Friday, July 30, 2004

Women! Women in poker! Creating a realistic picture of the feminine side of poker has tortured and tantalized my thoughts for at least an eon…well maybe a year or so. It’s hard to find a femine side since the final product…poker…requires a complex, tangled recipe that starts something like this:

1) Prepare a table covered with green felt, have a dealer standing by, provide drinks and nourishment, run 24/7.

2) Pour all elements of human emotion into a vat the size of the Earth, add people, toss in an ocean of cash, add skill and luck to season, stir gently (there’s so much going on in there, if you ‘beat’ the ingredients, they might explode) sprinkle random cards generously over the top of the mixture, and spoon onto the table.

Congratulations, you’ve just created a poker game. Enjoy!

So…back to women.

Most people dress in a uni-sex fashion and sometimes it’s hard to tell the girls from the guys. I find it rather amusing that men can’t wear tank tops into a poker room (and bathing suits are not permitted) but women can wear anything and it’s acceptable…some of the apparel, or lack of, would border on modeling Victoria’s Secrets.

A small percentage of the women that play, play on the role of being a woman…they use it as a tool against their male opponents. Most women play the game, the way it’s meant to be played. They play in all limits and games; they are a minority but more and more women are stepping into the ‘green felt arena’ with the recent poker explosion.

While I could profile a lot of the women I deal to, one in particular comes to mind. Her name is Mary AKA Mama-mia Mary. I met her years ago at the Mirage. She’s a classic. She’s beautiful…along the lines of the sensual, mysterious beauty. Her attire is always classy (never garrish or noisy, sloppy or unkempt) and she truly represents my idea of WOMAN in any given situation.

She never seems to run out of energy…maybe that’s because she’s a tourist and can’t sleep when she gets here.

She champions the under dog, always defending the dealers if someone says anything rude or out of line to them and a few years ago, she took on the ‘Two plus Two’ discussion board when a thread appeared berating dealers (me).

She plays so many games when she takes a seat in a poker game, that most people get lost trying to keep up with her innuendos and they just give up…some of them call her ‘Mary the Mouth’ because she’s always on them and has a comment about almost everything.

Her verbal exchanges are usually flippant and meant in jest, like:

The phone person paged, “Mary Tyler, phone call, line…”

She looks at me as I’m standing waiting to push into her game, “Will you tell him my name isn’t Tyler.”

I did.

After she finishes the call, I said, “I told him your name wasn’t Tyler but it didn’t really matter because you’ll answer to anything.” **laugh**

Mary, “Especially when I have my clothes off.”

Another line I’ve heard from her when she’s in a pot with a guy and he tells her she made him nervous with a raise…

The guy, “You scared me…”

Mary, “I like my men weak and trembling…”

My view of Mary may not be like anyone else’s. I believe Mary originally played poker more for the social exchange and ‘game playing role’ (that goes hand in hand with a poker game) than trying to beat the game or be a winning player. My thought is that she stepped in to poker to escape the real world and through her experiences at the table, she discovered Mary. The bud has turned into a beautiful blossom.

I discovered Mary a long time ago…

Wednesday, July 28, 2004

I came off a three day weekend (spent with two of my grandchildren and total bliss) to this…

Monday night at the zoo.  Mama-mia-Mary, a beautiful spirit and person, was at a $20-$40 Stud game that was just breaking apart when I sat down.  We visited through most of my deadspread…more on her another time.   So far, more bliss, but wait…there’s a huge black cloud on the horizon in $4-$8 Holdem just an hour away.

The black cloud was disguised in the form of  Lupe.  Attractive 30ish, drunk on her butt, she was slamming up the game with chips and behaving like a mean mouthed truck driver/logger hours before I got to her game.  Unfortunately, no one stopped her from drinking or from behaving like a jack ass so I got the bad side of the mean mouth when I did something she didn’t like.

She was the star of the show…from her POV…and from a few of the young guys at the table.  Her blouse was unbuttoned to about mid chest and a few of them mentioned that they were waiting for the next one to pop as she straddled the Big Blind and created all kinds of confusion and mayhem in the game.   Everything was fine until she lost a hand.  She was in the 8s and both her cards went into an arial act that would put a trapeze artist to shame.  One them rolled over in the air about four times before it lit in front of the 4s and the other one did a straight, flat dive right into the chips of the 2s. 

As I scooped the cards and pushed the pot, I said, “You can’t throw your cards.  Just set them down.”

She snarled, “Says who?”

Me, “The dealer.  Don’t throw your cards.”

She did an eye rollover that one would have to question whether it was disdain or the alcohol fermenting her brain, waved her hand in the air, and said to the guy in the 9s (found out later his name is Sam), “This fucking bitch is going to be a problem.”

