The long and winding road…that’s the way my work week seemed. There were no bumps or gullies – it just seemed to run on forever. Lots of fun people and noise, most of the games were quite easy to deal until I hit Friday night.

I left the house a little early, determined to be on the E/O before 6:45. That’s the deal if you seriously want to find the escape hatch and get out of work early. Sign the E/O list before 6:45 and the list is drawn by your day of the week. Fridays are first – a draw is done there to see who has first out, then Thursdays, etc. The traffic sucked, I spent almost a half hour getting into the employee parking lot. I made the list but nothing much happened on the E/O as we were short of dealers and all 30 tables were rocking.

I had plans to visit the Valley of Fire with Jim and Wayne on the following morning and I was seriously looking for Jim to arrive at any time…of course I thought he’d be toast by the time he got to the Poker Room. That’s his MO. Doesn’t make him bad or weird – it’s just his way of shouting when he hits Vegas.

Two of the low limit games – in a row – had one person in them that seemed to skip a lot of rocks across the glassy surface of the poker pond I’d been enjoying for the week. Sometimes there’s no way to describe the discord I feel coming from a person…almost as if I’m wearing a velvet skin and they are dragging their fingernails in the opposite direction of the nap of the fabric. I feel it instantly when I hit the pond…er…ahhh…table and start cautioning myself against getting involved in what’s going on with them. Why? Because they’re DAMN irritating!

One of the fingernail freaks was in the 4s in a $4-8 game. He made fun of the 1s when the 1s made a Flush on the River and raised his opponent twice with a pair on the board and called when he got reraised. His opponent had a Full House.

I knew they had some connection and I asked the 1s if they were friends. The 4s jumped in to tell me they were brothers but he was a lot smarter than his brother. The 4s chuckled and snorted over what an idiot his brother was for not figuring out what was going on in the hand.

The 4s let everyone know, over and over, what a great player he was and how he got out of trap after trap and made the best lay downs…this was at the end of each hand. He called me by name (damn…sometimes I hate wearing a name tag) and tried to get me involved in a lot of it. At one point he stated that I was just like him. I replied, “No…You make a lot more noise than I do.” *laughter*

When I left the game he was in the path of my escape hatch and gave me a High Five and grabbed my hand for a hand shake…made some noise about me and him being alike. I dryly responded, “Yeah…you’re cool,” as I rescued my hand and slipped past him for the next pond.

$8-16. The 8s had a sharp faced, card zinging, fingernail freak that was heaving boulders into the pond. He pitched every hand, rapid fire, towards the rack. Even though his cards weren’t directed at me, it’s a very offensive move and puts me – and almost all dealers – on edge.

He was non stop chatter. He knows Daniel N. – they played charity games together in Canada; Daniel was a dealer; blah, blah, blah. He knew this player and that player; knew what everybody had; knew when he had the best hand and when to let it go…P-S-H-A-W! But he just didn’t know when to shut up.

Then he pitched the cards into my hand. The corner of both cards hit my fingers. It did sting. I looked at him and calmly stated, “Don’t hit your friendly dealer with the cards.”

He acted like I’d just asked him to pass the salt and pepper and tried to joke it off, “I did it on purpose.”

I’m sure my voice dropped a little, “Don’t hit me with the cards.”

He immediately switched channels and began complaining about the coffee. It wasn’t real coffee. It was coffee syrup, made from some container and not from coffee grounds. Yes…he was talking to me. I said, “You could be right.”

He jumped up to visit the Brush Person at the Podium. I said, to everyone and no one, “How the hell could I argue with that? He knows everything.”

The whole table cracked up and nodded agreement.

Jim was in the room by now – on every feasible list (not the $1,500-3,000 game that was my next stop) and enjoying a few brews. I was on a break and we did the hug thing while a few of our male dealers told him he should have called ahead so they could go party. They informed him that I (me) wouldn’t take him to a Strip Club and they would. How do they know that????

The $1,500-3,000 Mixed was my next stop. No bruises or tire screeching brakes. Then three handed $80-160 half Omaha 8 or Better and Deuce to 7 Triple Draw.

Next stop $10-20 NLH. Marlon was in the 1s and had a little side bet going with the 3s. If an A, J, or 2 came on the Flop, Marlon won $100 – if none of those cards hit – Marlon paid the 3s. Twice the 3s won the bet. They went for a third. The 3s told me if he won this one, I’d get a $10 chip. He did and I held my hand out…he paid me.

A few hands later they went $300 for the same bet. The 3s lost and he was done with it – but he offered me $20 on this one before the Flop came. Heavy sigh!

My last game was $15-30 holdem – it was short handed and broke up halfway through my down. I was done for the night and it was now 1:30 a.m. Hellz-z-z-z bellz-z-z-z! An hour and a half E/O and I had a hiking date in the morning; just a few short hours away.

I hit the Time Clock, grabbed my stuff and went to whisk Jim out of the game he was playing entertainer of the year in. Jim was in the 3s – had just posted his SB and he was playing the round. The 8s? None other than Joe P. – the player that called me an asshole on New Year’s Eve. He definitely knew I was there but wouldn’t give me any eye contact.

I had no intention of acting ignorant or out of sorts with him. If he had looked at me, I would have simply said, “Hello, Joe.”

After all, there’s no life preserver in the pond he’s in…and I certainly don’t want to go there.

*****

An over all for the week.

• Nicholas in the 3s stood me up on Friday. No Hello – no Goodbye. Heavy sigh and little sniffles.
• Karen M. was in a game and we managed a warm hello as I was racing to my next game.
• Victor was in the 10s in a game I dealt – we’d played together about a year ago. Nice!
• When I left the room on Thursday, I stopped by Orel H. to tell him goodbye and that I would see him in a year or so when he came through again. He said, “You know, Linda, I might just give up baseball and come and play poker with these guys. They’re a lot of fun.” I was chuckling. He said, “Don’t use my name when you write about me, just say that it’s the baseball player that’s always referenced in crossword puzzles.” Hysterical!

P.S. I made the hike with both my friends. Beautiful day, great place to visit and stroll around, lots of pictures, and my velvet skin was stroked in the direction of the nap…no fingernails. Sweet!