"You deserved to lose!"

I was playing at the Rio tonight. The guy on my immediate right was a jerk to everyone.

The height of it came in one crucial hand. I don't remember the exact betting sequence, nor the exact board cards. Trust me, the details aren't too important. But I had J-10 offsuit, and the flop had been 10-9-x, rainbow. He had raised before the flop, but he was doing this with maybe a third of his hands, so it didn't mean much. I had called from the button.

On the flop, he checked, I bet, he called. The turn was a 5, I think. He checked, I bet again. He thought a bit, then moved all in for $71 more.

This gave me pause. I had him covered, but this was an overbet of the pot. I don't like committing a lot of chips with just top pair. But it was hard to give him credit for a bigger hand. I rolled through the hands that would have me beat, and there just wasn't anything that really fit what the betting had been. I couldn't completely rule out a flopped set, but I didn't get any sort of vibe from him of that kind of strength. I had been playing with him for a couple of hours, and had seen him when he had the nuts, and, though I couldn't list specifics, his whole gestalt radiance was just completely different than what he was showing me now. Furthermore, the only other time I had seen him aggressively move all in had been a bluff; when he was really strong, he tended to make small value bets.

I didn't rush this. I took at least a full minute thinking it through, and finally concluded that I probably had the best hand. If I was wrong, OK, but I thought the chances of being ahead were high enough to be worth the call. I counted out the chips and pushed them in.

The river was another 9. I wasn't going to show my cards until he either showed or mucked, because he was one of these jerks who never want to show, trying to just wait out the other guy, hoping he'll show first. Well, I have the patience of Job in that situation. We can sit there all night if that's what it takes.

It didn't take all night, but he did take at least a full ten seconds before he finally exposed his cards: A-9 of clubs. He had had just second pair, no flush or straight draw, then hit his miracle river card. He had had five outs when the money went in. I showed my cards, as kind of a message to him and the table that I had had him thoroughly nailed.

OK, so I made the right read, had the courage to back it up with my chips, and got unlucky. It's annoying, but it happens--just part of the game. I would normally not say a word. But he had irked me with how long he took to get it over with. I'm emotionally cool enough that I don't sit there on pins and needles, in agony over whether I won or not. I either won or lost, nothing I can do about it, and ten seconds out of my life is pretty paltry. So if he was trying to make me fret and sweat, it failed.

Still, rude is rude, and what he did is generally considered one of the most unforgiveable breaches of etiquette one can pull at a poker table. I hate people that waste everybody's time for no reason.

So I said, "Nice slowroll," as I pull out another C-note. (He didn't break me, but it got me below the amount I like to have in play.) He said, "What do you mean?" I can't really believe he didn't understand the term; he has played in the WSOP, and certainly has enough experience to know what I meant. But I played along: "How long does it take you to show your cards?"

His response was bizarre: "I had all my chips out there already. What else was I supposed to do?"

So at this point we seem to be talking past each other. I have no idea what his chips had to do with it. But I decide it's not worth pursuing, and tell him, "Never mind."

He doesn't want to drop it, though. He says, "Anyway, what the hell are you doing calling with jack-ten there? You deserved to lose, making a call for that much money with that!"

Now this amuses me. When people reveal a level of stupidity beyond what I had judged them capable of, it always amuses me. I said, "So I shouldn't have put my money in with the best hand, huh?"

He said, "Not with that! You don't call that much with just a pair!"

I actually laughed at him. Sorry--couldn't help it. It was so absurd. This idiot genuinely believes, apparently, that the right way to make a call decision is based on the dollar amount involved and the absolute strength of one's hand. But I think it's safe to say that prevailing wisdom is that what really matters is the strength of one's hand relative to that of the opponent--which is exactly what I had spent all that time pondering.

His comment ended our lovely little chat, because I realized I was in a battle of wits with an unarmed man. I just chuckled at him, said, "OK, dude" and broke it off. He repeated something about what a bad call I had made, and I just smiled.

Morons and jerks are everywhere, often rolled up inside the same body. Can't do anything about it other than laugh.