Maybe…just for one half of a second…I thought I would just ease through this…maybe.  I asked, “Did you just call me a bitch?”

She looked across the room like she was being irritated by leaf mold or something that stuck on her shoe.  That did it.

Andy, a chip runner, was doing a fill for the table next to me.  I demanded, “Andy, I want Nate now!”

Andy returned with Dave.  Dave is our front brush, and a three day post that I won’t get into right now, definitely not the Cavalry and I demanded to him, “I want Nate.”

Dave looked at me like a deer in the headlights, “You want Nate…”

Me, “Yes!  I WANT NATE NOW!”

As I finished the hand, Nate arrived.  I told him of the events and he spoke directly to Lupe, “You are going to have to set out for twenty minutes.  You won’t be dealt in until after this dealer leaves and I would advise just taking a walk.”

Lupe threw out her small blind as if her ears were painted on.  Nate pushed it back to her, “You are going to be dealt out…”  his conversation continued with something like this:  Most players that remain at the table can’t remain silent.  If you make another comment to this dealer, you will be asked to leave.  It’s better if you take a walk.  We don’t tolerate abuse to our dealers.

As soon as he walked away, she spouted, “I know I’m never going to tip this woman again!”


He reappeared and told her she had to leave.  She waved her arm toward the High Limit section and demanded, “Talk to my husband, he’s playing up there.”

Nate, “This isn’t about your husband, this is about you.  You’re going to cash out and leave for the night.”

There was all kinds of noise and mayhem at the table.  The 1s tried to brush it all over, “Lupe, you have to behave…”

Lupe sat there.  Her chips were already in racks and Nate just picked them up and stepped a few feet away from the table.  “Come on, this is your money, let’s go to the cashier.”

She looked at me and said, “You really are a fucking bitch.”

I kept dealing and watching the show.  A crowd had gathered and she finally made it to her feet with Nate prompting her.  After she stood up, it appeared to me that she wanted to pick up one of the empty racks in front of her and throw it at me but instead she barked, “You really are a fucking Cunt!”

I asked, “Well what does that make you, Sweetheart?”

Nate cautioned me not to say anything and she barked one more time, “You are a fucking cunt!”
She left the area, the game semi-settled down to a real poker game, and a few minutes later, she was at the Center Podium with Nate, Security, and her husband…yes, security had to be called.  Feisty little vixen.  She denied everything to Security but Nate stood his ground and she had to leave.  At one point, her husband walked over to the game I was dealing.  I thought he was going to say something to me but he looked around the table, then asked everyone, “Did she leave chips or anything here?”

The guys said, “No!  The floorman took everything.”

He left. 

Everyone  in the game talked about her, her noise, how she lost $500 every hour or so and what a boost she was for the game.  I said she was an embarrassment to herself. 

They agreed that I shouldn’t have to put up with that…gee, thanks, guys.

Tuesday, July 27, 2004

Last week I jumped into a $300-$600 Mixed game on Table 2.  E-dog, Eric L., was in the 1s.  We exchanged hellos and I asked him if he was going to Aruba for the Ultimate Bet/WPT tournament the end of the September.  He said he didn’t think so.  My statement was that he has to go, he has to defend his title from last year.  He said he’d just returned from the Aviation Club de France where the casino was robbed at ‘shot gun’ point while he was playing poker.

Ugh!!!!  Frightening to say the least but he said it appeared that they weren’t going to get hurt as long as everyone cooperated.  Another fear on his part; the Police might be outside and the bandits might cause an exchange of gunfire trying to leave.  Still another point, after the robbery attempt (not sure if it failed or succeeded), the Police wouldn’t let them leave the casino and they had a flight to catch.

He did finally agree that in Aruba, the cash in and out for tournaments is handled through the Ultimate Bet account so it’s not as dangerous as having mass amounts of money in one place.

The strange side of dealing.  Deuce to 7 Triple Draw, Eric was the button and heads-up with Jim, the Small Blind.  They went to war with raises.  On the final draw, I burned, Jim’s first card popped face up off the deck onto the table (the Card Fairy must have been at work here).  I’d never had this happen before and had no idea what to do.

I called for a decision, Carmen came over, after a moment of discussion Jim and Eric were decisive on what should be done and Nate happened to walk by to cement the rule.  Jim wanted two cards and Eric wanted one.  Jim’s card was not a wheel card which changes everything, if it was, he would have kept his card, even though it was exposed.

Jim received the second card and Eric received the third, Jim then got his last card.


A few hours later in a $15-$30 Holdem game, I watched the strangest play I believe I’ve ever seen in a limit over $4-$8.  The 1s was the Button.  Everyone between the Big Blind and the Button folded.   The Button raised, the Small Blind (in the 2s) called $20 more, the Big Blind Folded leaving heads-up play.

