Medium read for a long weekend: My scariest poker moment is the time I laid a bad beat on a guy only to be greeted by gunfire. (1/8)

It’s 2008 and I’m attending law school in Miami. One night I go to a shoddy card room on the edge of the Everglades and play the “big” game: $2/$5 NLH. My bankroll isn’t exactly flush at this moment in time, but I quickly figure out others are in much tighter spots. (2/8)

Around 3:30 am, I make a terrible call with top pair against bottom two, for all of a guy’s $500 or so stack. Turn is a brick. River gives me trips and the sucking sound is louder than a vacuum. (3/8)

Here’s the thing: it’s late and I have class the next day. But I don’t want to hit and run, and I have a hunch this guy just lost his rent money to me. So I decide to stay until he leaves. He proceeds to min-rebuy and auto-fold everything, staring at me frequently. (4/8)

Meanwhile, it’s getting later and later. No windows, but I know sunrise isn’t far off and I don’t want to sit in Miami traffic. So around 6:00 am, I pick up about $2k - which is a lot to me at this moment in time - and cash out. But the guy follows me. (5/8)

He cashes the now-blinded $100 and change stack he’s been nursing. I don’t have the common sense to ask for an escort to my car. So, with a sense of horror, I just walk toward the doors, with him on my heels. (6/8)

As soon as I go through the doors and daybreak hits my eyes, three shots go off - boom, boom, boom. I hit the ground and basically make a snow angel sans the snow with my face and arms against the pavement. This is not how I want things to end. (7/8)

Guy chuckles, walks right past me, gets in his car and drives off.

It was at this precise moment I realized the Miccosukee casino was built directly adjacent to a firing range. (8/8)