Psychological torture

I got the call, " The hippies are playing this Friday".

Typically Ron and I are able to pick up a week's lunch money at a game in Lititz, but the last time we got the call that the hippies were playing we had a great time drinking beer, playing poker and meeting some cool people...oh yeah and making a little money, so when I got the call I was definitely IN.

There was one caveat as we got closer to the game, " we're not playing at the commune...We're playing at some dude's house." This was a little bit of a bummer as the commune was part of the draw. Every Friday the 13th these guys get together to play at the commune barn..it's a very cool barn filled with art, and furniture, and sculpture, and other cool stuff that gives you something interesting to look when you're not in a hand. But in any case, it was still poker with some fun guys so Friday came and off we went.

We arrived at the house on time and we're introduced to the owner..Roy. Roy introduced us to the other players:
* Josh....this is the guy who owns the commune. Nice guy, smart, hip. He's a real deal hippie, but he also is practical enough to have a day job and be the guy who owns the commune.
* Vickie.... the most recent of Josh's parade of 19 year old girlfriends. Nice enough girl. Solid card player.
* Roy's wife.... the first thing i noticed when I walked into the modest brick rancher. Hot, young, and dressed to the nines as if she were hosting a dinner party instead of a card game.
* Roy....if a Labrador puppy could turn into a human being, it would be this dude. Tall and gangly with feet and hands even bigger. Perma-grin. Loud and so fucking happy about everything that you want to run away. You get the sense that the dude gets unhappy about once a year, but that every time that happens the police need to get involved. I'll get to the rest of that in a moment.
* The last guy to show up was Bill. We had played with Bill before and I may have written about him previously. Bill is recovering from a head injury he suffered from jumping out of a second story window...TWICE. He and a few friends dropped acid and Bill started wigging out and wanting to take a shower. While in the shower, his friends left. Bill looked out the window and saw them leaving so , wet and naked, he jumped out the window to catch up with them. The resulting impact left him unconscious and the other acid tripping friends ran to the nearest apartment and called the ambulance and police. When the emergency responders showed up, Bill had come to and was sitting on the curb. The sight of of the lights and sound of the sirens freaked him out and he ran into the house. The police followed him into the house, up the stairs, and ran Bill back into the bathroom. Understandably, his only route of escape was back out the window again. The second dive necessitated 6 months in a coma and learning have to speak again. He's a nice enough guy, good ( if slow) card player, but not a big talker. I should also point out that ...rather ironically...that the commune once held a boxing match to raise money for the Green Party's anti-war efforts... Bill fought in the main event against some lightweight golden gloves puerto rican kid from the city. Despite the obvious nature of his injuries and the fact that he had no idea how to box, Bill last 3 rounds and gave the kid a run for his money. So, in short, you don't fuck with Bill.

Then, of course, Ron and I.

But back to the night at hand...

So the make-up wasn't exactly what I expected, but after some introductions and nervous conversations i suggested that we get started.

( coming next.....the basement)