Wednesday, September 01, 2004

Nothing like starting over. I had posted, read, and hit ‘publish’. Ouch! Silly me for not remembering to copy the post before hitting publish. The Blogger server took a dive and so did my post only the server’s back up and my post has disappeared. So…

What if words wore out from over use, like clothes, shoes, cars, and everything else? If that were the case, the word Fuck should be threadbare and have huge holes in it. It started one night last week when Brian N. and Mike M. were playing heads-up $300-$600 and every other word coming out of Mike’s mouth was fuck. It seemed to run with the whole high limit section and since that’s where I was dealing, it’s all I heard. Nope, when I deal high limit, I never correct their inability to express themselves.

I swear. I swear for reasons…irritation, frustration, anger, and occasionally just for shock factor…after all I’m a grandma. There are times I can put a truck driving logger to shame with my ‘potty mouth’. But I tend to go for long periods of time without swearing and for the most part, I really find it annoying when I listen to people’s endless stream of profanity as their approach to expression and communication.

After spending the night drowning in the worn out word, LemLem (another dealer) and I headed for the Satellite Cage (casino employees cage) and the night’s fresh air. While racking up our chips, another dealer at the cashier window, boldly stomped out the word Fuck in a sentence. LemLem and I exchanged looks. The other dealer was male, in a room with only female cashiers and dealers. Ugh! Common courtesy and manners are dead…stabbed in the heart by mankind.

*****

Twice in one night I got the Big Raspberry Rabble for doing my job. $100-$200 Mixed Games, five handed, in a three-way action pot of Deuce to 7 Triple Draw, Ming turned up his two discards, 7-8, on the second draw. I cautioned, “You shouldn’t expose your cards.”

He was stuck and grumbling, “Why do you care Linda? Why would you say anything?”

I tried, “It’s my job?”

He continued, “The players didn’t say anything, why did you say anything, Linda?”

I said, “The players may object but prefer not to say anything. I’m doing my job.”

He continued, never slowing down, repeat…blip…repeat.

None of the other players came to my defense so I jump started the end of the conversation, “I’m out of line. You’re right. Let’s get on with the game.”

If you’re going to be an idiot, be a quiet one…that might be my new favorite.

Then a sweet little $10-$20 Blind NLH game, chips rocking and rolling in and out of the pots, tons of action, lots of money on the table.

Raised pre-flop, a hand went to three way action on the Flop…three Flush cards. The Turn brought a fourth Flush card, a healthy bet, one fold, one call. The River brought a fifth Flush card with the possibility of a Straight Flush.

One of the players (unknown) commented on who had the Ace high Flush and who had the Straight Flush.

I said, “Please don’t remind them to look for something.”

His eyebrows shot up like he’d just stepped into the elevator on the 10th floor and found the shaft instead of a car. His comments were floating in sarcasm, “You don’t suppose they know what’s on the board do you?” directed right at me.

I replied, “People overlook their hands. Don’t remind them to look for something.”

He was a little stiff but he didn’t say anything else about the hands after that.

I’m surprised that more players don’t speak up about these breaches in etiquette. We have a lot of new players on the scene and a lot of them aren’t familiar with table etiquette but the players mentioned here are experienced players and really know better.

Me? I just do my job and get ready for the Big Raspberry Rabble.