I'm a beaten grub. I'm hanging up the poker shoes for the forseeable future, at least until I can find a job. Which had better be within three weeks.

I'll leave you with my final two hands that broke my bankroll. One online and one live. Both fittingly with my nemesis: pocket Aces.

It's not just that hand, though. Of the past 23 SnGs that I played online, I placed 3rd three times, 2nd once, and lost all the others. In each, I really felt I played the best I could. And I consider SnGs my specialty?

So I take my final $400 to NL 6max.

Blinds are $2/4. Win, lose, win lose.

Then I see AA and groan out loud. I raise $25 because I don't play around with AA. One person calls, the same person who's called my raises twice before and has hit on the river. He has 2x my stack.

Flop is rags with three s. I don't have a . I'm first to bet and protect as much as I can by going all-in for $275. Too aggressive? I would not have made this move had it not been heads-up.

Guy pauses for his entire time clock, and I expect him to fold. It's a no-disconnect-protect table, so he can't cheat and disconnect intentionally.

He calls, and I groan again.

Hands aren't flipped until the end (and even then, just the winner), so no suspense. Just upset stomach.

Turn is a Jack.

C'mon, let's get it over with.

No , no , no .

River is a .

His cards: 4-4.

With a .

Thanks, Poker Gods.

He must have put me on a bluff with AK or AQ or overcards, but even so, how could he call that? I could've had any to beat him, for crying out loud.

And I start doubting my play, whether I should have bet smaller or half my stack rather than push all of it, which made it look like a scared bet. But then I think no, even if it were a stone bluff, that bet didn't give him the odds to call.

My stack is $0, my 'roll is $0, goodbye online.

§
I rented DVDs for three days straight to get the AA stink off me.

And also to get inspired for a screenplay, because if I'm going to be taking a break I want to have something to show for it.

Hostage with Bruce Willis, that I enjoyed much, much more than I expected to. It combined too many genres, though, and ended in typical horror (Christlike Crow figure emerging from fire to die for our sins, yada yada). There's a confusing bit at the end with Kevin Pollak's intentions, but if I think about it one way, it works. Bruce Willis gives a terrific performance, a sentence I didn't think I'd ever type.

The Jacket and Constantine with hubba hubba Keira Knightley and Rachel Weisz, respectively. I seem to watch certain movies based on the female stars (except trainwreck Tara Reid in Alone in the Dark, which I saw in spite of her dismal acting -- she ain't no Bruce Willis, that's fer sure). Both of these I also liked much more than I thought I would, based on the trailers in the theater. I watched The Jacket twice and picked up more nuances, but am disappointed that it's the same movie as the classic Jacob's Ladder (which took from An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge), and I would've preferred another ending. So would the filmmakers, it seems, since they attached a few alternates in the DVD extras (however, all of them I believe still point to the same outcome).

Speaking of same movies, I flew to the theater and caught Flightplan, where two key plot points are pulled from (or make homage to) The Lady Vanishes -- the disappearing female on a mode of transporation and the finger drawing on the window as evidence (no spoilers; both are detailed in trailer). Flightplan is a fun romp watching Jodie Foster kick more Panic Room ass, but I wish they'd gone in a different direction. For the plot to work, a series of events had to have unspooled perfectly, which in hindsight falls apart. A better commentary (as well as better conspiratorally) on society would have been if passengers and flight crew see and interact with the daughter, then deny it happening from peer influences.

Crash -- overhyped and overbearing with the overtired race angle, but ultimately redeems itself at the end in a Magnolia kinda way. Really liked Mr. Reese Witherspoon, which led me to The I Inside, a fun little Jacketish amnesia flick without the war overtones. Sandra Bullock's idea of improvising is to preface a line with, "You know what?" I think she's said that in each of her movies. Shoot for that Oscar, Sandy, way to go.

Alone in the Dark, White Noise, and Boogeyman, all three lessons in how not to make a movie. Bad movies on top of jumbled action sequences that are unclear and CGI messes. Alone in the Dark has the added benefit of how not to cast a movie. Listening to the commentary, it was clear the director didn't want Tara Reid in the role and doesn't think she belongs in the action genre. Neither should the director who was mighty proud of his schlocky flick. As was the entire cast and crew of Boogeyman, which just lavishes praise on lack of originality. I did like Emily Deschanel, though, who looks and sounds exactly like sister Zooey, and really doesn't belong in this movie.

