"FLETCH HAD WOKEN UP without an alarm clock at 5:30 a.m., give or take ten minutes, for so many years that neither Sunday off nor a bad hangover could keep him in bed past six. On this Sunday the hangover was worse than usual because he had been lucky playing cards last night at Mel's Tavern, putting together a rare string of winning poker strategies. Twice he drew successfully to an inside straight. At stud, in the largest pot of the evening, he bluffed Jensen into folding three visible kings in deference to his own two aces up, even though he had only a junk deuce down. And more often than not, he folded the two pairs on which he habitually raised — and lost. When the game was over, Fletch walked away from the table almost $50 richer, most of which he spent setting up whiskey at the Cowboy Bar down Main Street."
It was a big day, 22 years ago, when this got published in Northwest Magazine with cover art, in the same issue in which my hyperdrama "Cocktail Suite" was written up, almost a Deemer issue of the magazine, and I was bought many beers in celebration at Nobby's and my late buddy from Oklahoma Tom was there (see below), reading the story over and over again and telling me what he was finding and learning on each reading, Tom being a wannabe writer even at his age (older than I), and I only mention this because it feels like it was yesterday, so clearly is the start of the day in my memory (the magazine was the Sunday supplement in the paper and this was late morning, Sunday, tavern as church), and it was a time in my life when I enjoyed being a big fish in a small pond.
It was a big day, 22 years ago, when this got published in Northwest Magazine with cover art, in the same issue in which my hyperdrama "Cocktail Suite" was written up, almost a Deemer issue of the magazine, and I was bought many beers in celebration at Nobby's and my late buddy from Oklahoma Tom was there (see below), reading the story over and over again and telling me what he was finding and learning on each reading, Tom being a wannabe writer even at his age (older than I), and I only mention this because it feels like it was yesterday, so clearly is the start of the day in my memory (the magazine was the Sunday supplement in the paper and this was late morning, Sunday, tavern as church), and it was a time in my life when I enjoyed being a big fish in a small pond.
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