This little writing adventure covers the last two days. It’s long – obviously you don’t mind or you wouldn’t be here.

I seriously wondered if I could make it through my last down tonight and have the energy to drive home so I could jump right into the middle of a glass of wine. For being a single granny, living in Sin City, I sure as hell have to much going on for any three young chicks and some times my fuel injected ass just runs out of steam.

Well…here I am! On my second glass of wine and considering a third. I got home, kicked off the work duds, washed my face, and slipped into those comfy threads that let me slouch; checked my email with the ‘link to me’ sites, ‘sell me your .com name’, and then hit the spam blocker where I can get all kinds of medication, a new penis, lots of girls waiting to meet me, a new mortgage, and free money. Sweet! Wish they’d all go to hell.

Let’s just jump right into Wednesday night. The room is exactly as I love it – right now. The majority of high limit has gone South to the Tunica Tournament, all the games from $30-60 on down are hopping and jumping, no one has their tit in a wringer or their shorts twisted and it’s the N-U-T-Z-Z-Z as far as I’m concerned.

One $4-8 game I dealt was like dealing to school kids (arent’ they all?) – no one knew what was going on but they wanted to put their money in the pot and they did. On the first round of cards, one card slipped under the napkin of the 4s. When I dealt him the second card, he was looking around for the first one. I told him I thought it was under the napkin and as he found it and looked at it, I followed with, “Did you bring that one yourself or did I deal it to you?”

He looked at it and threw his hand away.

I said, “I must have dealt it to you.”

**lots of laughter** That’s how all the games have been.

One wrinkle in a $2-5 NLH game. The 5s was so blitzed – a vat of beer or so – that he could barely sit in his seat. He was having the time of his life throwing chips at everyone in the game and they were accepting everyone he gave. I finally asked his name because it was easier to call him by name to get his attention than it was to keep putting my hand out and making strange dealer sounds. His name is Chris.

My friend Jed was in the 10s and the recipient of a chunk of those chips. Chris was having a great time and bought chips every time he could. Everyone was gambling.

I’d never seen the 8s before and at one point, when Jed won a big pot from Chris, the 8s made the comment, “Those are my chips.”

The 8s was nondescript, average guy playing poker, pretty quiet. About half way through my down, with a A-5-8 Flop, Chris shoved out $70 or so all-in. The 8s went all-in for a little over $300. The 4s hesitated for a micro second and pushed all-in. The 8s had A-5. Chris had K-Q off. The 4s had A-Q off. The River was a Queen.

The 8s immediately stated, “I bet $300 and that fucker called.”

As I counted down the stacks, I told the 8s there would be no name calling. He abruptly stood up, as if he was leaving. I told him he had some change coming and counted out $277 from his stack. I pushed his change to him and he did a swipe/grab at his chips, stepped back and slammed his chair into the table. Everyone did a double take…but he was already gone.

People like that make me a little nervous. When they can’t handle or suppress their emotions, they can be extremely dangerous. I almost expected him to stomp behind me and do something irrational but he disappeared into the dust of a ‘suck and resuck’ hand.

*****

I drifted on through the night. Nicholas hit the window before I got to his game and came back to wish me goodnight and send me a bon voyage red bird…he’s so damn sweet!

When I hit the end of my down on Table 28, some of the players and the dealer following me, Steve, said that Orel H. was at Table 29. I have no idea who anybody is so I did a, “Who?”

Steve asked me to ask Orel for his autograph. I just laughed. I never ask anyone for their autograph.

I jumped into Table 29, $8-16 holdem, and everyone informed me the Shuffle Master was down. I went into, “Oh well…let’s try this,” as I dropped to my knees, reached under the table to the switch, found it, turned it on and – just like in the movies – it worked. *Applause*

I got the first few hands out. The 6s was a great looking, all american sort of guy, (of course I knew he was the one everyone was talking about), I looked right at him and said, “The dealer following me asked me to get your autograph but since I never ask anyone for their autograph, I’m not going to ask you.”

He was so damn cute! I said, “I didn’t even know who you were until people told me.”

He just waved me off and replied, “Good. I don’t want anyone to know who I am.”