The Flop was 6-6-2.  The Small Blind checked, the Button bet, the Small Blind called.  The Turn was a 6.  The Small Blind checked, the Button bet, the Small Blind called.  The River was a 7.  The Small Blind checked, the Button bet, the Small Blind called.  The Button turned over K-10 Off and the Small Blind turned over 7-8 off.


I almost fell out of my chair.  What does the 2s know that the rest of us wish we knew…maybe the damn Card Fairy’s at work again…

Wednesday, July 21, 2004

I’m on a run with readers of this page.  Mark H. was in town and I finally dealt to him.  He played the $2-$5 Blind NLH game and it was non-stop chuckle and noise from all the boys at the table.  Mark went all-in and won the pot.  He threw me a toke and said, “That’s not for the pot, Linda, that’s for bringing them off smooth and slow.” 

We both laughed.  It’s always great to see him at the table.

Justin and Ramsey were in town.  They made the trip with (I think it was) five or six other guys and they were all interconnecting at the tables, drinking a lot, and having more than their share of fun.  Ramsey promised me a trip report but time will tell on that one.  He also promised to go hiking with me one early a.m. but as luck would have it, his hand kept feeding him alcohol and he couldn’t make it.  We made another hiking date for the next time he’s in town…it’s better that way, the heat is unbearable in Vegas right now and even early a.m., it’s on the scale of Hell’s Fires magnified by five zillion as far as this night owl’s concerned.

Steve from Milwaukee sent me an email a week ago and said he’d be in town, sure enough, I welcomed a new player into a $4-$8 game and he introduced himself.  It was fun. 

I hit a $15-$30 Holdem game late in the night.  The 1s was friendly and a little chatty, the game was pretty decent, and the 4s asked if I was ‘the Linda’.  His name is Jeff…another Tango reader.  By the time I left the down, the 1s introduced himself, Louie from Boston, and he had one of my cards so he could visit this page. 

Tyler was in the room, we met about a year ago from his reading Tango, and he was finishing his play at the $2-$5 NLH game as I was finishing work.  We got a chance to visit and since he was heading out the door and needed a cab to get back to the ‘Shoe’, I gave him a ride.  We got to really visit for a change, instead of his just passing by a game I’m dealing and saying, “Hi.” 

It’s always fun to meet people that know me through my writing.  Obviously they understand a little more about me than the ‘Dealer Shirt’ point of view because they read my strange mental wanderings…so far, none of them have mentioned the fact that I should be committed.  Whew!


Tonight, I dealt to the guy from Table 30, $2-$5 NLH on yesterday’s post…the guy that had the gorgeous girlfriend and he made all the noise. 

When I walked up to Table 11, he was in the 3s, with his girl behind him, and they both looked up and gave me the extremely friendly, “Hello, Linda!” 

We chuckled, while I dealt, about the game the night before.  I finally asked his name because he was so busy chatting and being the star of the show that it was hard to get his attention.  Palo.  He ended up being moved the Main Game during my down and the game quieted right down after he left. 

During this down, I ran into one of those classic happenings that just aren’t normal.  A new player sat down in the 1s.  He posted the Big Blind.  He’d given $200 to the Chip runner and we were waiting for his chips to be delivered as he got involved in the next four hands.  For some reason, this time of night on swing shift, we have one Cashier and the line is a mile long with player’s cashing out and buying chips and Chrip Runners doing Fills and Player’s Chips.   

After the first hand, the 1s owed the 9s $5.  Second hand, the 1s owed the 8s $2.  The third hand, the 1s owed the 10s $20.   Then the real corker rolled in…the 1s ended up all-in with the 6s.  GOD!  Palo was still at the table and gave the 1s two stacks when we realized the 1s was never going to get his chips in time to save me from the dreaded ‘math blues’.  Everyone got paid what was owed, the rest went into the middle and to make it all very easy, just as the Chip Runner arrived with the chips, the 1s won the pot. 

You’re right, $27 subtracted from $200 is pretty easy to figure, but what if the 1s lost that hand?  Then threw out two more $100 bills and I had to keep track of all of it along with the fact that my table bank had nothing left in it as I was waiting for a fill also…add the fact that the 1s might just be a steamer and jam up the next hand…and on and on and on!  Damn it!  I love poker and all its little twists and turns. 

If you have any NLH skills, you’re really missing the boat if you’re not playing the $2-$5 Blind game at Bellagio.  You have to see it to believe it!

