Split pots. I hate’em.
After long last, and as you already know, I finally got the news that will enable me to leave this current bleak Midwestern existence. Over the last week, I won a large battle of wills over those that are constantly seeking to hobble the smooth transition to this happier situation. This quadrant of my life is certainly trending upwards. Of course, yin cannot live without yang, as this universal truth bore itself out in a more personal quadrant.
I’m sure that there is a method or rule by which the dealer determines who that lone extra dollar chip goes to. On many occasions I’ve considered trying to find out what that rule or method is. Someone that reads here would surely be able to tell me if I asked. I can’t imagine that such knowledge would be a closely guarded secret. For me, it has always been more entertaining to feel like it was luck rather than method or rule, perhaps simply an indication of which participant in the hand the dealer favored. It may be relatively worthless, but it’s some sort of consolation in the face of disappointment at the split.