Wednesday, July 28, 2004

I came off a three day weekend (spent with two of my grandchildren and total bliss) to this…

Monday night at the zoo.  Mama-mia-Mary, a beautiful spirit and person, was at a $20-$40 Stud game that was just breaking apart when I sat down.  We visited through most of my deadspread…more on her another time.   So far, more bliss, but wait…there’s a huge black cloud on the horizon in $4-$8 Holdem just an hour away.

The black cloud was disguised in the form of  Lupe.  Attractive 30ish, drunk on her butt, she was slamming up the game with chips and behaving like a mean mouthed truck driver/logger hours before I got to her game.  Unfortunately, no one stopped her from drinking or from behaving like a jack ass so I got the bad side of the mean mouth when I did something she didn’t like.

She was the star of the show…from her POV…and from a few of the young guys at the table.  Her blouse was unbuttoned to about mid chest and a few of them mentioned that they were waiting for the next one to pop as she straddled the Big Blind and created all kinds of confusion and mayhem in the game.   Everything was fine until she lost a hand.  She was in the 8s and both her cards went into an arial act that would put a trapeze artist to shame.  One them rolled over in the air about four times before it lit in front of the 4s and the other one did a straight, flat dive right into the chips of the 2s. 

As I scooped the cards and pushed the pot, I said, “You can’t throw your cards.  Just set them down.”

She snarled, “Says who?”

Me, “The dealer.  Don’t throw your cards.”

She did an eye rollover that one would have to question whether it was disdain or the alcohol fermenting her brain, waved her hand in the air, and said to the guy in the 9s (found out later his name is Sam), “This fucking bitch is going to be a problem.”

Maybe…just for one half of a second…I thought I would just ease through this…maybe.  I asked, “Did you just call me a bitch?”

She looked across the room like she was being irritated by leaf mold or something that stuck on her shoe.  That did it.

Andy, a chip runner, was doing a fill for the table next to me.  I demanded, “Andy, I want Nate now!”

Andy returned with Dave.  Dave is our front brush, and a three day post that I won’t get into right now, definitely not the Cavalry and I demanded to him, “I want Nate.”

Dave looked at me like a deer in the headlights, “You want Nate…”

Me, “Yes!  I WANT NATE NOW!”

As I finished the hand, Nate arrived.  I told him of the events and he spoke directly to Lupe, “You are going to have to set out for twenty minutes.  You won’t be dealt in until after this dealer leaves and I would advise just taking a walk.”

Lupe threw out her small blind as if her ears were painted on.  Nate pushed it back to her, “You are going to be dealt out…”  his conversation continued with something like this:  Most players that remain at the table can’t remain silent.  If you make another comment to this dealer, you will be asked to leave.  It’s better if you take a walk.  We don’t tolerate abuse to our dealers.

As soon as he walked away, she spouted, “I know I’m never going to tip this woman again!”


He reappeared and told her she had to leave.  She waved her arm toward the High Limit section and demanded, “Talk to my husband, he’s playing up there.”

Nate, “This isn’t about your husband, this is about you.  You’re going to cash out and leave for the night.”

There was all kinds of noise and mayhem at the table.  The 1s tried to brush it all over, “Lupe, you have to behave…”

Lupe sat there.  Her chips were already in racks and Nate just picked them up and stepped a few feet away from the table.  “Come on, this is your money, let’s go to the cashier.”

She looked at me and said, “You really are a fucking bitch.”

I kept dealing and watching the show.  A crowd had gathered and she finally made it to her feet with Nate prompting her.  After she stood up, it appeared to me that she wanted to pick up one of the empty racks in front of her and throw it at me but instead she barked, “You really are a fucking Cunt!”

I asked, “Well what does that make you, Sweetheart?”

Nate cautioned me not to say anything and she barked one more time, “You are a fucking cunt!”
She left the area, the game semi-settled down to a real poker game, and a few minutes later, she was at the Center Podium with Nate, Security, and her husband…yes, security had to be called.  Feisty little vixen.  She denied everything to Security but Nate stood his ground and she had to leave.  At one point, her husband walked over to the game I was dealing.  I thought he was going to say something to me but he looked around the table, then asked everyone, “Did she leave chips or anything here?”

The guys said, “No!  The floorman took everything.”

He left. 

Everyone  in the game talked about her, her noise, how she lost $500 every hour or so and what a boost she was for the game.  I said she was an embarrassment to herself. 

They agreed that I shouldn’t have to put up with that…gee, thanks, guys.