Tuesday, July 20, 2004

All kinds of things coming up on the horizon…my little girlfriend, Kayanna, is arriving on Friday.  I will be at the airport anxiously awaiting her sweet, little girl face to appear from the deboarding gate and the spark in her eyes when she sees me and exclaims, “Grandma!” 
We get to go SHOPPING for little girl things and our annual camping trip to Idaho for the Family Reunion.  I will, once again, be refreshed by the child’s view of life and the simplicity in which they perceive everything.  It’s like being in a chilled vacuum for an eon of time and one day you submerge into a beautiful pool of thoughts, emotions, sights, and sounds that rejuvenate your soul.  They just love you…without any barriers.  Ahhhh, a month of bliss.
Before I fall into the sweetness of sublime existence, there are still poker games leaping and hopping  through my thoughts.
My second game was $30-$60 Holdem, a couple of locals but mostly new faces.  The 6s (an occasional player) wasn’t happy.  His attitude didn’t improve during my down.  At one point, he was in the big blind and called down to the River, he flipped his cards in and they lit on my arm.  I turned them over when I moved my arm.  He did an indignant, “Why did you turn my cards over?”
“I moved my arm.”
“You turned my cards over.”
The hand was over, the pot was pushed, and I set two cards back on my arm and went through the routine.  “They were on my arm, I moved my arm and they turned up.”
“Don’t turn my cards over!”
“Don’t put your cards on my body and they won’t be turned over.”
He semi-settled down but played through a few more hands and kept shooting his cards into the rack.  If my hands had been on the table, he would’ve nailed me.  The third time he did it, I bluntly said, “Just set your cards down here,” as I indicated a spot a few inches from his fingers. 
He stopped being a total idiot after that.  When the Blind came to him again, he took a walk.  It was a horrible game.  Very little action and I can’t say as I blame him for not wanting to get stuck in it.  You’d almost need a mask and a gun to get your money back from those guys.
I dealt two of the NLH $2-$5 Blind games.  For the most part, those games are wild as hell.  It’s a bunch of kids playing shoot out and they whoop and holler as they’re doing it…that includes drinking and doing ‘shooters’. 
I ended up laughing through most of the first one…one of the players couldn’t quit saying “fuck”.  I cautioned him on it several times and finally had him and the table laughing but the word is so ingrained in his thoughts that it kept popping out. 
I even told him at one point that he “appeared to be cleancut, good looking, intelligent, and have a good command of the English language.”
He roared and told me that looks were really deceiving.  When I left the game, he said, “Have a good fucking night, girl!”
I smacked him on the back and replied, “I learned to swear after I started dealing poker.”
They all liked that one.
A few hours later, when I dealt the 2nd one, the kid that used Fuck as a second language, was still in the same seat.  That game was back to back with the one I was in.  Both tables were kibitzing and laughing back and forth.   I got an over exaggerated, “Fuck!”  from the same kid at the other table. 
I exclaimed, “Hey Potty Mouth!”  That was a hooter for both tables.
If I thought the previous game was a riot, this one was madcap insanity caused mainly by the 1s.  He was shit talking his girl friend for her attitude when he looked at another woman and she walked up on the rail.  She was gorgeous, even by Vegas standards and its world of “plastic magic”.  He thought she heard him…she didn’t…but he almost threw himself on the table with, “Busted!” 
He jumped up to talk to her, he wanted to keep hopping over the rail so he could smoke a cigarette, he wanted to hop over the rail to talk to her, in general he was like a young bull and wanted to hop the fence for any reason.  He was also funny, animated, attractive, and very likeable.
I caught her eye and asked her to come in and join us.  He went with it, “Come on, Honey.  Come in here.”
She hung back, behind the edge of the drape, and he started, “Come on guys, help me with this…”  They all hooted and cheered for her to come in.  He continued, “I may propose if I win the next pot…” 
No one was quiet or orderly.  The game was mass conufsion and I will admit that I was right there with them.
The girlfriend finally came in and sat behind him for a few minutes.  He kept pestering, “Can I just lean over the rail to smoke.”
“Hell no!  Then you’d come back and blow your smoke in my face.”
“No, I’d exhale out there before I sat back down.” 
Lots of laughter.
I told him the Rail Jumping Police would catch him if he bailed over the rail again.  He asked me if I thought he should ask the Floor Person if he could just lean over the rail and smoke. 
I almost died laughing.  I said, “Sure, go ahead.”
He asked, “He’d tell me hell no, wouldn’t he?”
I said, “You guessed it, but go ahead and try if you want.”
It was my last down.  While I love their insanity, I love to leave it behind…which is just what I did.   Hello Time Clock!

