The chips were disbursed in the 7 Card Stud Satellite when I tapped the dealer out…I would be dealing the first hand.

Right after Sam G., in the 2s, raised the opener, got called and ended up being the caller on the Sixth Street and the River, and was shown 5’s full of 7’s by his opponent, I got slammed into the middle of the Dialogue Dance Floor. Sam G. was my opponent…ahhh…errrr…dance partner.

He was grim and unforgiving as he tried to stomp my toes on every spin and turn. “Just what I wanted, a 40’s hippy for a dealer.”

I spun and stepped away, dealt the next hand, and he started again, “A 40’s hippy for a dealer…”

“I don’t talk about you when you play, Sam. Why are you talking about me?”

“Who said I was talking about you?”

I laughed.

“Why are you laughing?”

I replied, “I think you’re funny. The whole world thinks you’re funny.”

I slipped away, out of reach as I dealt the next hand. Sam lost the first two hands and then got low carded for the next three or four.

He picked the players to dance with and left me alone for a few minutes, “You just can’t out play these idiots…you have to be lucky.”

Within a few hands, he was back, “Ok, Jane Fonda!”

I busted out laughing. What the hell else can you do here? The 1s and the 3s were laughing their asses off too. The 3s kept watching me to see if I was taking offense at any of this.

He grumble, mumbled me for a few minutes, some of it was so low I couldn’t hear it and I really didn’t want to hear it. He told me he wished I’d end up on the street. I laughed even harder and managed to step on his toe, “Why would I end up on the street? I have a job.”

He grumbled that I should be on the street.

I replied, “You could always get a job if you wanted one.”

Several players agreed that Sam should get a job as Sam danced with all of us now, telling us that he played too good to get a job. It was damn hard to keep a straight face in this game. I found myself laughing all the way through it.

A sweater walked up to talk to the 1s and uttered some ‘Potty Mouth’ kind of words. Sam danced with him too, “Watch your language, there’s a lady dealing this game.”

In the midst of my spitting laughter, the sweater humbly apologized and Sam looked defiantly at me and pounced…trying to step on my toes again…”You liked that one, didn’t you?”

I demurely replied, “Yes. Thank you, Sam.”

A minute later, Sam was swearing. Then he did something like this, “An acid dropping, Woodstock Hippy in the box…” and went into some song.

I countered with, “I was never a hippy, nor did I do any drugs. While the rest of the world was doing them, I was burying a husband and trying to figure out how I was going to raise kids by myself.”

The 1s said, “This conversation has gotten a lot deeper than it should…”

I danced around him, “If you’re going to open a can of worms, be ready for what’s inside.”

The 3s said, “She’s right, she didn’t start it.”

Sam stated he didn’t have a worm, he had a one eyed snake…the boys roared over that one.

The whole game was moving briskly along all the time the ‘dance’ was in progress. I got to set out of the dance for a brief moment when we lost the 4s…he did some strange betting on nothing and, after he left the table, the conversation went to where he was and what he was thinking kind of thing.

Sam slammed me right back onto the dance floor with another statement about acid dropping, Woodstock hippies.

I still couldn’t stop laughing. I asked, “Would you just shut up?”

He asked me why and I said I couldn’t deal with all the noise going on. He asked me why I didn’t retire and get out of there. I told him I didn’t play as good as he did and had to work for a living.

He tried to stomp on my toes again…telling me I looked like his grandma.

I replied that he wished his grandma looked as good as I did. The boys roared over that one. Sam told me he wished I was talking to his grandma…I’m assuming she’s passed on and he wishes I was dead.

I said, “I like you. You just don’t like me because I deal poker.”

He said, “You never deal me a hand. You always break me.”

The dance was almost over…just a few more hands…Sam won them both!

As the next dealer tapped me out, Sam was crying, “Don’t leave, baby! Come on, honey, stay here!”

I gracefully left the dance floor and laughed my ass off all the way to the next game.

*****
I was part of this project. Sweet!
Howard Lederer’s ‘Secrets of No Limit Holdem’