Luck

A couple weeks ago, my new boss, Jon asked me, “So, Rich...why are you here?”

Good question. In fact, great question. I'm a philosophy major--how could I not love that question?

Unfortunately, Jon wasn't asking me for a five minute existential monologue about my place in the universe (which is too bad because I would have nailed it). What Jon wanted to know was why I wanted to spend the summer helping him rent kayaks on the Allegheny River.

I gave him the short answer because it was all I had time for:

“Well, I used to play online poker for a living. I was pretty good, but last year, some hastily passed legislation took that away from me. I woke up one morning, the major poker sites were closed, and I had lost my only source of income. So, here I am: a thirty-year-old, washed-up card player, filling out job applications.”

Yes, that is my real handwriting

I told Jon this because he asked, but honestly, I don't like telling people about online poker getting shut down because when I do, people start to feel sorry for me. The story makes me sound like someone who is down on his luck.

And nothing could be further from the truth.

I'm not an unlucky person and if I came across that way to my new boss, it was only because he couldn't see the bigger picture.

If I had more time to answer that question, I could have explained to Jon that after college (and a brief Peace Corps stint), I had chosen to play poker for a living. No one made me do it—it was my choice. I could have started a more traditional career, but instead, I drove to Las Vegas and started playing cards.

Looking at Canada from the US side of Niagara Falls

And I didn't stop playing for five years. No work. Just poker.

I hung out in Caesar's Palace with crazy tourists and B-list celebrities. When I got tired of Vegas, I hitchhiked and rode Greyhound buses to Mount Rushmore simply because I'd never been there before. I spent half a year living a few minutes away from Niagara Falls because I liked the way it looked at night. And then I walked from Georgia to Maine.

I told Jon that it was unfortunate that I can't play poker for a living anymore, but what I didn't get a chance to say was that after aimlessly wandering around the country without a care in the world for five years, I came out ahead. I had a great run and when it was over, I ended up in Pittsburgh with a girl I'm crazy about and a kid on the way.

You don't get much luckier than that.