Wednesday, July 14, 2004

A little $100-$200 Mixed game on Table 2 ended up being a typical example of how things go awry in a poker game. Odd as it may seem, it’s not the person that lost the hand that throws a wrench in the works. The game was six handed and the game was Deuce to 7. The 1s and the 4s were heads-up. The 1s drew one card and asked if that was the last draw (before he looked at his hand). He was all-in.

I said, “No! One draw left.”

The 1s looked at his hand and declared, “I’m good.”

The 4s looked at his hand for about 30 seconds and then motioned with his free hand. I assumed it was a pat hand from the hand motion. The 1s felt the same way because he laid his hand down, face up, and declared that he had a seven. I burned the 3rd burn card and dropped the deck. We always burn a card, even if everyone is pat and there is no draw…it’s procedure.

The pot was pushed, the deck pulled together to shuffle for the next hand and Lenny woke up or drifted back from the trip he was on. Lenny made the statement that there was a draw left and the 4s should have been allowed to draw. His story was that I dropped the deck before I gave the 4s a chance to draw. Bullshit!

I said, “The first player said he was good. The other player opened his hand,” (wrong statement to make to Lenny here, but in essence the player did open his free hand as if to motion that he was pat too).

Lenny went into the attack mode at me, “Did he open his hand? If he did why didn’t we see it?”

I rephrased my statement but to no avail. The 4s stammered around, making a slight noise that he would have drawn if he’d known there was another draw left.

The 1s went ballistic and asked Lenny, “Why are you being a dick?”

Lenny got on the 1s’s case because the 1s was raising his voice. The 1s raised his voice some more while the conversation boiled around. It finally settled down. I had no win so I quit trying to explain.

The 4s told me, a few hands later, that he didn’t have any problem with any of it and he would never give me any problem because he felt dealers got too much heat from people as it was.

To point out something I’ve said as least 400 times, in posts and in games, if I make a mistake, please let me know before the pot is pushed and the deck is dead…nuff said there. Hard for me to reconstruct anything when it’s all over and finished. And did Lenny know what he was talking about? NO! He was someplace else and arrived back on Table 2 when it was all over…he was the only one complaining and he wasn’t even in the hand.

Before all the hub-bub started, Sam G. waltzed into the high limit section and headed straight for Table 2. The boys in the game were making noises that he’s trying to sell his house…sounds bad for Sam.


Of course I got to deal to Sam an hour later. He was playing $15-$30 Holdem, in the 1s. He had his head in one hand during most of my down…meaning he couldn’t figure out why he didn’t have all of their chips.

It was interesting to say the least. There were only two other faces at the table that were familiar. Jim B. and Joe. Jim B. reads here and every now and then while dealing to him, he brings up something I’ve written about and he’s very familiar with the Sam G. posts. Jim was in the 7s.

Scott was sweating Sam most of the time…the obvious would mean that Scott put Sam in the game. Scott’s pretty cool…nice attitude, never harsh or judgmental and easy to deal to.

Sam took 10-3 off, in the Blind, and made a monster by filling up on the River with…you guessed it…a three for something like treys full of sevens.

Scott walked over behind Sam and Sam said, “I wish we were up there,” nodding to the $10-$20 Blind NLH game. After Scott walked off, Sam yelled at Jimmy T., “Jimmy, did you put me on the list?” Jimmy was in the 7s of the NLH game. Sam never misses a chance to hustle up a backer.

Jeff and Jason, $15-$30 players, were milling around and talking with Scott by the rail (watching the game) when Sam got involved in a hand.

The 2s was young, European, had missed his blinds and returned when Sam was the Button. The 2s Bought the Button. The 8s raised, Sam called $30 with Q-9 Offsuit. The 2s raised making it $45 to go. It was multi-way action until the Flop. Everyone called the 2s’s raise.

The Flop was J-9-undercard. The 2s bet, got one caller and Sam. The Turn was a 9. The 2s bet, the original raiser folded, and Sam raised. The 2s called. Even though the 2s was nervous as a whore in church, he still bet the River (small card). Sam raised. The 2s called. Sam showed Q-9 off and the 2s turned over J-J.
Sam ran to the rail to talk the ‘boys’ that were watching.

I looked down the table in the direction of Jim B. and couldn’t help but laugh. Not because Sam lost the hand but I couldn’t figure Sam even playing that hand in a 10 handed game, let alone calling a raise with it…but he’s the pro…I’m just a dealer. And I would have never called the 2s…I knew he had Jacks Full…hell yes! Just by the way he acted, he had a big duke.

Jason gave me the ‘look’ at end of the hand and we exchanged ‘the smile’. We both knew Sam made a bad play and then came over to explain to Scott.

Sam recouped a few minutes later, the board was K-8-little, an 8 on the Turn, he bet and won the pot. He went through all the noise, about how he felt better now, as he showed them Queen high nothing. As he stacked the chips, he said, “I’d tip you, Honey, but I had to do all the work.”

