I played poker with Bill Klein!

And he told this great joke. Well, let’s say he told a joke,
great. 

I didn’t tell Ruth the joke (she’ll read it in this blog at the same
time you do). I wouldn’t tell it to Laura De Carteret either who will also read
it here. I think it would be unwise to do so. As a feminist myself, I just
don’t think my fellow feminists (like Ruth and Laura and my sister, Wendy, and
others who read this blog) will appreciate this particular joke. 

But as a
fellow joke teller, I admit to some admiration. For the man. Not the joke.

You don’t know who Bill Klein is? Let’s start with that
then.

Bill Klein is a 72 year-old retired bazillionaire in a baseball cap, who now
plays recreational poker, professionally. Or maybe he plays professional poker,
recreationally. Handsome. Tall. Reedy. Steely, yet not unkind, blue eyes. Picture Henry Fonda as Ted Turner playing Richard Farnsworth channeling
my grade 13 Physics teacher, Mr. Dwosh. 

Bill Klein sold his manufacturing company and its 14
locations and its 1400 employees (well he didn’t SELL the employees, you know
what I mean) several years ago when he was diagnosed with throat cancer. When
the cancer went into remission – he’s still restricted to a liquid diet due to
his radiation-damaged salivary glands – he took up poker.

He took it up so seriously that in 2013 he finished second in
the infamous $111,111 “One Drop” WSOP tournament, the largest buy-in of any
WSOP tournament. He won over two million dollars ($2,466,522 to be exact) and
donated every penny to charity.

The man simply and purely loves the game. So much so that
despite over $4 Million dollars in career winnings (all donated to charity), he’s
happy to be playing in a $288 buy-in at The LA Poker Championships
currently being held at The Commerce Casino.

The man is pure class. He’s quiet and demure, yet playfully
jovial. He accepts wins and losses with equal grace, compliments good play when
it’s merited, and accepts poor play as part of the game. He’s your wise uncle,
stingy with words, but all of them pearls, man.

When he lost all his chips (on a valiant yet unsuccessful
bluff) he stood up and said this. “It’s been a true pleasure playing with you gentlemen. When I leave a tournament, I like to tell a little joke.”

Here’s the joke as told by the great Bill Klein. I’m going
to try to get this right. I’m going to get as close to verbatim as I can. OK,
you ready?

“This woman is doing some late-night grocery shopping. She
goes up and down the aisle. She picks up a loaf of whole wheat bread, a dozen brown
eggs, a bottle of fancy Italian olive oil, some yoghurt, you know that Greek probiotic yoghurt they all seem to like so much, three oranges, a pound of lean cut
ground turkey, and a pint of lactose-free Cherry Garcia ice cream. While
standing at check-out a man gets in line behind her, glances at her groceries,
and says:

‘Well, I can see you’re single.’

‘Why, yes I am’ she answers back ‘but… you knew that from my
grocery cart?’

‘No… it’s that you’re so damn ugly!’

Ba-dum-bum.

That was the joke.

Everyone at the table laughed heartily. All the men. Which
was all of us. Including me. I’m sorry! I didn’t see it coming. 

Now maybe if there had been a woman at the table, the great
Bill Klein would have chosen a different joke. I dunno. I don’t want to speak
for the man. The legend.

I’m a feminist. I don’t like the joke. But despite myself, I
laughed. You gotta admit, if nothing else, there’s some masterful misdirection
humor there.

Sorry, Ruth. Sorry, Laura. Sorry, Wendy. He did tell it well.
And he seems so nice. I don’t think he’s necessarily a misogynistic bastard. Probably not, right? It’s just a joke, after all, right? And good people vote for Donald Trump, right? We’re all so
complicated.

I finished 22^nd out of 208 which was good enough
for a minimum cash of $375, but not good enough to make it to day two. I was there from 7:45 PM until just after 2:00 AM.
Less than a hundred dollars profit for about six hours of work, which is a rate
slightly lower than my son Hank gets for baby-sitting.

Oh well, better than losing. And I learned a new joke.