I was chuckling. Bill L. was in the 9s and he was doing his usual gab, gab, re-gab monologue. Jerry was in the 10s and immediately pulled out a picture of his son and threw it to Orel asking for an autograph for his boy…telling Orel that his boy would be a pitcher someday.

Whoa! How in the hell could you even make that statement! I think my mom wanted a legal secretary or something out of me and I’m a poker dealer…get real, Jerry!

Orel was so great about it. He got an ink pen from another player at the table and signed away. We jabbered across the table, chips flew in every direction, Bill informed them all that I had dealt him A-A back to back, three consecutive hands about four years ago. The 7s got out a calculater and figured out that it was 50M to one or something nonsensical.

Orel and the 7s went to war in one hand. The 7s flopped a set of Kings, Orel turned two pair with the 10-7 of Spades (it put a three flush on the board), a raising war here and the set slowed down because of the flush possible. The River gave the 7s quads. Orel was such a good sport about it…but what else would we expect him to be?

The second to the last hand, lots of action, Orel started with A-A and lost. The last hand I dealt, Orel had K-K…hell…he lost that too but he was into the Poker gab and kept talking it up with, “Linda, you can’t leave yet. You have to deal one more hand for the 50M to one…”

Implying that I’d dealt him A-A back to back and he wanted to see if I could do it three hands in a row. He was so much fun. Everyone wanted to talk to him and he was more than gracious.

I dealt my last game and stopped by to give Orel my card. I wanted him to find this site. My card has the same Queen of Hearts on it as this page. He asked me if that was me. I laughed and said I wished it was. I told him briefly about the deck being a collectors item and that I had a Blog; that I wrote about poker…he responded, “And I’m going to be in it!”

I like this guy.

I hit the time clock.

**I’m on my third glass of wine and considering a fourth**

New day – Thursday. The room was busy but nothing in the scream and rage mode. I cruised through a variety of games…mostly low limit; they were fun and easy to deal. Nicholas drifted by and told me he was going to the Mirage…I gave him the pouty face. Hey…who was I going to spend a break with and talk about poker. He came back by and gave me the ‘red bird’ for luck. What a sweetie…money in my pocket and the charm of “Nicholas in the three seat”.

*****

One $20-40 stud game that just reinforces why I love certain people. Yup…John…I love you! I told him so an hour later in the Sport’s Book. The game was eight handed with two Play Overs. John was playing over the 2s and Eddie was playing over the 3s.

Eddie is a true poker freak. He loves to pull the dealer into his nightmare. As soon as he’s the low card, he does a “Thank you!” as he tries to skip his bring chip across the table and glares at the dealer. He’s a long time/long term can’t get a handle on what poker is all about type of guy.

The 5s went broke in the hand just before I sat down. As he went broke, Doug Dalton, poker room manager, walked up with a woman…they were definitely looking for the 5s. The 5s stood up, I sat down. Doug, the 5s, and the woman began a conversation about three feet from the table.

About the second hand I dealt, the question came from the 1s. Was the 5s finished? I said I didn’t know and since he was talking to the poker room manager, I would give him a few moments to decide.

The 7s seat even jumped in and said the 5s was busy, give him a moment. Another few hands went by and Eddie, being the obnoxious ghoul that he is, started on my case. What was the status of the seat? I replied that I didn’t know – and since the 5s was talking to the poker room manager, I wouldn’t get involved in it for a few minutes.

Not good enough for Eddie. “Why?”

I bluntly asked, “What do you think I should do? He’s talking to the poker room manager.”

Another hand went by and Eddie yelled, “Hey, Doug!”

When Doug acknowledged, Eddie asked if the guy was coming back. Doug replied, “No!”

Eddie tried to put it on me…”See!”

John jumped in…he told Eddie that he would have done the same thing if he’d been in my seat. That it would be very easy for Doug to walk into the office and tell the Shift Manager that the dealer on 14 had caused a problem.

I dealt the next hand and while Eddie was talking to his wife…she was his sweater…I looked at John and said, “You know I love you.”

He was laughing as I rolled my eyes at Eddie. I said, “It’s nice to deal to someone that can think.”