No comment.

Saturday, July 10, 2004

I met Dale. He played in a $1-$5 7 Card Stud game, the first night and $4-$8 Holdem the next night. He was in the 10s in the Holdem game and I got a chance to pick up some info on a conversation I’d overheard him having the night before in the Stud game. He’s on his way to Akron OH, early Monday a.m. to compete in the Senior Olympics. He’ll be a contender in the Discus, Javelin, and Shot Put. He promised to send me an email and let me know how he did overall. Cool!


I spent one of my downs on Table 1, $300-$600 Mixed, listening to Eskimo sing. He sang Que Sera, Sera, to Robert Williamson III, “When Robert was just a little girl, he asked his mother, What will I be? Will I be pretty? Will I be rich? Here’s what she said to him, Que sera, sera, Whatever will be, will be…” then he stopped and asked Robert, “You like that song don’t you?” not waiting for an answer, he started it again…at least three more times. And yes…he did refer to Robert as a ‘little girl’ during the song.

Robert small talked with me about his personal life and Eskimo jumped into the middle of the conversation. I’ve known Robert for a lot of years and we’ve shared food, roller skating, poker games, and lots of conversation…but I skipped out of saying too much in this game. It was three handed and Eskimo was definitely in control of the entertainment committee.

When I left the game, Eskimo was chortling out his rendition of King of The Road…when he didn’t know the words, he hummed or “Ayahhhh…deedee…dahdah…” type of thing.



Then I had the misfortune of dealing to Rusty and falling into his slime pit because I couldn’t keep from lipping off to him. I hate it when I do that. Rusty plays $15-$30 Holdem…not on a regular basis on my shift, but often enough that I know I dislike dealing to him. He’s rude to everyone. It goes like this.

Everyone at the table was a new face, except for Rusty and he was in the 6s. The 9 and 10s were young and really inexperienced. I stated to both of them that they had to have one playable stack outside their racks. They sat out a stack but everytime they called or won a pot, the chips went back into the rack. I asked them more than once about the chips…it didn’t bother them but it did bother Rusty as I found out a few minutes later.

Rusty’s a stiff…maybe $1 a year but no more, and all the heat you can handle. The action in the game was great. Rusty won a pot and then lost several. His cards came in about a foot off the table and landed in the rack both times he lost. If I’d had my hands on the table he would have hit me. The second time the cards came sailing in, I told him to set them down and I’d pick them up. He said he was supposed to make sure the dealer got them when he threw them away. I replied, “No you aren’t. You set them down, I pick them up,” and I indicated a spot about a foot from his hand.

The next hand, he set them out one inch from his chips and leaned back in his chair. I waited. He waited. I said, “Push them in.”

He never moved.

I screamed for a decision. I got James. James is new on the Floor position and not very assertive, he wouldn’t have been my choice but…

I told James that the 6s had lofted his cards into the rack twice when he lost a hand. I had cautioned him and told him to set them down. Now he refused to push them in to me. James told Rusty he had to have forward motion on his cards. Rusty pushed them about five inches, I picked them up and finished the hand.

The 10s made an obvious String Bet. I called him on it and explained what he should do if he wanted to raise. Rusty did a “You come in here ordering everyone around…”

I leaned over the table at him and said, “Would you like me to run the game the way it should be ran, or according to you?”

He shut up. We got to the next hand. He went all-in, with five or six way action and he was the Big Blind. On the Flop, it went to three players, including hate beamer Rusty. I said, “Four players,” as I burned and turned.

Rusty jumped on that one so fast I’m surprised he wasn’t suing me for whip lash. He demanded, “Where do you see four players?”

I looked around the table and said, “Sorry, three players.”

He asked again, “Where do you see four players?”

I leaned across the table at him, one more time, and said, “I’ve already stated I made a mistake, what else is there?”

He glared at me.

I asked, “You hate everyone don’t you?”

No denying it, he said, “Yes!”

I said, “But mostly you hate yourself.”

He said, “Yes…(mumbled something like)…thought you’d throw up on that.”

Me, “Nope. I don’t have to take you home with me.”

Not to worry, he played this hand with 8-2 offsuit, flopped a pair of deuces, made eight’s up when another player made a flush on the Turn, and caught an eight on the River to make a Full House. Rusty tried to go broke but the deck wouldn’t let him.

The two seat made the Flush and as I pushed him the side pot, he asked, “Why did you have to give him a Full House? I know you didn’t want to.”

Jesus! Was he right on the money or what?

