The promised post…this is how it started. I hit the poker room and got slammed back into the parking lot by all the noise and body heat. It was wall to wall people, sound that never had a beginning or end but kept rising, and poker action.

I had gone into the office, clocked in, and Cuckoo was meandering down the hall way to the office. He stopped to talk to someone and gave me a half assed nod – like he knew me from another time and place but I didn’t place high enough in the gray matter data base to be truly acknowledged. As I was walking out of the office, I asked, “What the hell kind of hello is that?”

He has a devilishly, impish grin when he’s not physcially attached to a seat at the table. “Oh…you want something like this?”

With that, he gave me a hug. I wished him Happy Holidays. Actually I wish he’d win enough money to leave town and never play poker again or that I’d win enough money to leave town so I never had to deal to him again.

As luck would have it, I was starting on Table 1 – right where Cuckoo was holding court. $1,000-2,000 Mixed. David – 1s, Jimmy W – 3s, David O. – 6s, Jeff – 7s, Cuckoo – 8s.

I announced, “Time pot!” pulled the shuffled deck out of the “master”, did a quick once over on the rack which held $1,000 in chips (for big chip break down) instead of the normal $500, cut, and dealt Omaha 8 or Better. The first hand went into action so I broke a $500 chip down and put $50 on the Drop Slot for Time. The hand ended up being three quarters to Jeff and one quarter to David O.

Cuckoo went into a full blown, the Earth is coming up at 1,000 miles an hour, tailspin when I pushed the big chips and gave $75 to Jeff and $75 to David O. Cuckoo tried to take the extra Quarter back from David O. and give it to Jeff. All the while telling me I was wrong because the Dollars stayed in $100’s and weren’t broken down. I told him it was a time pot so it was broken completely down. He argued. I called Carmen. Carmen agreed with me. Jimmy W. agreed with me (not that I need to be agreed with, it’s the house rule). David O. agreed with me.

Cuckoo grabbed the $50 off the drop slot and tried to show Carmen that the whole $100 went to Jeff and David O. only got $50 because the other $50 was in the drop slot. Even though he protested that it was the stupidest fucking rule he’d ever heard, he finally gave it up. The Time was dropped, the hand finished, and the next game was Razz.

The first hand I dealt, it went to heads up with a raise. Fourth Street gave the low hand an Ace of Hearts and a Deuce of Clubs. I called, “Deuce of Clubs.”

Cuckoo went into a thing. “You mean Ace of Hearts.”

The hand ended with a bet from the low hand and as I changed decks and asked for antes, I said, “No. I mean the Deuce of Clubs.”

It was another five minute ordeal in which he told me I was wrong. His version, I was supposed to call the lowest card in the hand to start the action, as in the Ace of Hearts.

The only other thing I said was, “No. I call the high card of the low hand. And I’m going to take back my hug if you don’t watch out.”

As he started to jump on my miscalling the card, the other players set him straight. They flat out told him he was wrong, where had he been, and did he know we were playing Razz? Jeff went so far as to tell him that he owed, “This lady an apology because she was right on top of it…”

Not to worry, I never got the apology but I didn’t care. I just kept dealing.

The conversation moved away to an incident that happened a few days ago with David O. believing he’d made a ‘7’ in Deuce to 7. He’d turned his hand up on the River and stated, “Seven.”

His opponent mucked and the dealer never caught the fact that David had paired. David was asking Jimmy’s opinion on finding an arbitrater because David’s opponent felt (someone/somehow pointed out the fact that David had paired after the hand was over and the pot was pushed) wanted David to give him the amount of the pot.

David didn’t feel that he’d done anything wrong because he honestly believed he’d made the hand. His opponent stared at David’s hand and didn’t see the pair. The dealer didn’t see the pair.

The question kicked around was, “Do you think another player at the table should point out the hand?” and everyone at the table seemed to feel that 90 million people had seen the hand…all except for the opponent and the dealer.

Cuckoo of course had his opinion on the whole deal. It was “the fucking dealer’s fault.” – “The dealers never do their job.” – “They can’t read a hand.” He went on and on about the dealers.

I never got into the middle of that one. I just kept dealing. As far as I can figure, Cuckoo’s Court was out of control and the only reason it ever happens that way is because of the dealer…whether we are doing our job or not. Damn dealers! I’ve always wondered – if we are such horrible people handling all that money that belongs to those great poker players – why don’t they have a private game and deal to themselves and each other? *Snort – choke – ROFL*

My next game was Sammy F.’s table. Post-poned until tomorrow.