Just Call Me Capt. Kirk

It's Friday night in Las Vegas. I am playing Texas Hold'em at Binion's Horseshoe and I am doing extremely well.

The cards are falling for me and I am over $600 ahead. As I rake in another pot, someone taps me on the shoulder.

He is a slim well-dressed black man in his 30s. Smiling, he hands me a card and says, 'When you're free, I'd like to talk to you.' Then he steps back to the rail separating the on-lookers from the player.

I glance at the business card. It reads, 'DANIEL KIRKLAND, POKER PLAYER AND DEALER. THE ONLY FRIEND YOU'LL EVER NEED.' It lists a phone number. I tuck the card away in my pocket and continue playing.

After a few more hands, I decide to take a break. I walk back to the rail and he is standing there, waiting for me.

'You're a good player,' he says, stretching out his hand. 'Congratulations.'

Then he explains his proposition. He is a dealer at one of the Strip casinos. He is also short of cash and wants to borrow $40 for a buy-in.

'I play poker on other people's money,' he says. 'Lend me the buy-in and I'll give you half of my winnings. I don't squirrel away any chips. Ask the dealers about me. They know I'm honest.'

I admire his direct approach and say I will think about it. Then I return to the table. The dealer's name is Josh and he has lived in Las Vegas a long time. I ask him about Daniel Kirkland.

Josh smiles. 'I know he's a dealer and i hear he's straight,' is all he will say. 'Some of the guys think he's a pimp because he almost always has a couple of attractive girls with him. I think it's just because he has a smooth gift of gab and they like him.'

'He wants to borrow money from me. Would you lend it to him?'

Josh shuffles the deck and cuts it. 'Sure,' he said. 'It's only $40. I don't think he'll burn you for that.'

I take $40 out of my pocket and return to the railing. 'Here's the cash,' I tell him. 'But if you aren't honest, your bank is out of business. Remember that.'

Kirk smiles. Two pretty girls are standing next to him and they smile.

'I'll see you in a little while,' he says. 'You won't be sorry.'

Time passes. I lose track of Daniel Kirkland. All the tables are full and I don't even know where he is playing. Around midnight I am thinking of calling it an evening. Someone taps me on the shoulder.

It's Daniel Kirkland. He hands me an envelope.

'We're going to the bar for a drink,' he says. 'If you're free, you're welcome to join us.'

He leaves with the two girls. I open the envelope. It contains $375 in cash.

I walk to the bar and we drink until around 3 a.m. One of the girls accompanies me back to my hotel room.

Daniel, who nicknamed himself Capt. Kirk, and i became good friends. He is still dealing in Las Vegas, still handing out his card to winners and still playing on other people's money. If he approaches you, listen to the story of 'the only friend you will need in Las Vegas. You won't go wrong.

Author: Geno Lawrenzi Jr.

(Geno Lawrenzi Jr. is an international journalist, magazine author and ghostwriter and poker player who lives in Phoenx, AZ. He has published 2,000 articles in 50 magazines and 125 newspapers. If you want to share a gambling story or book idea with him, send an email to glawrenzi@gmail.com ).