubts about allowing a gringa at the table, especially one in tennis shoes and a T-shirt, but the leader of the KOOL kids convinced the owner to allow me to play another round. Of course I am only assuming this boy was the leader of the pack based on the height of his mullet. Rank in the Italio-Colombio teenage mafia is definitely determined by darkness of sunglasses and amount of hair gel. Nonetheless, I didn´t understand a single word that was said in that smoke-filled room, nor do I think I´d want to repeat any of them in the presence of someone who wears their pants above their hip bones. I know this much for sure - if I ever go to Vegas, I should stick to the slot machines.