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Saturday, 1:20 PM
I think I’ve been drugged.
I slept 14 hours last night. Stepping out of the shower at 12:35 PM, I put in a casual call to the tournament desk to find out whether the $1,000 + $70 NLHE started at 2 PM or 3 PM – I saw both online when I was back home earlier in the week.
“That tournament starts at twelve o’clock, hon.”
“As in twelve-o’clock-thirty-five-minutes-ago?” I asked, probably not in a very calm tone.
Pause. “Yes.”
“What time can I register until?”
“Until 12:45.”
That’s how my trip to Mississippi, the cradle of American poker and the Blues began.
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