Tipping is not a city in China Part III

Where was I? Ah-h-h-h-h yes, the Montana days. Those games went dry, literally, because the state legalized machines. Not like the machines in Vegas or the pay-outs that are available, but machine play that is totally designed to keep everyone B-R-O-K-E. Each establishment had a limit on how many machines they could have and each machine was licensed – OK no problem there. But unfortunately, the same crappy ‘pot limit law’ was in effect on the machines. If you put a quarter in a machine and hit 7 out of 7 on a keno game, it paid you $100. In Vegas it pays $1,750. If you put in four quarters, you could win $400. You can go broke but you can never win. That also shot down a lot of the poker games. People ran through the door and began tossing their $40 to $60 to a $100 a night into a machine rather than a poker game.

My kids were doing other things and I figured it was time to move out and on. For two years I came to Vegas, Tahoe, and Reno to deal big poker tournaments and then returned to MT, running games in small bars at times.

The trip to Vegas was my first experience with high limit and dealing tournament downs. I dealt the last Grand Prix tournament the Golden Nugget hosted in 1987. At the time Eric Drache was the poker room manager, Jimmy Knight was day shift supervisor, Doug Dalton was Swing shift supervisor and Donna Harris was the grave supervisor – that was in the tournament area and I really don’t know what the deal was with the normal room operations because I worked swing. In those days there was no % taken from the prize pool for tournament tokes and it was all left up to the generosity of the players.

I had a disgustingly, horrible time with the player’s attitudes, the fact that I was a chair and not a person, and the money was a lot less than I made in MT. I would have stayed in MT if the games hadn’t went south. It was also my first experience in dealing to Johnny Chan, Stu Ungar, Sarge, Puggy and J. C. Pearson, Doyle Brunson, Chip Reese, Seymour Liebowitz, Bob Ciaffione, and others that still I dealt to up until two weeks ago. I distinctly remember Mike Sexton from those days. He always appeared to be even keeled, rational, and relaxed. Nice!

I totally remember having a gnawing feeling in my gut and thinking I couldn’t come back tomorrow night, but I did; night after night for around three weeks, just before Christmas. It was a nightmare but I kept doing it.

That was almost time for the Mirage to open in 1989 and I applied for a job at the Mirage. The same management team had moved over from the Golden Nugget to the Mirage and I had no problem getting a job. This whole experience was shell shock, a lot of the people I dealt tournaments to for the last two years were regular players at the Mirage. There will always 7 card stud games to deal and very few holdem games. There was a lot of silver on the tables, always quarters in the $1-5 7 card stud game and also in the $3-6 holdem games. All of the higher stud games, except the $75-$150 and on up, had $.50 pieces in the rack, as did the $10-20 and $20-$40 holdem games because silver was used in the rake.

There really were not very many big tips thrown around in those days, and I almost die laughing when I visualize some of these fresh, new dealer’s reactions and behavior if they were to get a $.25 or $.50 toke. They’d probably stop the whole game and have a coronary. But it was a living, just as dealing is always a living, just like playing as a pro is a living, or cleaning toilets is a living, etc. etc. etc. Those were the days when a Adeeb walked through the door and everyone wanted to deal to him. You can include me in that list also. I dealt to him twice in one night, because he was in a must move game and moved into a game right in front of me after I’d just dealt to him. Roger King was another one that was great deal to but that type of players were few and far between. The normal was to go and make your bucket of change, throw in a few blue chips, and an occasional Redbird, a green chip once every five years or so, and all of the abuse and noise you could stand.

Why did I do it? Because I was hooked on poker and it was also a lucrative living and pretty damn good money considering it beat the hell out of minimum wage and every day found me with $$ in my pocket, even if I started out broke. But the people are what have always held my attention. I love the insaniacs, the loons, the down to earth, the real, the wild, the weird, the whole damn picture is mind boggling.

On the matter of tipping, some players brought in bags of candy and when they won a pot gave the dealer a piece of candy. Some players offered to take you to dinner if they could get a comp (I’ve always thought this was extra special, it makes me want to puke). Other players state, “I would tip you but I’m not winning.” Some players always consistently tip one dollar, no matter what the pot size is, no matter if they are stuck or winning, even in the early days at the Mirage. Some of the older retired players consistently tipped a quarter or $.50 but most of those players live on monthly income and they are never going to raise their income level, it never bothered me to receive a $.25 tip.

Let me rephrase that – one time it bothered the hell out of me. It must have been about 91 or 92; I was dealing a $3-6 holdem game that had so much action in it the chips were rolling off the table onto the floor. There were several new faces and one of them was the two seat, she appeared to be about 27 or 28 years old, very, very nicely dressed, her hair was styled and she looked like she just stepped out of a fashion magazine. There were a couple of older gents in the game and they were gambling like crazy but they also knew how to play the game and the beauty in the two seat was running over them.

One hand, one of the older gents flopped a set, the other gent – who knows what he had? The whole table was in on the action every hand was maxed out. This hand was somewhere around the middle of my down, the beauty won it. It took me for ever to get the pot to her, that’s how big it was, and as she stacked, she continued to jam. She threw me a $.25 tip. I thought the two older gents were going to come up out of their chairs, one of them asked me if I just didn’t know who to deal to. (I’ve never learned).

I took the $.25 tip, wrapped it lightly, said thank you, and continued to deal. The last hand I dealt was another screamer; the pot was gigantic and of course the beauty in the two seat won it. I was pulling the deck together, getting ready to exit the box, and over the mounds of chip she was trying to stack, she pushed a single $.25 toke at me.

I’m not sure why it bothered me…bothered hell…in truth it totally pissed me off. Maybe it was the fact that her handbag and shoes look like they cost more than my wardrobe did but whatever the case I was fried. There was no way I was picking up that tip. I stood up said, “Thanks everyone,” and turned to my next game which happened to be directly behind the two seat. I was about a foot and a half from her. Before I could push in to the next game, I felt a tap on my arm, I turned around and she was holding a $.25 toke out to me telling me I’d forgot it.

I said, “thank you!” and threw it up into the sports book somewhere. I sat down and dealt my next game.

*Guess this is another Post poned*

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