The Thursday night one hour dealing gig

That one hour of dealing, that I said I would get back to on the What’s a Pennis Post, is a giggle all by itself. I started that hour by dealing the $40-80 Mixed. In general, it’s the same players. It’s kind of like playing extremely high limit, if you aren’t in the top of the field, you’re a feeder of the game because there’s not a lot of fresh money coming in…recycle those $$$. In this one, R.W. was in the 4s and managed to pull out a ‘scooper’ on the River in Hi/lo regular. His opponent was in the 5s and new to me. The 5s made some comments thatR.W. made a super draw out on the River to take all of the pot. R.W. exclaimed, “She knows who the $3 tipper is here at the table.”

R.W. is a gem in the game when it comes to the dealer’s perspective. I laughed and went on with the next hand as the talk continued around the table about tipping and how Jeff Pierce always brought his roll of halves to the table. I never said a word. They shredded him on his stingy attitude, so why get involved in any of it. Then the subject of J.C. Pearson popped up, his anger when he won and his anger when he lost. This time I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I said, “He’s the only player I’ve ever dealt to that will play every hand during my down, just to prove that if he wins a pot, he doesn’t have to tip me!”

Some of them marveled at that statement and made their own noise in exclamation. But for the most part, all of them agreed that he was a walking bag of black karma and that he never, ever, tipped anyone. Lisa said she saw him tip once. We were all laughing over it. I followed up with, “I hope he never tips me. I hate to tell anyone like that ‘thank you’. It would ruin my day.”

My next game was a $2-5 NLH game, the one the departing dealer grumped me out about standing out of her way so she could exit the box. All of these people were having fun, except the 9s, but she never has fun when she plays anymore.

The 4s was from the UK, heavy accent, young, had no clue but he was ready to put chips in the pot. He managed to raise with A-KD and then got reraised all-in by A-A. The 4s was covered by A-A. But…King on the Flop…hello King on the Turn, which also put three spades on the board and the A-A held the Ace of Spades…but the River was a cruel torrent snatching away $200 or more from the A-A.

The game went on. A few minutes later, Button in the 8s, the 4s folded immediately. I exclaimed, “Time! Hold your hand until it’s your turn.”

He grabbed his hand back and waited. The 3s raised to $50, the 4s stacked out $50 (yup, this was after he’d thrown his hand away out of turn). I stopped him. I didn’t believe he could call because it would be like taking a shot – not in his case because he had no idea what taking a shot was – but I called for a decision. The decision, after a bit of discussion was that he could call. No, he didn’t win the hand, he didn’t even call a bet on the Flop.

Out of nowhere, he handed me a rose he’d made out of a big yellow napkin. “This is for you, Linda.”

Sweet! I thanked him. He messed around in a few more pots and it did dawn on him that people were tipping me. He even gave me $2 before I left the box. That was sweet too.

If Poker isn’t part of your life, it should be damn it! Join FullTilt PokerStarsTony G.UltimateBet AbsolutePoker – and play online with me. I’m an early a.m. players for the most part. Send me your handle or post it in comments here and we can chat while we jam.