What Is Wrong?

"Oh my god, what's wrong?" booms a beautiful bubbly blonde. 

Confused by the grim scene she finds in front of her. She turns to her friend but he doesn't know either, so she approaches the poker table.

"What's wrong?" she asks. 

Her question is met with silent stares.

"I just saw your face as I came in, you look really angry." she says to me. 


Bemused, I shrug, not sure what to say, I manage to raise a little smile in her direction.  

"Oh my god, why does everyone look so serious?"

I look around me, and she's right. After a night of solid poker, we're one player away from making the final table an yet we look more like we belong in the dentists waiting room. 

"You all look pretty sad"

I laugh. No-one else joins in though.  

"Why does no-one look happy?"

Her effervescence is failing to spread. The line of questioning isn't doing much to lighten the mood. 

She watches on, trying to make sense of it. Some cards are shuffled, some chips moved around, cards mixed and on it repeats. 

"Ugh, this is so boring"

We maintain our poker faces. Clearly the nuanced game of cat and mouse is not evident to this spectator. 

"Why is no-one having fun?" 

I laugh some more, but it's not really funny anymore. Chirpy and oblivious, she is tearing us to shreds. 

"How can you sit here and do this?"

There's no answer to her question, instead we muse over her damning assessment of our game.  

There's nothing left to say, the blonde leaves and we forge on with serious faces. 

We're a miserable bunch of bastards.