“Alright boys. Let’s sort out our buy-in.”
Four middle aged men dumped whatever scraps of paper they had on hand into a pile in the middle of the table. The scraps were then mixed up and divided evenly between them. Scrap Poker night had begun. Reciepts, coupons, loyalty cards and the occasional scratch ticket were the men’s currency. They played not for money, but for fun. The bits of paper only served to stand in for bills and chips.
Tonight was Harold’s night to host and deal. To his right was his old friend, Bill. Across the table was Harold’s brother, Hank. To his left was another friend, Jim.
“Ante up.”
Each threw a receipt into the middle of the table and set into their usual habits. Bill failed to identify peoples tells. Hank tried to count cards. Jim wore his hand on his face. None of the four were any good at poker. Which worked out well.
“Anyone want any drinks? Snacks?”
All eyes turned to the brunette woman as she sauntered into the room. Amber, Harold’s wife, always turned the heads of his friends. She was ten years his junior. Fit. Busty. Trendy. That night she wore a brown sundress with white polka dots. It swished around her thighs as she came up to the table with a bowl of chips.