Kee-rist! I couldn’t wait to walk through the door of my sweet little home, tucked away from the madness of the world, and indulge. Yes…that first tantalizing aroma, that delicious sip of wine as it slides across my tongue and escapes down my throat, exhaling the perfume of the bouquet, and wanting to chug the glass but telling myself it’s best to savor, sip, relish every drop.

That is the way life is supposed to be, living every second of it and feeling the aroma of the bouquet engulf your being, jumping head first into the heady rush, never trying to slow down the acceleration with the drag of negative thoughts or surrounding yourself with people that can’t get into what it’s really all about.

Smell, taste, and feel everything you encounter…can’t get there? Too bad. You lose! Push me the pot dealer. I win!

While you’re trying to figure that one out, a few tales from the Poker Pit.

I’m still sludging around with last week. There are so many things to tell that I literally suffer from a brain cramp and run out of time.

One of the final tables of a Super Satellite went something like this. The 2s was female, not sure if she was drinking or just being a super star…even though she ain’t. She talked a lot during my down…about the hand when she called a raise…tried to question the raiser as to what he had, and was overall kind of an embarrassment to the women that play poker – IMHO.

The 4s visited off and on with her, as if they were buddies but I’m sure they’d only met at this tournament and would never speak again if they were in another circumstance.

The 9s wore thick framed glasses and for some reason the 4s and the 9s got into a verbal war. The 9s declared that he had won more tournaments this year than the 4s had played in his entire life. They weren’t swearing at each other…sort of a bristling of feathers.

I did say something like, “Hey, let’s play cards.”

A few minutes later, the 4s asked me about Montana. I answered. About ten minutes later, the 4s looked at the 9s and said, “Wow! He’s blowing air kisses at me now.”

Followed with, “I know you’re wearing your wife’s glasses. You really should stop doing that,” directed at the 9s.

I wanted to fall out of my chair laughing. The 9s never said anything, the action was rocking, and I got pushed a few minutes later. No…I never even wondered if the 9s was wearing his wife’s glasses.

Another night, I finished my shift by dealing to James Woods. He sat down in a $15-30 H game.

A ton of poker notables are in the room and in the tournaments…if you aint’ here, you’re missing the action.

*****

Tonight was my Monday…I went willingingly into the jumble and noise of people gathered at the tables trying to beat each other’s brains – out armed with cards and chips.

I met Tony G. He was in the tournament. He’s cute and friendly…regardless of his ‘smack talking’ poker table personae.

One of my funniest downs…maybe only to me…was a $80-160 H down.

The 1s is a youngster that I haven’t dealt to in about five months, easy going, quiet, remembers me.

The 2s, female, steady player as of late.

The 3s was walking.

The 4s, Ritchie, long time player; has had some problems in controlling his temper but not with me.

The 5s seemed to never know what happened in the game although he was a player and not new to poker.

The 6s open.

The 7s, Jason, long time Bellagio player, pretty quiet, just comes to play.

The 8s, a stranger.

The 9s, walking.

One of the first things that happened was the 8s put out his BB and then pulled it back while I was shuffling. I asked him if he was taking the Blind. He replied yes but held on to his chips. WTF? I dealt the hand. He put out his blind.

The 5s jumped up and down, off the phone, on the phone, back and forth. He finally raised a hand. Multi-way action.

The Flop was 10-10-9.

The Turn an Ace. Raises.

The River really didn’t matter.

Ritchie showed A-10.

The 5s moaned and groaned…forever…that he had 9-9. What a beat…what a drag…what a pain…how could ‘she’ (that was me) find an Ace. Then two other players popped in and said they threw an Ace away.

OH MY GOD! The agony of poker.

The 8s was the BB again and he held onto his chips. I asked him if he was taking the BB. He said yes. I asked him to put out the chips. He said he would but didn’t.

I told him I wasn’t supposed to deal him unless he put the blind out first. He’d never heard of it. The 5s chimed in that he’d never heard of such a thing either. I told them I was not supposed to deal them in unless they put the chips out.

Ritchie asked what they were talking about. They told him. He said I was right…that’s the way it is.

Whoa! Shit! You mean the dealer knew what she was talking about? But get a grip here kids…if you want to be dealt in, just get your blinds out there. What the hell is the big mystery about that?

In the meantime, we got a player in the 6s. And the 5s played this little stupid shit game with me where he pushed his cards an eighth of an inch from his fingers to fold…after all he’d taken a beat…remember?

He pushed them a hair away from his fingers. I asked if he was done with the hand and he informed me they were over the line. Well hell! The line is about 12 inches from the rail and as far as he had his chips out and his hands, that didn’t mean Jack to me.

I told him the line only applied in NLH and Tournaments at this time and I was never going to take his hand unless I knew he folded.

He did the, “If I don’t have a chip on my cards, you can take them.”

I replied, “I only deal to 3,000 or so new players a year and I’m sure I’ll remember you out of all of them.”

I thought the 6s was going to fall off of his chair laughing.

The 2s told them all not to give me a bad time. Maybe it was a female thing. Maybe she appreciates me as a dealer…hope it’s the latter.

Long and short of it, the 5s won a few hands. He tipped me. But let me add this – what the hell is the big deal about just playing poker? If you’re there to give the dealer a bad time, or act like you know it all, or inform the table that you can’t take a beat…you’re bleeding man. You need a tourniquet. And you’re a LOSER!

The wind finally stopped blowing. Believe it or not…the gale force that was ripping across Vegas finally gave up. I’m on my way out to my beautiful back yard, glass of wine in hand, to build a fire in the chimanea and relish the taste, feel, and smell of life…push me the pot dealer! I win!