Dr. Pete, so he’s known to most of us that have been around since the early Mirage Days, used to be so much fun to deal to. The key here is ‘used to’. Superstitious should be his handle now. He really believes the dealer has everything to do with a win or a loss and of course he believes that I cannot deal him a winner. It’s not true. He’s won many times when I’ve dealt to him but how could he ever remember those times?

Thursday night, the 24th, found me dealing to him in a short-handed $30-$60 Holdem game. He didn’t play the first part of my down and then lost two or three hands almost back to back. His eyes were starting roll around, like a colt on locoweed, and he was seriously trying to focus them on me. He was in the 2s and it was easy for me not to even look at him, which I didn’t. Why ruin a perfectly good view?

Pete grumbled, “I’m never tipping a cheap dealer.”

I looked right at him and asked, “Beg your pardon?”

“I’m never tipping a cheap dealer.”

I said, “If you don’t want to tip, then don’t tip, but stop talking about it.”

The game got even shorter, dropping down to four players with a walker. Pete lost another hand, his eyes were ready to blow out of his head, “Give me change!” he demanded, his voice almost cracked, as he threw out a $5 chip.

I said, “Ok!” and at the same time two of the players wanted to know if they could draw for another game. Before I could answer them, while I was reaching for the $5 chip, Pete snarled, “Give me change!!!”

I said, “Ok!” again and made the change while I asked Boba what, if any seats were available.

Pete barked another order, “Call a chip runner!”

I knew exactly what he had in mind. He wanted to tip the chip runner with a $1 because he thought it would bother me that he was tipping her instead of me.

Hysterical laughter here…stop it! Stop it! You’re killing me.

I yelled for Player’s Chips for Pete. Boba came to the table and I told him they wanted to draw for seats. He walked away to check how many seats were available in other games. I was spreading the deck, so they could draw, and Pete barked at me again, “Call that chip runner!”

He motioned to a chip runner that was coming out of the high limit section and walking towards our table. He threw her a $1 with the statement that he was never tipping a dealer again.

All of the above events happened almost simultaneously, I had 14 things going on with other players and seats and Pete kept pummeling me with demands. He was seriously losing it.

I’d had it. Boba was walking back to the table when I cut loose on Pete. It went like this, “If you don’t want to tip, I really don’t give a SHIT! I just don’t ever want to hear you talk about it again!”

I would tip him to just SHUT UP!

Boba asked, “What’s wrong, Linda?”

I explained that Pete kept needling me about tipping and I didn’t want to hear it.
Boba told Pete that he couldn’t talk about it. Pete said he didn’t have to tip if he didn’t want to, Boba agreed with him on that but still stressed the fact that Pete couldn’t talk about it. I got pushed.

Move ahead to Friday night. I passed Pete when I came in to work. He gave me the ‘look’ and turned away. I clocked in and as luck would have it, I ran into him again. Again he gave me the ‘look’.

I flatly said to him, “I don’t want you to ever say another word to me unless it’s pertaining to seat and deck changes and game related.”

He bitched, “You never deal me a winning hand, not in all the years you deal to me.”

Me, “I have no control over that and you know it. You can always take a walk when I deal.”

His brain was stuck in a repeating glitch, must’ve hurt like hell, his eyes had that maniacal glazed over look. “It’s frustrating.”

Me, “What do you want me to do? Throw the deck on the floor and stop dealing?”

“No. I can’t win when you deal.”

I gave up then and walked away.

*****

But joy of all joys, I got to deal to Sam G. $15-$30 Holdem, he was in the 1s and kept trying to mumble through the verse, “Hunk, a hunk a burning love…” interjected with “Oh why does it have to happen to me?” back to the “Hunk a hunk,” thing!

He stared at the side of my head from time to time and I totally blanked him out, there was nothing sitting in the chair next to me from my side of world.

He transferred to another game shortly after I sat down and somehow the air got fresher and the lights got brighter!

*****

I also dealt the final table of the Friday’s at Five Tournament. The 1s said, “I finally get to meet Table Tango Linda.”

A break came during my down and we got to visit a bit. His name is Scott and he won the tournament too! Nice!