This is the official site of the Tuesday Night Poker club of NYC.  Here we will store news, commentary, photos, and the general history of our madcap escapades each and every Tuesday night. This site will be a virtual scrapbook and permanent online documentary of our adventures in gambling arguing and drunkeness.

Lead Story. September 4, 2001.

Pity the Fool.

The next time Hank hurls something inflammatory or derogatory your way, fret not.  Resist the temptation to return fire or lash out at the poor fellow.  For by his own admission he is less fortunate in the brains category than most.

During last week’s game Hank was distracted by his new bicycle computer, a silver dollar sized gizmo with two buttons that reports speed, distance, the time etc.   Eyes transfixed on the microprinted manila-colored instruction sheet, he peered up occasionally to perform his usual googly expression of incredulousness: rolling his eyes, slackening his jaw, and waggling slightly his thin angular head as if it had suddenly become loosed from its fastening point. 

“This is impossible!  How could they expect anyone to figure this out?”
“I dunno Hank, stick it on your bike and figure it out as you ride. Its only got two buttons”
“That’s fucking bullshit, Dan.  I’m smarter that 99% of most people and I can’t figure it out.  How do they expect anyone to use this?”

It was then, while those two continued their debate, that I turned to Edict. “99% smarter than most?” I whispered.  
“I’ll have an analysis to you tomorrow,” he responded.

Using his company’s supercomputer as well as an abacus, his fingers, a world book encyclopedia, and good old fashioned head scratchin’, Edict turned in the following results of Hanks assertion:

So by Hanky’s own admission he falls slightly below the Mendoza line when it comes to smarts.  This revelation answers a multitude of lingering questions about the man: why he had so much trouble with his little battery-powered gizmo; why he believes he could have played professional basketball; why he plays simple seven-card stud; and why his head is so small.  Though others, like his fascination for acid-klezmer and snow-globes, remain a mystery.

As for his difficulties with his bicycle; look at the bright side, Hank, given your “cerebral deficiencies” you can probably do away with your helmet.