Flop

Bernie loved the word "flop" in poker, not because the flop could make or break his hand, but also because he was intimately familiar with the word. As a matter of fact, people had been teaching him its meaning for a very long time.

For instance, in his first grade spelling bee, when he heard the word "straight" and after hearing it in a sentence, he spelled it "strait," he lost not only his geekish crown, but the admiration of Jennifer Cornwall, the prettiest redhead he had ever set eyes on. Little did he understand, at that moment, that poker would soon play an intimate role in his future.

Bernie did so love the game. He would play it on his phone, online, even watch it on television. His mother thought it exceptionally unusual that a grown man would watch other grown men sit around and play with cards for money. In the same breath, she would curse his name for never figuring out that moving away from your parents' house was not only liberating, but it might actually mean you could go about your life without worrying about discovering that your favourite shirt has been bleached from red to pink.

Sure, women understand that bleach can suck a man's masculinity faster than Lik-M-Aid through a straw. But they also comprehend the power of the slow and painful death.