The end of “Post-poned”. $4,000-$8,000 Omaha 8 or Better and $1,000-2,000 Blind PLO. There were some serious amounts of chips on the table.

Sammy F. – 1s with a sweater…blonde, cleavage to the extreme. They were drinking something wonderfully, tangerined color in long stemmed flutes…frankly I wish they’d bought me one – or even offered. Swear to God, I might have chugged it before my butt hit the dealer’s chair…just kidding!

Phil I. – 3s hidden behind a mountain of chips – as in he had most of them on the table – and he had multiple sweaters…a guy with a good looking chick sitting on his lap.

A full rack of $500 chips sat alone in the 4s.

Minh – 5s doing what he does best, watch everyone else and wait for a hand.

Lyle B. – 7s had a sweater also. A guy I’ve never seen before.

Chip R. – 8s. Chip was the usual Chip, quiet. On the phone for part of the down.

I announced, “Time pot!” spread the new deck, shuffled, and asked Minh if the 4s was a player. He took off in his hard to understand English and said no, then continued for another two or three minutes, speaking to me and the table but looking directly at me as he expressed that I was smart enough to ask, some of the dealers just sat down and dealt the rack in. I nodded and kept dealing as he kept talking.

Sam was totally focused on his sweater and when I told him the action was to him, I had to put my hand on his arm to get his attention. He grabbed his arm and jumped into a fake, “Ouch! You’ve hurt my arm,” as he smiled at me and asked how much he could sue for. Then he demanded, “What game are we playing?”

I laughed. I thought he was kidding. They were only playing two games and we were on the fifth hand of Omaha 8 or Better. I told him. He turned to his sweater and told her I was the only dealer he liked, threw his hand away, and went back to the ‘sweater business’.

The next hand was almost a repeat of the first, Sam demanding to know the game and folding. He and Lyle had a thing going on between them that wasn’t obvious when I first sat down but grew into their own personal game in the middle of the game.

There was some chip passing going on from Phil I. to Lyle, Lyle to Chip, Lyle had a score sheet and a pen in front of him (before you take off with this isn’t allowed in poker room rules, this particular game is a game played by a select few. If they want to pass chips, etc., it affects no one but them because there isn’t a waiting list. They play against each other all the time and know each other better than a lot of married couples know each other).

Sam was playing to his audience. He goaded everyone to throw out the Omaha 8 or Better and just play PLO. His sweater danced to his tune…maybe he was dancing to hers as she agreed with him. When he raised, he exclaimed, “Raisey Daisey!” When he called, he exclaimed, “Calley Molley!”

His sweater repeated his raisey daisey thing on several occasions and I couldn’t help but chuckle. It was quite a show. At one point, Lyle was facing an all-in bet from Sammy, in which Lyle was prodding Sammy if he was playing behind. The discussion took about five minutes and finally Chip had to interject to move the hand along. Sammy and the sweater were agitating Lyle about ‘did he bring more money with him…how embarrassing to run out of money in Vegas…’

I can’t imagine Lyle ever running out of money in a poker game so…

The show went on. Lyle called Sammy’s all-in which was around $40,000 and Sammy won with some freak hand that gave him two pair…like sevens and deuces against Lyle’s A-A-K-?

During one hand, I knew it would happen this way, it was action pre-flop with a raise, and Sammy asked me how much was in the pot. I said, “Hell if I know!” as I counted it out…$35,000. It was the only hand that I didn’t know what was in the pot so I had to be asked how much????

There was so much going on, it was hard to focus on the game. At one point, Sammy was doing the dialogue dance with Lyle and forcing Lyle’s attention to Sammy’s sweater. Sammy even reached behind her back and jiggled/wiggled her bra up and down. Lyle was all ‘eyes’ and so was Lyle’s sweater.

My front row seat ended a few hands later. As I waited for the next dealer to finish the hand at table 3, I turned to Sammy and whispered, “Thanks for saying I’m the only dealer you like.”

Not because I really believe I am but it makes it much easier to survive these downs if you can get along with the players.

He queried, “Oh…you heard me say that?”

His sweater jumped right in with, “He really paid you a great compliment.”

Sammy told me I understood the player’s mind. That’s why he likes me.

Oh God! That’s the side of it that scares me sometimes…I really do.