Hide and Seek with the Dakota Fanning muppet. I'm no longer impressed by her acting, because she's just a 40-year-old Oscar winner crammed into a 10-year-old body. I wouldn't be surprised if she's entirely a George Lucas CG creation.

The Incredibles and Kung Fu Hustle -- loved every minute of both. Highlights were Dash's little feet running away from the bad guys while coming to realize his true power. And the fat guy throwing knives at the landlady, only to stick 'em into Sing.

§
Sunset Station has sadly ceased their Step tournaments, an experiment which never caught on, much like my own full-time poker play the past nine months. A couple times I tried signing up for the $50+5 Step 2 on Tuesdays, but they couldn't fill more than half the table.

Fortunately, they've replaced the Steps with daily Sit-n-Gos at noon and 6 p.m. daily.

Sunset is also pushing to get their NL game to be more popular than it is (where it was only running on the weekend). For this month, they'll buy dinner for the first 10 players at 5 p.m. Okay, so it's dinner at the cafe, but it's still good and there's tableside service.

I visit Sunset to pick up my free gift of a bathroom scale. Like I need a reminder of how much weight I've gained (most of it's water and buffets) since I've moved here, but it's actually a nice addition since I would never buy a scale of my own.

While there, I pass by the poker room and stand at the rail, watching the no-limit table. Floor manager Pete spots me and waves me over, pulling out the empty chair.

I'm out of cash and need to conserve money for my rent, but I did have $300 that was going to go toward food for the next couple months. Rent was just paid for October. November would be a struggle, but I could manage through credit card cash advances. What have I gotten myself into, I keep asking myself.

Pete again motions toward the empty seat, and I relent. I figured if I lost the $300, that would signify the end of my poker career.

I start with a wimpy $100. The max is $300, with blinds $1/3. $100 wouldn't get very far, with every player having more than $100. But I didn't want to risk my full $300 just yet.

The table was typical of what many NL tables have become, where many flops are seen for cheap and the skill lies in post-flop play.

After a couple orbits, it was crystal clear who the tight players were, the loose players, and the bluffers.

The lone woman at the table calls everyone down but never raises, even with the nuts. Twice she catches a better hand and just calls me. Saves me money. Then again, I would've folded to just a minimum raise.

Two other people flop trips vs. my top pair.

Just isn't going well, I'm not catching cards, and I'm down to the felt within 90 minutes.

I'm about to leave and preserve my final $200 when applause breaks out at a 3/6/9 table. My hope of a bad beat jackpot being hit dissolves when I find out someone flopped a royal flush. The September $1000 promotion for a royal is still going on at the Station Casinos, and the guy won the pot plus a grand. Not bad at all.

I decide to play out my last $200. If I lose that, not only am I going home, I'm going home without dessert and without poker for quite awhile. But at least I'll have a scale.

I win a couple small pots without showing (one with AA, which I really wanted to show but didn't).

I lose a couple medium pots with showing.

People continue to limp preflop with big hands. One player in particular limps with AK and AQ. When his cards are flipped at showdown, I'm dumbfounded that he didn't raise and let the blinds and limpers in. AQ held, but AK choked him because his limp enabled someone else to flop two pair with Ace-rag.

I wait patiently for hands, not even calling the extra $2 from the SB with low connectors and big-gap suited cards. Notice someone in MP play 23o, flop trip 2s, and have lots of action and a $500 pot when someone else runners two pair with AQ (and who didn't raise preflop). Someone else flops a flush draw with 10-5 suited and makes it on the turn. What a game.

Me, I can't bear to play 23o or T5o even on the button with everyone limping. A weakness in my game?

Then I get AKo in the SB. With seven limpers, it was worth it to thin the herd or just take the $21 gimp pot down right there. Unlike the rest of the table, I'm not a fan of limping with big hands -- particularly from early position -- unless it's been raised preflop.

I flick in several red-birds, not even looking to count. The dealer counts it as $30 more, or $31 total.

I wanted it to look like I was stealing, though any observant player who's watched me over the past two hours would have noticed that I hadn't yet made a move like that.

The tight player who limped with AK and AQ is the BB. He thinks, then calls. Of all the players at the table, he was the one I didn't want calling.

But then again, I did want him to call, because I knew his range of hands to call that bet.

He's the only caller, and I have $101 left. Translated to real money: a couple dozen Sonic cheeseburgers to feed and rescue me from running out my player's card points in buffets.

