The dream started off with me, Charles, and a bunch of guys I used to play mid-stakes no-limit poker cash games with, back in Orange County, CA. We are in this house, in the suburbs, and it looks like we are all watching some game on the TV. I lean over to Charles and say “Why don’t you and I start a regular cash game; it would be fun!” We go back and forth about the timing and logistics, how much the buy-ins should be for. A small detail I recall is that we settled on $300 as the transaction increment, and I recorded this in a g-sheet.

The next thing I know we are at a game, playing cards. Everyone is dealt two cards (we’re playing no limit holdem), but as I glance to the player on my right, I see that she’s been dealt at least a dozen cards. She’s laid her cards out as if she’s playing solitaire, and no one thinks this is unusual. I look at Charles, who’s sitting on my left, and he smiles but doesn’t say anything.

At some point me and Charles are standing up near the kitchen (there were a number of people around us, and now the setting felt more like a party), and the host appears.

It’s Kelly Loeffler.

She was talking to someone else and notices me from the corner of her eye. She leans in towards her friend and says the following (while raising her voice to ensure I hear it too):

“You know why they make hollow point bullets?”

The lady she was speaking to asks “why?”

Kelly moves her body and looks at me and says: “Iranians”.

Keenan Constance