He Can’t Read My Poker Face: Life Lessons From Playing Poker With the Boys
by Debbie L. Miller
I play poker at a neighborhood bar in Brooklyn where women make up less than 10% of the players. (If you ever want to know what it’s like to be a female in upper management, the poker table is the place for you.) Some of the guys at the table would prefer I be elsewhere, but I hang in there with confidence and snarky comebacks.
Attitude is 90% of playing poker. I don’t actually know what the other 10% is — possibly sweat. It helps to have a Zen-like quality and be in the zone at all times. Sure, it can be hard to balance your poker hand and a drink while you’re sitting in the lotus position and your eyes are closed, but you definitely need to breathe and go with the flow. This is the same kind of trick you can use when some guy cuts you off in traffic and you’re trying not to track him down and smash his tail lights.
When I sense too much tension at the table, I make jokes. If I look around and see grouchy, scrunched-up faces, I make a comment like, “Woah! I guess this isn’t the fun table!” Other times, when some of the guys are straining their brains, trying to figure out what’s going on in the heads of the women players, I coo, “I’m just a nice girl from the Midwest.”
