I met Dale. He played in a $1-$5 7 Card Stud game, the first night and $4-$8 Holdem the next night. He was in the 10s in the Holdem game and I got a chance to pick up some info on a conversation I’d overheard him having the night before in the Stud game. He’s on his way to Akron OH, early Monday a.m. to compete in the Senior Olympics. He’ll be a contender in the Discus, Javelin, and Shot Put. He promised to send me an email and let me know how he did overall. Cool!

*****

I spent one of my downs on Table 1, $300-$600 Mixed, listening to Eskimo sing. He sang Que Sera, Sera, to Robert Williamson III, “When Robert was just a little girl, he asked his mother, What will I be? Will I be pretty? Will I be rich? Here’s what she said to him, Que sera, sera, Whatever will be, will be…” then he stopped and asked Robert, “You like that song don’t you?” not waiting for an answer, he started it again…at least three more times. And yes…he did refer to Robert as a ‘little girl’ during the song.

Robert small talked with me about his personal life and Eskimo jumped into the middle of the conversation. I’ve known Robert for a lot of years and we’ve shared food, roller skating, poker games, and lots of conversation…but I skipped out of saying too much in this game. It was three handed and Eskimo was definitely in control of the entertainment committee.

When I left the game, Eskimo was chortling out his rendition of King of The Road…when he didn’t know the words, he hummed or “Ayahhhh…deedee…dahdah…” type of thing.

Hysterical!

*****

Then I had the misfortune of dealing to Rusty and falling into his slime pit because I couldn’t keep from lipping off to him. I hate it when I do that. Rusty plays $15-$30 Holdem…not on a regular basis on my shift, but often enough that I know I dislike dealing to him. He’s rude to everyone. It goes like this.

Everyone at the table was a new face, except for Rusty and he was in the 6s. The 9 and 10s were young and really inexperienced. I stated to both of them that they had to have one playable stack outside their racks. They sat out a stack but everytime they called or won a pot, the chips went back into the rack. I asked them more than once about the chips…it didn’t bother them but it did bother Rusty as I found out a few minutes later.

Rusty’s a stiff…maybe $1 a year but no more, and all the heat you can handle. The action in the game was great. Rusty won a pot and then lost several. His cards came in about a foot off the table and landed in the rack both times he lost. If I’d had my hands on the table he would have hit me. The second time the cards came sailing in, I told him to set them down and I’d pick them up. He said he was supposed to make sure the dealer got them when he threw them away. I replied, “No you aren’t. You set them down, I pick them up,” and I indicated a spot about a foot from his hand.

The next hand, he set them out one inch from his chips and leaned back in his chair. I waited. He waited. I said, “Push them in.”

He never moved.

I screamed for a decision. I got James. James is new on the Floor position and not very assertive, he wouldn’t have been my choice but…

I told James that the 6s had lofted his cards into the rack twice when he lost a hand. I had cautioned him and told him to set them down. Now he refused to push them in to me. James told Rusty he had to have forward motion on his cards. Rusty pushed them about five inches, I picked them up and finished the hand.

The 10s made an obvious String Bet. I called him on it and explained what he should do if he wanted to raise. Rusty did a “You come in here ordering everyone around…”

I leaned over the table at him and said, “Would you like me to run the game the way it should be ran, or according to you?”

He shut up. We got to the next hand. He went all-in, with five or six way action and he was the Big Blind. On the Flop, it went to three players, including hate beamer Rusty. I said, “Four players,” as I burned and turned.

Rusty jumped on that one so fast I’m surprised he wasn’t suing me for whip lash. He demanded, “Where do you see four players?”

I looked around the table and said, “Sorry, three players.”

He asked again, “Where do you see four players?”

I leaned across the table at him, one more time, and said, “I’ve already stated I made a mistake, what else is there?”

He glared at me.

I asked, “You hate everyone don’t you?”

No denying it, he said, “Yes!”

I said, “But mostly you hate yourself.”

He said, “Yes…(mumbled something like)…thought you’d throw up on that.”

Me, “Nope. I don’t have to take you home with me.”

Not to worry, he played this hand with 8-2 offsuit, flopped a pair of deuces, made eight’s up when another player made a flush on the Turn, and caught an eight on the River to make a Full House. Rusty tried to go broke but the deck wouldn’t let him.

The two seat made the Flush and as I pushed him the side pot, he asked, “Why did you have to give him a Full House? I know you didn’t want to.”

Jesus! Was he right on the money or what?

One of the strange hands that happen in poker, happened in this game. The 1s flopped a set of Treys, telling the 2s that he definitely had a hand as he bet…he was going all-in and it was almost as if he was begging the 2s not to call. BTW, the 2s raised it pre-flop. The 2s called the all-in bet. The Turn was an Ace, Set of Aces for the 2s, the River a trey, Quads for the 1s. They shook hands and laughed over it.

But back to the “Freak of the Year”, Rusty. The Chip Runner walked up and said, “ok, Linda.”

Obviously she was there for a fill but I was clowning around. I asked, “You ready to deal?”

Rusty jumped in, “I’d like to deal.”

Me, “Then fill out an application, we always need dealers.”

I counted out the bank for the fill and started laughing. I looked right at him and said, “I’d like to play while you’re dealing, Buddy!”

He said he’d really like to learn to deal if I taught him. PUKE! GAG! FRESH AIR PLEASE!

I ignored him and dealt the next hand. Jesus! Does it seem like this down lasted forever? Hell yes!

I got tapped out. I did my standard, “Thanks everyone, have a good night.”

Rusty, “Thanks for everything, Honey.”

Oh my God! I headed for the time clock and fresh air, big gulping, throat expanding, lung exploding gulps of it!

Sometimes before I fall asleep, I thank God I’m me and I ask Him to never let me be like the Rustys in life when I grow up…now if I could just learn not to respond to them.