You sit down in the dealers box, scramble up the deck, and shuffle and deal the first hand of your shift. The player in the 3 seat has “the look” tattooed on his/her face – can’t be removed even with laser surgery. Of course you know what “the look” is. There’s anger, hatred, frustration and blind, stupid, ‘I’m to dumb to figure it out’, pouring out of their eyes and it’s all directed right at you.

Win or lose, that player is going to try to make your life as miserable as possible throughout the short time you spend dealing to him/her. Their cards either come in just short of light speed or they sit one inch from the player’s hands.
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