Leap Poker

Tonight is the first ever, and quite possibly only ever, LEAP POKER!

I had a moment of epiphany the other day when I realized that this was a leap year, and my first thought was: that gives me an extra day of billing.  My mind was fixated on the fact that my billing quota for the year is the same but I have an extra day in which to bill hours towards that quota.  What the hell is wrong with my priorities?  Life just gave me a bonus day, and I want to spend it workin’ for the man?  No!

So all you billing machines, get out of the office and splash through some puddles!  Go to a two hour lunch!  Shop online from your computer and read internet comic strips all day!  And all you current clerks, take a moment to appreciate that you get to spend one extra day in the greatest job you will ever have.  Embrace it by actually reading all the cases cited in the briefs and taking time to think about the law while you still have the chance.*

In celebration of Leap Day, we will be playing “leap poker,” also known as “Omaha,” or “high-low.”  That means that the player with the worst hand can “leap” over the player with the best hand and win it all.  It’s crazy, and confusing, and it only happens once every four years.  If you don’t know how to play poker, this is your night, because everyone will be on equal footing, and being bad might actually be the best strategy.  Pocket Dolins—time to shine!

It seems like an 8:30 start time is what people like these days, but RSVP to let me know otherwise, and feel free to arrive in advance of the start time, that way we can actually start at the start time, since we have been calling it quits early (midnight) these days as well.

*Unless I wrote the brief, in which case DON’T read the cases cited, just assume that they say what I want them to say.

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Old Lady Poker

Ever so quietly, over the weekend, I lost a dear loved one–my youth.  That’s right, I turned 30 on Saturday, and I have been complaining about osteoarthritis and fibromyalgia ever since.
I decided to forgo a giant birthday bash, and just spend my last night as a 20-something wearing sweatpants on my parent’s couch, eating ice cream, watching Battlestar Galactica, and crying.  A fitting way to ring in my twilight years.  And although I have started to notice some fine lines around my eyes, I am retaining my youthful acne, so I guess it’s the best of both worlds really.
Goodman is out of town tonight, so it’s just me and a bunch of cats.  I will be wearing a valour jogging suit (that’s how jersey girls age) and watching Matlock.  Doesn’t that make you want to come over and play bingo?  But I don’t have bingo at my house, so I guess poker will have to do.  Bring prunes and ben gay.
You know, when I was your age, poker would go until 3am every week and 20 people would be there starting at 7:30pm.  We had to walk uphill both ways to Dolin’s snooty apartment, sneaking moonshine past the prohibition enforcers.  We all wore suits back then.  It was a more formal era.  Our conversation was smart and our phones were dumb.  The world was our oyster.  The sky was the limit.
Today I ate an entire wheel of cheese for lunch and took a nap sitting up at my desk.
There is an Inn of Court session tonight, so I will need a bit extra time to get back to the house and straighten up before hoards of drunken young whippersnappers show up.  On the other hand, old people go to bed early, so I don’t want to start too late.  Tonight’s Inn topic is “Careers in IP” which doesn’t really interest me since I am nearing retirement age.  I will hobble out early if I can.  Ergo, I guess 8pm is a safe start time.  Please RSVP.  Senior citizens don’t like surprises.

Groundhog Poker 2012

Groundhog Poker has become a sacred tradition in the CAFC clerk community, deeply rooted in the union of our passion for complaining about the weather with our debauchery and commitment to trash talking each other.

This year, however, I think we can safely forego consulting rodents and just declare an early spring.  I wore a light jacket this morning and was sweating by the time I got to work.  I saw a sports bar advertising outdoor patio seating for the Superbowl.  I think the cherry blossoms are expected to bud next week.

Since we clearly don’t need a weather forecast this year, let’s instead take a trip down memory lane and recall past Groundhog poker reports…

Groundhog poker 2011: “Greg Dolin emerges from a rank-smelling hole in search of his shadow.  Spotting the vile silhouette, he cried a nasal ‘feck!’ and scurried back below signaling six more weeks of poker.”

Groundhog poker 2010: “A groggy Mike Tyler emerged this morning from his post-birthday hole of stale liquor and spent nicotine patches and saw his shadow.  Six more weeks of poker.”

Although groundhog poker 2009 was not memorialized in an email, my recollection is that it was my debut poker, I shattered a wine glass at Erica Andersen’s apartment, Neal Hannan told me that I would never be invited to poker again, and I ran down a hole and cried for six more weeks of poker.

Looks like it’s about time we had an early spring!  Some come on down to [——-] tonight at 7:30 pm and don your favorite springtime apparel.  Bring wild flowers and Easter candy and tell Punxutawney to shove it.  Please RSVP, as my powers of predicting quorum as not as good as a groundhog’s ability to predict six more weeks of winter.