While thoughts of Sugar Plum Fairies and all things mysterious and anticipated may be leaping through some people’s minds, the people I dealt to forgot it’s a few short hours before Santa visits their home. Well how would he know where they live when their presently domiciled at Table 15 or 13 or any table that has a game?
For some reason, in all the games I dealt except one, at least one person at the table was a spring loaded jerk.
My first game was $4-$8 Holdem. Whinny Whine complained because a player had been gone an awfully long time – I gave the one and only ‘Absent’ button to the stack of chips when I sat down.
After Whinny whined a few more times and kept rolling her eyes, looking at me as if I was supposed to throw the chips on the floor and get another player, I said, “I don’t make the rules. When I sat down, I gave the Absent button. When the next dealer sets down, they will give another Absent button. At that time, the player has 15 minutes to return to the game.”
Whinny folded out of turn at least six times. Each time, I prompted her to hold her hand until the player in front of her acted. “Well, he was reaching for chips…”
Finally I had her convinced to act in turn and she apologized. But another player, that plays all the time, does it every time he loses the previous hand and he took off with it, so I had to straighten him out too.
Two players took a walk and – BOOM – the rest of the table all became part of the Whine family. They weren’t going to play short handed! They wanted to draw for seats in another game.
We did have one seat open and I almost had them convinced that nine handed wasn’t a short game when one player picked his chips up and moved to another $4-$8 game. Calling the Floor Person was in order. The player had to return to our game so he cashed out instead. Another $4-$8 game broke and we got two of the players and everyone was chirpy smiley now, leaving Whinny Whine an orphaned child.
Next game? $8-$16 Holdem. Jimbo, (that’s what he calls himself and he incorporates himself, by name, into all conversations), has played on a pretty regular basis the last few months. A nonstop talker, he knows everything about poker and life and is pretty damned obnoxious to boot. He tells the same jokes over and over and gives poker lessons while he’s playing. Not to mention the fact that he tries to convince his opponents they are idiots when he beats them. He’d make a great cheerleader for a bombing mission. All in all, just a regular sort of guy, slugging down beer and playing poker.
The players were either chuckling or rolling their eyes at him during my down. I just deadpanned it when he started to tell me a joke and the others informed him he had already told it. Never even slowed him down, he told it anyway. Thank God those downs are only one half hour.
It went on and on through the night, then I got to deal to G. K. She’s been around since the Mirage days. She plays $15-$30 and $20-$40 Stud, hops back and forth between games whenever possible, plays like shit, rat holes cash if she can get away with it, talks to the dealer all the time concerning the hand, whether she’s winning or losing, and in general thinks the dealer is really concerned with whether she wins or loses a hand. And it’s definitely the dealer’s fault if she loses.
She was in the 8s and talking it up when I sat down, “How are you? – Haven’t seen you around…is everything ok?” genuine concern…NOT!
She held an Ace high Flush draw and ended up with Aces Up when her opponent already had six Spades on 6th Street. She paid him off anyway and lost a big pot.
Then she grouched at me, “I really didn’t appreciate you giving him that flush. I had an Ace high Flush draw.”
I replied, “He appreciated it.”
She grumbled at me, “Well I didn’t!”
I followed with, “Someone wins and someone loses, that’s poker.”
No, you’re right, I didn’t have to say a word to her. Maybe it’s like sitting over the Dunking Tank at the circus for 20 years and having someone throw balls at you – you just get tired of it and one day you start throwing them back.
She said, “I don’t need that analogy.”
She jumped up and transferred games. As she picked up the last of her chips, I quietly said, “Happy holidays. Have a good night,” this is standard for me and I wasn’t being a smart ass.
She stopped long enough to growl, “The reason I’m leaving the game is because of your attitude.”
I choked to keep from laughing, “I have an attitude?”
“Yes, you do!” away she went.
She’s another woman that gives women players a bad name. They can’t take a beat. They act like a man is supposed to lay down and willingly be ran over by them while they back up and rip the chips out of the man’s back pocket. Ugh!
It didn’t get much better. I went to a $30-$60 Holdem game. The man in the 3s knew everything – wait a minute, maybe he’s Jimbo’s dad…the one playing $8-$16.
He checked with a single finger flick that would have put Zorro’s blade to shame for speed. The first time it happened, I missed it. I asked him if he checked. He sarcastically blurted out, “Didn’t you see me check?”
“If I had, I wouldn’t be asking you now?”
He informed me that I had to pay attention. Hell, I need eyes in the side and back of my head and a radar unit surrounding my body plus ear plugs.
“It’s beginning to feel a lot like Christmas. Everywhere I go….”