One of the strange hands that happen in poker, happened in this game. The 1s flopped a set of Treys, telling the 2s that he definitely had a hand as he bet…he was going all-in and it was almost as if he was begging the 2s not to call. BTW, the 2s raised it pre-flop. The 2s called the all-in bet. The Turn was an Ace, Set of Aces for the 2s, the River a trey, Quads for the 1s. They shook hands and laughed over it.

But back to the “Freak of the Year”, Rusty. The Chip Runner walked up and said, “ok, Linda.”

Obviously she was there for a fill but I was clowning around. I asked, “You ready to deal?”

Rusty jumped in, “I’d like to deal.”

Me, “Then fill out an application, we always need dealers.”

I counted out the bank for the fill and started laughing. I looked right at him and said, “I’d like to play while you’re dealing, Buddy!”

He said he’d really like to learn to deal if I taught him. PUKE! GAG! FRESH AIR PLEASE!

I ignored him and dealt the next hand. Jesus! Does it seem like this down lasted forever? Hell yes!

I got tapped out. I did my standard, “Thanks everyone, have a good night.”

Rusty, “Thanks for everything, Honey.”

Oh my God! I headed for the time clock and fresh air, big gulping, throat expanding, lung exploding gulps of it!

Sometimes before I fall asleep, I thank God I’m me and I ask Him to never let me be like the Rustys in life when I grow up…now if I could just learn not to respond to them.

Thursday, July 08, 2004

I met a friend, through my site, in December, 2001. His name is Clark and he’d been reading the ‘dear diary’ and sent me an email. We’ve corresponded off and on for two and a half years now. I find his emails to be exceptionally refreshing, funny, and ‘off the wall’. I want to share this one. He sent it right after my post about Sam G. sending me the ‘hate ray’ looks in the post on 7/1/04.

Truthfully, I thought I’d fall on the floor and die laughing when I visited the link in his email…although his email had me in stitches also. Enjoy!

Need help reflecting the hate rays?

You are WELCOME.

Friends have a Sunday night game I’ve been invited to, so I’ve been going. Sort of. They’re kind of dorky about it–of course, one of them has to be there to be the bank and such; but they don’t seem to talk to each other about it, like who’s going to be there to do that and what time they will be available. They claimed the start time was 1900, but when I got there, it was obviously not the case. Next time, 1930 was good, but the time after that, they hadn’t started by 2100. I had been waiting about an hour, and you know, life is short, plus had to go to work the next day, and all that.

I talked to one of them about it, and she said that’s the nature of the beeste. Guess I need to find a different beeste. As much time as I waste just wrangling their logistics, I should drive to the casino. I would, but I have to sit down with $100 instead of $5, and that’s a big difference to me.

On the positive side, I played a total of four times there, and was up three and zero once. I thought that was good since we were playing dealer’s choice and not much hold’em.

They like a lot of wanker games, like Substitution and Shopping. I found out I like Deadwood a lot (7 card hi-lo 8 qualifier).

Anysway, I’m trying to play online at ultimatebet, but they require a PC, which I don’t have it, except at work, where I am afraid I will be busted down to my skivvies and shown the door with all deliberate speed if they catch me playing from their computer, even after hours with the door closed. So, I just spent a week trying to rehabilitate an old PC laptop my son gave me. I finally found the screen that told me there wasn’t any way to do that, so now I’m on the hunt again.

We had a card party and had a poker table going to be the “steno pool” for the games that require specific numbers of players (like bridge). I dealt most of the night instead of playing, and that was fun, too. Learned one of our friends is actually quite good at poker, although I don’t think he had played before. He’s not the kind of guy you expect that from, but there it is. I imagine he would be a very good player at the real deal because he is a very deliberate fellow. Anysway, I had quad 2s once, and that was nice.

Saw you on the tee vee at Aruba. Did you not deal WPT Bellagio (the one that just showed–the “championship”)? Are you watching the WPT this year? Does it seem to you like they are showing a lot less poker than last year–more stuff and nonsense? It really seems light compared to *Late Night*, *Championship from the Plaza*, and *WSoP* on Fox.

Man, we saw a GREAT semi-final game on *LN* a few weeks ago. They were all playing fast and tough and cutting each other in half. We felt wounded just watching, but it was GREAT POKER. We’d like to see Lucy Rokesh play over here in WSoP or some such.

Hope things turn out well w/your screenplay. I got rejected from *Weird Tales* about a month ago, ostensibly because what I sent them was science fiction and not a “weird tale”, whatever the ph*kk that means. It’s getting clearer to me why it is people start with books instead of short stories, but shorter stuff is what’s coming out, so…

I’ve been pricing a Vegas trip for my vacation next year. Any tips? Maybe I’ll see you at the table, if I can persuade Loui to go.


