Supplies purchased for an evening spent sitting in front of the computer (sodas, martinis, popcorn): Six dollars and twenty-five cents.
Playing the WPBT WSOP: Thirty-three dollars.
Feeling inadequate and outclassed: Priceless.
Imagine the utter dismay of a relative poker newbie to find herself seated at a table with Spaceman, BG, Columbo, and seated to her right is none other than the Blogfather himself.
I believe my first thought was "Oh. Shit.", followed closely by "This is gonna be short, deep stacks notwithstanding."
Somehow I managed to hold on to just past the second break (my pair o' King's met April's pocket Aces and were found wanting), ending 51 out of 93. I was challenged to better myself by playing good poker, and I feel that I did a good job there. But frankly, my table mates scared the crap out of me. I mean, these are guys who live and work poker. And not only that, they know each other - they IM, they dial-a-shot, they've met.
Reputation is everything....and these guys got big ones.