I always pride myself on being a good dealer, for a lot of reasons, not just pushing the pot and reading the hands, but being aware of body language and what’s going on around me along with great mechanical skills that I’ve fine tuned over the years.

Well tonight kind of blew that right out of the water…I think I qualify for the worst dealer of the year award. I made a mistake in the $50-$100 Pot Limit Omaha game when Jan – 5s, bet $2,000 using four $500 chips, and the player in the 1s called using $100 chips.

The 1s stacked them out neatly in four stacks but there were only four to a stack. I just didn’t see it. I pulled the bets into the pot, and thankfully didn’t slam the pot together so they couldn’t be identified…those four stacks were still setting on the edge of the pot barely tipping over.

Sammy F. caught it. As brutal as he is to some of the dealers, he was extremely gentle and soft spoken with me. He said, “Linda, he only called $1,600.”

I did something like, “Oh my God!” I looked at the pot and sure enough, he did. I pushed the 1s’s bet back out and he corrected it. I apologized profusely as the 1s showed Jan a Flush which was King high.

Jan held his hand for longer than necessary and then chastised me for missing the call. I apologized again. He went into a wee bit of a rant, “What if I had an Ace high Flush, my pot would be short…..”

Again, I told him I was sorry. Hell, I feel worse about it then he does. I know it sounds crazy but I like to be on top of what’s happening in the action. As it turned out, the 1s won the hand but this type of lapse on my part is really bad.

A player came into the game a few minutes later to play over, chips were counted down and a play over box was in place and I started to deal the player in. Ugh!

Sammy said, “No!”

I countered with, “It was done last night.”

Sammy looked at me like I was a 5 year old that didn’t quite understand why I couldn’t fly a kite in a lightning storm and said, “He’s playing over.”

I just went with it. But believe me when I tell you, they were being dealt in last night.

Earlier in the night, I dealt a $20-$40 Omaha 8 or Better game with a Half Kill. I did another ‘pot mistake’ there. The 10s was the Big Blind of $20, the bet was raised. He threw in a $100 bill and pulled back his two $10 chips. I counted his change out of the pot and gave him back $80. As I pulled the pot in, I knew I had to have $160 for four players and there was only $140…I had to think about it before it dawned on me what happened. I told him he owed $20 more to the pot and explained what I did. Luckily for me, Jim was in the 8s and he verified my error. The 10s put his money in without saying anything.

Making a Fizz ball mistake is one thing, (something that doesn’t affect the pot or the hand), but this type of mistake makes me really leery of my own ability to focus on the game and then I get a little ‘stretched’ as the shift goes on. I beat myself up, threw me against the wall, drop kicked myself through a plate glass window and now I’m ready to write a green felt tale.

I started my day/night in the Tournament. Antes were $200, Blinds were $800-$1,600. Three of the players at my table I knew by name, Bruno, Bob Stupak, and Dave AKA The Devil Fish.

I barely looked up during my down because I didn’t want to miss anything in the action at the table. Several hands were long and quiet while a player faced a large bet or raise but no one went broke and there were no screams of agony. At one point, while waiting for an exceptionally long time for a player to make a move, four players were walking around and all of a sudden, “Oh, when the sun beats down and burns the tar up on the roof
And your shoes get so hot you wish your tired feet were fire-proof…”

It was Devil Fish, microphone in hand, singing Under the Board Walk, a sweet old tune performed by the Drifters.

Then I was out of the table, on a break, and looking for Andy Bloch. Suzie brought him up to me as I was dealing heads up Razz to O’Neil and Vasilli on table 1. They were shooting it up in a little $300-$600 duel so I did manage to get a few words into Andy. He was heading home.

Now just to show you how much attention some players pay to what’s going on in the game, table 1 has the Shuffle Master installed. It takes approximately 45 seconds for the machine to shuffle. The first hand was raised, fold, and the machine was still shuffling. Vasilli asked me if I would go ahead and shuffle and deal the next hand instead of waiting for the machine. I smiled at him and said, “Sure, just for you.”

It worked out well, I had the hand shuffled and dealt by the time the machine finished. In almost all instances when there was no action past 4th Street…machine one hand, Linda one hand, alternating shuffling action. Half way through my down, O’Neil said, “Use the machine too.”

Well…Ok!

My next game was Doyle and Barry playing Chinese Poker. They were playing two hands each. The player in front of the Button got the 1st and 3rd hand and the Button player got the 2nd and 4th hand. Lyle arrived and so did Minh. They had a little mini argument about what games they would play and in what order and I ended up dealing a few hands of Deuce to 7 Triple Draw before I got pushed. Funniest part of it to me is that they never argue about the limit. It was $2,000-$4,000 Blind Pot Limit when they hit the Omaha game and No Limit when they hit the Deuce to 7 Low Ball.

Then off to $80-$160 Omaha 8 or Better with a 1/4 Kill, and then $30-$60 Holdem in which the 7s won two hands back to back and then couldn’t wait for me to leave as he kept motioning and groaning, “Come on, Linda. Do something.”

He liked to play…he was sure I did it to him every time. He went out to smoke on the last hand I dealt. He was leaning over the rail from the Sports Book when I left the Dealer’s Box and he yelled…yup…yelled, “Go on! Get out of here!”

I started laughing and told him I would check with my supervisor and see if I could come back through in half an hour. The night seemed to last forever. I could’ve sworn that I was at each table for five years but the Time Clock said I’d only been there eight hours when I clocked out. Must be a full moon.