To show a sign of strength, I ostentatiously begin stacking my chips in preparation to go all-in on the flop. In reality, I was going to make the move if an Ace or King fell. If neither did, I still wanted it to appear that that was my plan, while squinting to my left to see what he was going to do. I don't know what I actually would have done if no Ace or King appeared, but I probably would've done the same to represent a big pair and not give him the odds to call.

With his hesitation at the $28 call, I put him on AQ or a big pocket pair like QQ.

Flop is A-Q-8 (rainbow).

My heart now sinks at the thought of AQ or QQ.

I'm the 10seat and he's the 1seat, so the dealer's in the way of my getting a good read. From him staring at the flop and not looking at or playing with his chips, I sense he didn't like that Ace.

In a continual motion from my previous stacking, I push and hope for the best.

If I'd bet half my stack and he called, it would've committed him to see the river. Better to just go all-in now.

I cut the chips and flick the white chip on top. Dealer says, "One-oh-one." (Later, the floor came by and said that amounts must be in increments of $5.)

When he doesn't call immediately, I know I have him. I reconsider his holdings to AJ or JJ. If he had KK, I'd think he'd reraise me preflop.

He has to fold. He has to. The longer he pauses, the more I think he's teetering toward calling in the hopes of catching.

With my luck, he'll catch.

I consider flipping over my Ace to encourage him further not to call. But that move may work against me; besides, if he has an Ace, I actually do want him to call.

He counts out his chips, restacks, then counts them out again.

Just as it looks like he'll fold, he calls!

Now I can't put him on JJ (and would he really have called preflop with AJ, the tight player that he is?), he must have KK or KQ.

I have my headphones on listening to Opie and Anthony (who, to reward you for reading this far into my pain, interview Phil Gordon on Oct. 4 in this link to the MP3), and I remove my left ear, though it wouldn't do any good other than to hear my own screams.

The dealer raps the table, burns and turns and burns and turns. Rags.

I flip my AK and gesture with my hand as if to say, "What else could I have had?"

He just holds his cards, and now I fear slowrolling. If he slowrolled one card at a time, I was liable to punch him in the kidney.

But he doesn't, and he simply mucks his cards.

A big sigh of relief from me, and I pop my left earbud back in, tip the dealer a few whites, and stack the chips.

If you thought I lost the hand, I didn't do a good job foreshadowing.

A few hands later, I pick up AA in early position. I think about folding.

I raise to $25 and 10seat reraises to $50. I feel he's trying to get back at me.

I again think about folding.

I reraise to $100. This is telling him to fold his darn small pair, yes?

He goes all-in.

Typical with AA and me and flashing back to my final online hand earlier this week, pocket Aces are like my ex-girlfriend Jennifer who looked and sounded like an older pre-crash fetish Lindsay Lohan (before there was a Lindsay Lohan) but who kisses like a tree frog. Jeez, what a bad analogy. Suffice to say, Aces look good on paper but haven't been treating me well lately.

I remove the earbuds completely now and think, "Goddammit." And not in a good way.

I again think about folding. I don't think I can ever laydown Aces preflop, unless perhaps close to the bubble in a tournament with a few people at the table all-in. Weakness?

He covers me by a few chips, and I call for my remaining $218 (technically $215, but the dealer didn't say anything).

I flip my Aces, people at the table ooh and ahh. He doesn't show. I put him on KK or QQ.

The flop is K-K-6.

I hope for QQ. I dread 66.

Now he decides to flip his cards. Go on, show your freakin' quads.

But I'm wrong about KK and QQ. He has AK. Suited, which I guess was enough of a percent advantage to him to justify going all-in against a 3bet.

I reclassify him from my original tight player category, but it doesn't much matter, as it's my last hand.

I burn an image of him into my memory, though, because one day I'll get him back.

(If he had simply called my 3bet, the two Kings on the flop would've slowed me down, but he would've gotten the rest of my chips anyway. I would've bet $100, he would've smooth-called. And by that point I would've been committed.)

I drive home, desperately reviewing my play, wondering if there's anything I could've done differently. Because it's much better to think I'm at fault and have some semblance of control in the game than to think I'm simply a slave to luck.

When hell, I could've just put all of it on black at the roulette table. Not just all of it meaning this past week's hands. But all of the thousands of dollars I've lost since moving here. Same end result either way.

Okay, time for that break. Hopefully by the time I post again, I'll have a job, I won't get nauseous when seeing Aces, and luck will return.