The Poker Room is not an American company. In fact, its Internet domain registration lists an address in Costa Rica. Gambling online is not legal in America, so American companies are not allowed to operate online casinos. This drives Harrahs and other big American casinos nuts. As far as they are concerned, American money is being lost to foreign merchants. It's not enough for these chains and the powerful casino lobby that gambling is now legal in 28 states. The big companies tout the benefits of gambling, as their boats and their rising crime rates sail into communities like Joliet, Ill. They talk about the neighborhood benefits. The fun, the jobs, the economic development. When that doesn't work, they talk about their rights to a bigger piece of the pie.

Current estimates list approximately 2.5 million people as pathological gamblers, another 3 million as problem gamblers and another 15 million people as at risk. Casinos and lotteries survive on problem and pathological gamblers. The economist Earl Grinols calculated that 52 percent of casino revenues come from problem gamblers. Of course, you never have a problem as long as you're winning.

Day 5

"He had the calm confidence of a Christian with four aces."

-- Mark Twain

It's Sunday morning. In five hours I have a reading at a bookstore in West Hollywood and the cafe on the corner offers Internet access for $5 an hour. The $7 left in my pocket buys me in for an hour and a cup of coffee.

TPF is back in the $10/$20 room with $500 in her account. Somebody bought back in because I wiped TPF out yesterday. We play one-on-one but it's early and she catches me chasing a flush with a pair of queens. It only takes a couple of hands to lose $300 and now I'm staring across cyberspace at TPF, her three dimensional graphics, her cartoonish smile. I type into the chatbox, "I am going to take you." She types back, "You are not going to take anything, never have."

The room fills and I play tight. There's five of us betting $10/$20. But pots are only $50 or $60. This is a room of people that can't afford to be here. The slow betting proves that. I buy a couple of small pots and sit tight for the monster hand. Then we're joined by Jeffage with $2,100 in his account. High roller. He bets fast and loose and players drop out but I'm winning and soon it's just Jeff and I alone. Jeff's got a tendency to bet and then fold, and once I figure that out it's time to plug in the vacuum cleaner. By the end of the hour my bank account is at $804, only $196 away from my stated goal.

The cafe waitress is tapping my shoulder when I sit out. You can win or lose $300 in a $10/$20 room in 10 minutes. It's like driving a fast car through a back-alley shortcut or drag racing in heavy traffic. You get where you're going quicker, but the harder you speed, the greater the risks.

"Where are you going?" Jeff types in.

"My time is up," I tell him.

But before I split I take one last look into the lobby. Flushdraw is there as usual. A regular, a steady. So is Major Tom, a sucker, a mark. Morenos is not around, probably sleeping off Saturday's losses. I've got a reading to go to. I have to prepare myself emotionally to talk about my topic, group-home children, wards of the court. A state system that preps our lost children for failure. I'm an expert on this topic. Perhaps I'll tell my small audience that group-home children, among other problems, are prone to excessive gambling as adults and compulsive behavior. What can we, as a society, do about that?

Day 6

"It is the mark of an inexperienced man not to believe in luck."

-- Joseph Conrad

Major Tom leaves the room shortly after I walk in. I have his heart, and he knows it. It's early Monday and I resisted the urge to play last night after having two beers and witnessing a spectacular car crash where a pickup truck trying to beat the light at Ninth and Harrison got pegged by a two-door and skidded on its wheels, then flipped over onto its hood.

I follow Major Tom from the $5/$10 to the $2/$4. I'm up $850. I'm so close to my goal I can taste it. It could take hours to make $150 on the $2/$4 table. So I head back to the $5/$10.

There's a couple of players I'm afraid of in the $5/$10 and the boards are slow. The $10/$20's empty, making this the high-roller room.

I sit for an hour running between $796 and $904. I fold time and again on jack 7's, queen suited, two 6's, only to see two of my cards flop. Playing loose I could have taken $500 easy. But I do notice a trend. With the exception of Roger666, nobody is betting very much and Roger is pulling a lot of small pots. Finally, I'm dealt an ace-4 diamonds. Roger raises and I stay in. The flop brings me two more diamonds and another ace. I have a pair of aces whether I make the flush or not. Better still, I'm one card away from a straight. I've got a great hand and all of the "dangers" point in my favor -- any additional card that improves the hand on the table improves my hand also. I raise, Roger raises back, I have a fish on the line. The hand ends with a 5-high straight to beat Roger's three aces, bringing me to within $20 of the end zone. A few hands later I come out of the big blind with two jacks and I call it a day, $1,016 to the good, pure profit for a cumulative workman's average of $50 an hour over six days of playing.

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