It's break time on the patio outside the glorious Third Base single-session freeroll."what did you have last hand?"
"j-10 of diamonds."
"I would have beat you."
People beside us are playing horseshoes. They're serious horseshoes -- heavy and a little rusty -- the idea that they served as actual horse footwear many, many years back is beyond a reasonable doubt.
Ringer! Ding! One spins around the stake briefly, like an incomplete, unmotivated hula-hoop, and I just can't complete the following analogy...
archer : archery :: __?__ : horseshoes.
They're throwing too close to our table. We can hear the swoosh as the forged iron flies past our ears. But the players are non-violent and accurate, so I don't believe we're in danger.
And she shouldn't believe I had the diamond J-10. She was close, but close doesn't count in poker.
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