Wednesday, July 07, 2004

I started on Table 6, $20-$40 Omaha 8 or Better with a half kill. The game was mediocre. Double A must be on the losing streak of his lifetime because I never see him with a lot of chips and he’s always tight lipped and non-smiling. He’s one of my favorites, wish poker wasn’t so damn harsh at times.

The funny part of the game was when Morris won a hand. He hogged the pot and didn’t know it. They heckled him and told him he was just like Puggy. Morris said, “Puggy really had a swearing fit and gave the dealer hell today.”

I said, “Why don’t you tell him to knock it off.”

Morris, “Then he’d swear at me.”

Me, “You’re a man, you can handle it.”

Morris, “I couldn’t handle a five year old.”

Everyone cracked up. That was the high spot of the game.


There was a little rock and roller $100-$200 Blind Holdem game on Table 8. It’s been a steady happening for the last week. Rock and roll is definitely the word for it. Lots of chips and action. The player in the 5s is the biggest part of the action as he likes to play a lot of hands out of position…position hell, he just likes to play a lot of hands.

He told the other players tonight that that’s why he won $18,000 one night last week, he plays anything that adds up to 20 or 19 suited…he lied…he turned over 9-10 Off and won a big pot with it. Hello Gamble!!!

He asked once, “Isn’t that right, Linda Baby?”

I smiled and agreed with him. Far be it from me to ever disagree with someone that wants to gamble and is having a good time doing it.


I dealt a $15-$30 Holdem game that makes me wonder why anyone would ever complain about the ‘one player to a hand’ rule. The guy sitting behind his wife (she was in the 1s) talked to her in a foreign language from time to time. Neither one of them knew what ‘she’ was doing. At the end of my down, she asked if three pair beat two pair. With my best straight face in place, I explained that the best five cards played.

She turned to her husband and told him…he nodded as if he’d just figured out the secrets of the Universe.

I got pushed and ran for a ‘hand ranking’ card. Returned with it and gave it to him/her. How can you not love these games?


A $25-$50 Blind NLH game was in progress and the guy in the 8s kept throwing all of his chips in…sometimes without looking at his cards. I dealt about fifteen minutes of the game and he went ‘bust’ and left and the game broke up. A few of the players were still sitting there talking but the game was over. Word at the table was that he’d gone through $10,000…just gave it away.

I got pushed. About fifteen minutes into my next down, the guy came back. The game cranked right up again. Wonder why…

Tuesday, July 06, 2004

Most of the last two weeks found me signing the EO/PLAY list. For those of you that aren’t familair with the term, when there are too many dealers for games spread, dealers can play on shift until they are needed in the line-up. It’s a draw by day of the week as far as who gets to play and who will deal…definitely NOT mandatory. The EO is short for early out. That’s also done by day of the week. While I did win playing poker, I did not win what I would have made if I’d dealt my shifts…my fun and goofy ‘poker playing on shift’ run is over…back to the Dealer’s Box. I’m OK with that. Sometimes it’s easier to deal than it is to play and put up with some of the dealers.

Now you’re wondering how I could even make that statement since I am a dealer…it’s quite easy. Right is right and wrong is wrong. At this moment, I choose not to mention their names, some of them are tournament dealers and I really don’t know them but a few are our regular room dealers and I don’t want the torment since I have to work with them everyday.

Two dealers allowed a person to take their bet back after there was action behind them.

The following dealer is one of them that allowed the player to take his money back and she makes more noise, while she’s dealing, than a building being imploded. The dust from the building hangs in the air forever and she seems to also.

She stomp shuffles the deck, the bets coming in, the players and the action. And she thinks she’s damn cute. She turned the River card face down (but another one of our dealers did that also) when everyone was hanging in the air waiting to see it. She smiled like it was a magic act and she was in control of the card…maybe even would make it disappear. UGH!!! She allowed a guy to pull a $100 bill from under his stack and hand it to his wife playing next to him. When a dealer behind her screamed, “SEAT OPEN TABLE 16.” She screamed, “JUST FILL IT YOURSELF, STEVE…no one gonna listen to you anyway.” She informed the table that the Brush Person on shift that day was one of the worst we’d ever had…mostly she said it to me but it went out to everyone. She had no idea who won the pot in one hand because she was busy watching everyone else and being cute.

Shit like this drives me crazy. I totally understand why a lot of players hate dealers and look down on them. I also understand that, in all professions, there is always going to be someone, someplace that sucks at their job and they are never going to improve or even try to. That still doesn’t mean I have to like it. It’s one of the reasons I don’t play for months at a time. I can’t stand to tip them (and I’m expected to tip more because I work there) for doing a job ‘poorly’ done and listen to and watch them while they’re doing it.