I was recently introduced to Google Images, an option just above the main search bar that allows users to search for pictures.

The delayed email, advising me of this wonderful feature, arrived at 1.30am.

I was in the middle of a losing internet poker session, on a site that had had a Halloween make over. The first time I was aware of the new graphics was when I noticed an avatar wearing what I thought it was a burqa. I thought it was a bizarre commentary on the veil debate or the site trying to recruit 25% of players from non-gambling communities.

Turned out it was a white sheet, designed for acquisition of M&Ms.

Anyway, I had a large pumpkin on my head and I just lost half my stack to a guy with a hockey mask.

“Give this a go, see who you can find”, read the email.

It had to be an improvement.

For the first five minutes, whilst still playing poker, I went along predictable lines; wonders of the world, women and old school friends. I then opted for family members and was disappointed to discover no representations. There were people with the same name but no actual images of my four siblings.

I decided to put my name in. I was fairly sure it would be unsuccessful as I have never added an image, nor had I been posted there for work or activities in the criminal community.

It is a very surreal experience looking at images of namesakes.

It became worse when I saw a graveyard.

It was my tombstone.

And there were no fresh flowers.

I had to play a hand of poker as I had a pair of jacks.

I raised the stakes and found myself heads up against the East Anglian Dracula: not live, from Norwich; it was the hand of the week.

The communal cards were dealt - jack ten ace.

I had three of a kind, a monster hand.

I went in for all of my chips.

“Call”, said the undead.

I watched the chips go into the middle and the next two cards were a blur as the software, keen to keep things moving and the pennies rolling in, does not pause when all of the money has gone in.

The chips were fen bound.

He turned over queen king and had flopped “Broadway”, a straight ten to ace, a hand that beats my three of a kind.

The light went out on my pumpkin.

“Would you like to rebuy?

It was nearly two in the morning, there was no one around, it was cold, I was losing money, I had a pumpkin on my head and I was staring at a tombstone with my name on it.

“Fuck it, I’m all in!”