I ran into him in the Sport’s Book on one of my breaks and we visited for a moment about the lunacy of some of these people. I really appreciate him and those like him that won’t leave the dealer high and dry.

**Glass of wine – number four – but who’s counting?**

The $40-80 stud game…don’t worry, Eddy was in it when I got there. Marty C. – other posts – was in the 3s and doing his usual ranting and rattling. He won a pot and gave his worst presentation of “Three pots in three years,” directed at me and do you think I give a shit if he ever wins a pot?

These dinosaurs of days of old are dying with the old games. Marty and his group are part of the past, a fleeting moment in the history of poker. The world of poker is filled with a new breed. New, young faces are taking over the poker rooms. If these kids take a beat or go broke, they come back with the attitude that they are going to win the WSOP. They aren’t sniveling and whining at the dealers and about the cards they are getting…they just knuckle down and play. See you dinosaurs! Your time is up! Move over and let the new breed in…if you can’t play their game and won’t learn, give it up.

Phew!!! Must be the damn wine talking now!

A totally fresh attitude when I hit the $30-60 Holdem on Table 19. I’d seen Orel in a $15-30 on 25 and said hello as I drifted by. I dealt a few hands on Table 19 and had several seats open, new players in, transfers to another game, and lo and behold, Orel was taking the 1s. There was some confusion as to if another player might transfer or some nonsense and Orel finally ended up in the 1s.

We kibitzed back and forth, he won a pot, got ran over by conversation and questions; he fielded them all quite well as he played the game. I was getting pushed as he was asking me about “The Deck”…my own sweet little collector’s item…Le Florentin. I briefly explained some of it and had to rush to the next table.

While I was dealing the next game…Anthony was in the 1s – a B-I-G guy that had a little too much to drink but was a hell-uv-a-lot of fun…Boba came over with a red bird and told me it was from Orel…Orel had forgotten to tip me.

A few hands…lots of action…and I looked over to see Orel looking at me. I nodded a ‘thank you’ and Orel gave me a Thumbs Up.

This $15-30 Holdem game was a sweet little jammer. Anthony sells drugs…to Doctors, silly! Chips were rocking and rolling and I was on break when I got tapped out.

I stopped by to thank Orel. He said I could write that he forget to tip me and that the check was in the mail. I cracked up. I told him that I would.

My next two games were $2-5 NLH. Screamers! Gamble-Jam!

The second game was pretty unreal as far as pots and action…welcome to the land of beats.

The 5s has been playing for the last two weeks. He’s got a very heavy European accent but I have no idea where he’s from…I do know that he’s not afraid to put chips in the pot. He routinely bet $50 or more when he was in a hand.

One hand that was the coup de grace found him stacking a hell of a lot of chips. I can’t even remember how the hand started…raise? I don’t know.

Three way action. The Flop was 5-5-7. Minor action here.

Eight on the Turn. Lots of thought – time waste – more thought – finally a bet, I’m thinking somewhere in the neighborhood of $50 to $70 each from three players.

River card? Hell if I can remember.

More time waste – thought – more thought – the UTG in the 1s finally bet $200. One player folds. The 5s went all-in for around $500 more. The 1s finally calls with somewhere around $300.

The 1s turns over 7-5. The 5s turns over 8-8.

Busted!

Huge fricking pot! I got all the blue chips in the 5s’s stacks and several reds as a toke. This down really made my night. All of a sudden I had three seats open and people were coming from the Must Move game…Hello Wayne – hiking buddy, pan player, pal extraordinaire…took the 10s. He never played a hand because he waited for the button to pass him…I got pushed.

Two more holdem games. Anthony was in one of them as the game he was in previously had broken down. He was worse than blitzed…really funny…playing extremely well and at one point when he was facing a bet – and his face worked in continual frown, grimace motion – I asked him if he was ok, he replied, “I love you, Linda.”

He was pretty funny during this down and more than once I busted out laughing. Of course I told him I loved him too!

Tapped out to an $8-16 Holdem game – last down of the night.

Return to wondering if I could make it home to have the glass of wine…