The world keeps spinning, life keeps moving forward, and if we could time travel, we might find the future is a repeat of the past. Who knows where our path takes us — and why? Do we have choices or is the path laid from the time we are conceived? Continue reading Time does change everything
I went back to find posts about Devilfish — Dave Ulliott — just to refresh my own memories and here are a few:
the time pot. Dealers changed every 20 minutes at the Grand Prix at the Golden Nugget. Every time we slid into a new table full of
bright, smiling ‘I’m gonna die if I don’t win the next hand’ faces, we collected time. Continue reading The rake, the drop, the drag…
Of course I got to deal to Karate Don again. Somewhere in a dark cave, buried in the bowels of Death Mountain, there’s a stone tablet that contains certain rules of dealing. The first one is: Thou shalt deal repeatedly and continuously, night after night folding into countless eons of bad experiences to the same player that you had a problem with the night before, on into time eternal. Continue reading Return of the Rudes
Does he really know karate or practice it? Who the hell knows? How did he end up with that name? Who the hell knows! I’ve been dealing to Don since somewhere in mid Mirage days. He’s got a reputation as a steamer and being a bit demented. His eyes even take on that strange look at times; you know the look, the one where you expect him to detonate the entireplanet just to get one person. And if he reads here, no problemo from my side. Continue reading Karate Don
I had this organized, little list, tucked neatly away in my brain, of all the things I would accomplish on my days off…but I had a visitor that screwed up my whole yard work plan. Rapping, tapping, shredding, and ripping through everything. Hello, Wind! Did you miss me? I haven’t missed you but then it’s hard to miss something that never goes away. Continue reading A run-in with Devilfish, Herschel loves me, Sam G Lips off
Help Mrs. Wizard! There’s a lobster trap off the coast of the Poker Pit and I’m trapped in it! Oh my sins of Neptune…I’m being throwing into the cooking pot and it’s filled with a roiling mass of $50-100 PLO! 1s – Tony, 2s – walking, 3s – Herschel (a few posts on him last year) 4s – play over, don’t know his name but I remember him, 5s – Asian, unknown to me, 6s – S.C., appears around tournament time, 7s – Eskimo, 8s – name unknown but familiar, 9s – none other than the dreaded Devilfish.
Someone crank up the flame, I’m starting to cringe as my butt hits the seat and the 5s throws a $5,000 Baccarat chip to S.C. and wants him to change it. My antennae are up and I know I’m asking for more heat but I do my job. “That chip is not in play and not allowed on the table.”
Continue reading Trapped – $50-$100 PLO
Just as the room was a screamer, now it’s hit the other side of noise and confusion. It’s liveable. One can visit without screaming, faces take shape and resemble someone you really know instead of someone you think you know, the lists are not 60 deep, and we even have open seating with empty tables in the room. Phew! I knew the day would come but wondered if I’d live to get there.
Something that has created a wrinkle in my brain and I can’t let go of it…Curtis B. was removed from Bellagio because he reportedly head butted an engineer in one of the bathrooms. A few days later, he was back in the room.
A few months ago, he was reportedly removed from Bellagio for striking a sweater that was with a player in the game Curtis was playing in.
Out of the blue, Curtis is back. Excuse me while I throw up here!!!! What does all of that mean?
I find it hard to believe that someone capable of physically striking someone else is allowed in any establishment.
Another side of it that I find hard to believe is that anyone that was 86’d or removed from any establishment would return to that establishment.
Color me weird here. If I’m ever 86’d from someplace, they would have to send me a gold engraved letter from the owner of the place begging me to return…guess it’s a pride thing.
I sat right down in a $15-$30 Holdem game. The first hand dealt, I called the wrong hand as a winner and mucked the best hand. The 1s had the best hand and calmly asked me, “Would you turn those cards up please?
Shit! I haven’t done that in a million years but believe me, sooner or later I will and tonight was the night.
The 1s was wonderful. Not only did he NOT grab my arm and try to choke me to death, he threw lots of money in my pocket every time he won a hand. Geez! The Poker God really is looking out for me! She’s wonderful.
