Los Angeles was my kind of town.
It had everything an aspiring young bachelor writer could desire. Hollywood, the Sunset Strip, Dino's, jazz joints, the Los Angeles Dodgers AND poker.
When I was drafted into the U.S. Army, I was sent to Fort Ord near Monterrey, CA. for basic training. After those eight weeks of learning to march, salute, break down and reassemble my M-1 rifle while blindfolded...
...I graduated and was dispatched by train to Fort MacArthur in San Pedro, just across a body of water from Long Beach.
Luck was on my side and the Army assigned me to a Public Information Office headed by a major named Orzakoski and a gap-toothed sergeant named Jerry Hook. There I wrote press releases for the Los Angeles area newspapers, Army Times and Stars and Stripes. It was a dream job for an army recruit!
On weekends, we could walk to the beach and flirt with pretty girls in bikinis. They knew we were in the army because of the olive drab blankets we sunbathed on. Most of them didn't care and we made great progress against little resistance.
Often after soaking up the morning sun, I would climb into my car with a fellow soldier and drove to Gardena, the poker capital of the world. It was just 30 minutes from the base and it was home to a dozen poker rooms that provided 24-hour gambling action along with bars that never seemed to close. They were great places to meet single women of which Los Angeles had an ample supply.
The most popular games in the 1960s were lowball and draw, usually with a joker. The dealers also spread seven card stud, both high and low, and you rented your seat by the half hour. The rakes were high, but who cared? We were young, full of life, and thought we were indestructible.
I didn't know much about poker in those days and with my Army base pay of less than $100 per month, I didn't have much money to gamble with. But somehow I managed to hold my own against the more experienced players.
One Saturday a buddy named Randy and I headed down to the beach. We found a spot next to two fetching females who turned out to be a secretary for Capitol Records and an actress who had a bit part in a new television series called 'Room 222,' starring Karent Valentine.
My friend Randy went for Debbie, the secretary, and I connected with Kim, the aspiring actress. After a couple of hours, we talked them into accompanying us to Gardena.
"I don't play poker, but it'll be fun watching you play," Kim said. We piled into my car and headed for the freeway.
Randy decided to play five card draw and I sat down at a lowball game. The woman two seats away was a silver-haired lady in her 70s. She wore horn-rimmed spectacles, a red dress, and looked like Aunt Bea on 'Mayberry R.F.D,' the TV show starring Andy Griffith.
I jokingly referred to her as grandma out of respect, but she didn't take it that way.
"I ain't your grandmother, Soldier Boy," she snapped. I'm from Cullman, Alabama and I happen to be a poker player.
It didn't take me long to discover she was telling the truth. The dealer dealt me 6-5-4-joker-queen. Granny raised the pot, I called and drew an ace for what I thought was a winning hand. She drew one card and when I came out betting, she raised.
"Throw away your hand, Soldier Boy," she said in her southern drawl. "It ain't any good." She was right. She turned over a five-card wheel.
Several hands later she did almost the same thing, beating my pat seven-low with a better low hand. As she raked in the chips, she said slyly, 'Do you still think I'm your grandmother, sonny boy?"
The entire table, Kim included, was enjoying our banter and I found myself smiling and shaking my head!
After a couple of hours I was $100 ahead. We decided to head for Dino's on the Strip.
As I got up from the table with my chips, I bowed to the elderly lady in the red dress, and told her I felt lucky to escape with my scalp.
Author: Geno Lawrenzi Jr.
(Geno Lawrenzi Jr. is an international journalist, magazine author and ghostwriter and poker player who lives in Phoenx, AZ. He has published 2,000 articles in 50 magazines and 125 newspapers. If you want to share a gambling story or book idea with him, send an email to glawrenzi@gmail.com ).
