Last week found me spending a session of $40-$80 7 Card Stud with eight players and two of them were players from the early Mirage days. Marty never plays anything but 7 Card Stud and usually plays $40-$80 or $30-$60. Doc used to play $75-$150 7 Card Stud on a regular basis but hasn’t been in the room much in the last few years. Doc has mellowed considerably since those early days while Marty has progressed into a tantrum throwing fit nit. Obviously this is about Marty.

It’s not often that I deal to him, for one thing, we seldom have a limit that he likes to play. We’ve had a $40-$80 every day almost since the beginning of our tournament. Marty’s a day player and if he’s there at night, he’s stuck.
He’s really a nit and plays very snug, very seldom ever making a bad play or call unless he’s buried.

I’d had a few sessions with him over the last few weeks in which he did his usual, “She’s a curse! She’s a witch!” It probably sounds funny but after all these years, I find no humor in it. At one point, I demanded that he not talk to me, just play poker. He did.

So back to last week, he was in the 5s and Doc was in the 7s. He made an Ace high flush on the River and raised his opponent that had a pair showing. His opponent raised back.

Marty thought about it and finally folded. The pot was damn big. He grumbled his usual ranting, raving noise that I’m sure he lays on everyone…’She never pushes me a pot. I should know better…’

I dealt the next hand. He picked up his three cards and threw them into my arm. For someone to hit me, they have to be sending them in way to high and hard. I never lay across the dealer’s box or slouch. I sit up straight and have my arms completely back towards my abdomen. I deliberately picked each card up, out of the rack, and turned it face up on the table, stating, “These are exposed and out of play.”

Marty snorted, “Why are you exposing my cards?”

“You threw them into my arm.”

“I did not!”

“Yes you did and when you hit me with your cards, they’re exposed.”

Doc asked Marty, “Why would you argue with her?”

Marty, “She’s a curse!”

I said, “We won’t mention what you are.”

He grumbled “She never pushes me a pot…”

I said, “Don’t talk to me. You play, I deal.”

He couldn’t stand it. He blurted out, “She’s a curse. She’s a witch…sometimes a bitch!”

That was enough for me, I yelled for a decision.

I was really afraid Dave N., the Mid Limit 7 Card Stud Brush would answer my call and I was prepared to tell him I wanted Suzie for a decision. Instead Nate showed up.

I said to Nate, “I’ll take you or Suzie.” I opened my hand towards Marty and stated, “I’m a curse. I’m a witch and sometimes a bitch.”

I was shuffling the next hand, Marty had his ante out. Nate picked it up and set it back on Marty’s stack. “Deal him out Linda, until this is settled.”

Marty exploded with, “I didn’t say that.”

Extreme exasperation from me, “Yes you did!”

Nate put his hand out to me and said, “It’s ok, Linda. You don’t have to say anything else.”

I dealt the next hand and Nate continued with Marty, “You aren’t going to call dealers names or throw cards at them. We don’t accept that kind of behavior. You will be dealt out until you speak with the shift manager and she decides you can be dealt back in.”

Nate walked away. Marty’s voice turned into a growl, “I’m not going to speak to any shift manager. Fuck that! I’m leaving.” He did.

Shaun, a player since Bellagio’s opening said, “Come on, Linda. We’re working here.”

I ignored him. I know he thought I was out of line in calling the floor on Marty.

When I left the game, Doc stopped me, he was laughing. “You will take it from Joe R. but not from Marty.”

He’s right. But Joe used to tease me about being a witch, even from the Mirage days and that’s exactly what he was doing, teasing. Marty is being vicious just because he’s not winning.

Doc went on to say that if Marty left the game for good, eventually the $40-$80 might disappear again. He’s right about that too but I’m not willing to be a backdrop for cards pitched in anger or called names to keep a game going.

The nuts and bolts of the whole ‘diseased mind saga’ came to light when I had a conversation with Shaun early this week. The Marty incident came up and Shaun said, “Come on, Linda…you’re too mature to let that bother you.”

Come to find out, he didn’t even know the whole story because he wasn’t paying attention to the fact that Marty had thrown his cards into me and was calling me names.

But when he did hear the whole story, he felt I should have just let it go over my head. I told him that if he sat in the dealer’s chair for a few years, he’d change his mind. He said he would let the players say whatever they wanted to say to him.

I’d take book on his not making one year before he was ready to rip someone’s liver out and show it to them before they died!