Something that has nothing to do with poker. If the asshole down the street doesn’t go out and kill his car alarm, I’m going to go out and kill him and his car alarm.
I followed Jim tonight. While dealing a $4-$8 Holdem game, I watched and semi-listened to problems Jim was having on the game in front of me which was $30-$60 Holdem. J.J. was having a fit with Jim.
A note on J.J.: Years ago, at the Mirage, J.J. played $20-$40 Holdem. He was filled with complete insanity for the game and played every night. His wife sat behind him now and then and he always seemed to win, not necessarily while I was dealing, but he always had chips in front of him and JAMMED it up every night. He laughed and giggled while he played, stacking chips and throwing them in the pot before he even looked at his next hand.
He did what most players that start too high too fast do. He dimmed over the years into the player that can’t beat the game, one that won’t adjust his play, one that always has a reason that he lost a pot or didn’t win and it wasn’t because of his play. He’s played intermittently for the last year or so.
J.J. and I definitely remember each other and we are not on bad terms, although he likes to make a statement when I deal to him that goes something like this, “Linda, you know I love you but you never deal me anything,” as he goes out to smoke.
This statement is totally ludicrous. Of course I’ve dealt him hands that he wins with…go figure.
On to tonight’s events. J.J. was having a huge FIT with Jim. Jim called the floor, then asked for the Shift Supervisor because he needed help. Kamell appeared and spent some time talking to J.J. and eventually I pushed Jim.
On the last hand that Jim dealt, J.J. waved his hands in the air and yelled, “Get out of here.”
Jim hadn’t even pushed the pot yet and he defended himself with, “I’m not going anywhere.”
It was ugly.
Jim left, I sat down and dealt. J.J. made a few comments about the fact that he had lost with A-A and Jim smiled.
Sorry kids but I smile a lot of times when I’m dealing. A friend walks by and nods hello. The guy next to me says something. The guy across from me smiles at me. How the hell can I not smile. It doesn’t have anything to do with the hand.
J.J. played up and down for a few hands, he was short chips. He made the comment, “Ok, Linda, put me out of my misery,” when he went all-in once. Sounds like a scene from ‘They Shoot Horses Don’t they?’ but we’re talking poker here.
He ended up going all-in on another pot and leaving the game. Someone noted that he’d whizzed up about $2,000 or more winner and then whizzed down through all of it.
Me? I try not to note any of that. I do note the player that thinks they are supposed to win every time they enter into a pot. I pay attention to the player that thinks I did it to them. Hey…those are the people I want to play poker with!!!!!
On the fun side of poker, my last down broke up early with the players drawing for seats in a new game. Pete, Graveyard Supervisor sat down to lock up the game and someone came up behind me and started giving me a back massage.
Pete said, “Don’t be trying to get on the good side of the dealers, Gus.”
It was wonderful and went on for a few minutes. Gus Hansen put his face next to mine and said, “I don’t have the energy for a full body massage.”
I grabbed both of his arms and pulled him around me, demanding, “Come here!”
We visited for a few minutes…damn I love poker!
The car alarm? I called 311, got the transfer to dispatch. I have to go out and find the car, license # and address to report them.
When I called back, they told me that if I knocked on the door, it would be faster than them getting there!
CHRIST! If the car alarm hasn’t brought them into the real world in four hours, how the hell is my knocking on the door going to do it?????
Let alone the fact that I’m a single, white woman…”Oh Boy, dipstick, let’s go knock on the neighbor’s door and wake them up at 6 a.m. with a complaint!”
Guess that’s why I love poker…no license plates or home addresses or phone calls…just shut up and deal!
Andy’s back. Everyone said he wouldn’t return after the licking he got last time. I knew better. I knew he would come back, he has to come back. He showed up around 5 p.m. and played Chau, $50,000-$100,000, on Table 1. Continue reading Andy Beal is back in action
The room started out fairly quiet and then went bat shit along about midnight. I was never even close to dealing high limit…yippeee…but the whole room was abuzz and insane over it and the players. Continue reading Ben Affleck and the Stars Came out to Shine