The dreaded Time Collection. It comes around every half hour at Bellagio and from all reports by players in games, it is the most reasonable in the country. Yet a lot of players behave as if they had an appointment with the guillotine when “Time” is announced. Or they act like Time is supposed to be taken the way it is taken in other poker rooms around the country; or out of a pot that has $x in it, the amount dictated by the players; or on the 47th day of the month of No-Time-Ski; or any assortment of reasons for them not to have to pay Time.

Some of them even feel that if I do my job (keep in mind that I’m hired by Bellagio – not the players at the table) the way I’m instructed to, I can go on their stiff list. Wow! A novel idea. A stiff list! Wonder why someone else didn’t think of that about 20 years ago. Chit Mon, you are going to have to really work to come up with something I haven’t heard or witnessed before at a poker table.

I slide into the Box on Table 40. It’s $40-80 Mixed, four handed. A three inch by seven inch plaque has brown paper taped over it and is wedged right by the game limit sign on the left of the rack. It reads, Time $7, paid by each player before the first hand is dealt.

I cheerfully state, “$7 for Time please.”

I receive, “It’s taken from a Time Pot.”

As I set the old deck in the Shuffle Master, I motion to the plaque and state, “Not according to this.”

The 8s argues, “I guarantee you, Time is taken from the pot. We are not paying it.”

As I cut and get ready to deal, “I’ll find out.”

He persisted that they were not paying time individually as I called for a decision. I deal the hand, Skip arrives, I point to the plaque and ask him how Time is taken. He states that each player is paying $7 before the first hand. The boys cough up the Time and I finish the Down.

Umnhhhh! Now if the Dealers in front of me were doing what they were supposed to be doing, this would not be an issue. Wow! Another novel idea! I wasn’t ‘stiffed’ so that’s not an issue either.

For some reason in the $25-50 NLH game, all the players have the idea that Time is taken on the first pot that has $500 or more in it. That may be how it’s done in other parts of the world but not at Bellagio, yet it seems to surface all the time.

Players sitting down in a $30-60 H game with a new dealer coming in, always think they are exempt from paying $6 for the half hour Time charge. It just doesn’t work that way. Sit down, pay Time. It’s almost painful to watch them try to skip out of it…painfully embarrassing for them that is.

Of course in the ultra high limit, just push the pot and then ask the winner to pay $XX for Time…or a lecture is forthcoming from someone at the table. Even though we are supposed to take it immediately out of the pot, it’s just better to do it the ‘high limit’ way. And it’s actually easier than breaking down big chips and making the exchange from the pot to the rack.

Come to think of it, Time Pots can be horribly taxing for a dealer unless the dealer knows the nuances of the game they are dealing. A few examples:

$20-40 O-8, $5 each player before a hand is dealt.
$30-60 H, $6 each player before a hand is dealt.
$10-20 NLH, $7 each player before a hand is dealt.
$40-80 7 Stud, normally a $5 ante, goes to $10 ante with $7 taken for Time.
$80-160 H, after a Flop, a player with a ‘missed blind’ pays from their stack.

In Mixed Games and higher limits, Time is taken from everyone’s stack during the Stud rounds, whether they ante or not. In Flop games, they are dealt in unless they miss their blinds, Time is taken from the pot. Except in $150-300 and higher, it’s taken from the Blinds before the Flop.

Imagine new dealers coming in and trying to figure this out. It’s a labyrinth of limits and Time Drops.

I have a wrinkle in my brain about Time Collections. I’ve written about it in Poker Tales under the title, The Cost of Doing Business. I still marvel at players that think a casino owes the player the privilege of playing for free. Where, on Earth, can you set up any business and not pay some operating costs for that business? You can’t. Say hello to the dreaded Time Collection.

Supposing the 12th of Never really did show up…oh…never mind, it’s another Friday the 13th. I have plans for this day. Soon it will be sleepy time. My alarm clock will go off at 3 p.m. I will arise, wiping the sand from my eyes, race in to build my wonderfully, aromatic, incredibly taste bud tantalizing coffee, and check all the spam that floats into my ‘inbox’, sifting through the tangle looking for a few good words from a few good people as I sip.

Vivienne will show up at a predetermined time to go through a range of body torture led by me…in other words light weight lifting and aerobics. We will try to convince ourselves that exercise and diet are the foundation for a healthy life – easy for me to say, I’m on my second glass of wine and these are hellerly big glasses – as we visit and drive ourselves into a frenzy of dance and motion.

Then it will be shower time, race off to work, and scurry to sign the E/O list…hey, it’s Friday. I may sign the Play List too.

I’ve played on the last two Fridays. I crashed and burned in the Green Felt Wars two weeks ago and won last week. Last week was a lot more fun and I had to jockey around several games to get where it was more fun. I dealt the first few hours of my shift and then got out to play…no E/O on the horizon though, even though I was number 1 on the play and the E/O. We are always short of dealers. And ain’t that the sign o’ the times?

While I was dealing, I met the ‘Flor-idiots’. That’s people that aren’t born and raised in Florida – they move there. At first I thought Tracy said, “There are people here from Texas and there are four idiots.”

Tracy was a real kick. I managed to transfer to his game after several transfers through other games in my quest for a game where people were having fun and still putting chips in the pot.

So when I hit the room tonight, if I can’t E/O in the first few hours but get out to play, that’s the kind of game I’ll be looking for. I don’t want to play poker with someone that can’t take a beat and their life depends on a win or a loss – if that’s the case, get the hell out of the poker room and do something else. Leave us kids alone that want to play poker.

I have a few tales from the Dealer’s Box over the last five days but I’m really not in the mood or ready to dive into that side of it and since this is about me and where I’m at…patience, my friend. I’ll get there. It just ain’t going to happen today.

I have a hike planned to ‘the cave’ on Saturday a.m. with my hiking buds. It’s the largest cave in S. Nevada and sits in the side of a canyon wall across from Red Rock Canyon.

Then it’s Big Deuce and Pan time with my buds at my house Saturday night.

And last but close to the best part of it, one of my young friends, Chad, has invited me to dinner on Sunday night. While dinner may seem normal and ordinary, this young man has invited me to meet his family at dinner. That’s huge. When a friend wants you to meet their family, you/me…have achieved the ultimate in friendships.

My definition of immortality…held in the thought and heart of another person. I’m there!

Last night was a turning point for me in dealing ‘the big game’. First a little background on my personality…sure…as if you didn’t already have an idea of what I’m like but here it is:

Some years ago a person I loved very much owed me quite a bit of money and couldn’t find it in his heart or thoughts to help me out when I returned from Mississippi and was waiting for re-hire at the Mirage – Treasure Island had just closed their poker room and the dealers in that room had priority to move back to the Mirage before anyone else would be considered. My finances sucked – as in I had almost nothing left after the move back and getting settled. I worked the Gold Coast Open Tournament on swing and the Sahara poker room by day just stretching to make ends meet and recoup some cash.

The person I loved had a job. So did his wife. It was horribly painful for me that neither one of them offered me any help or even considered paying me any of the money owed when they both knew I was in a bind. Actually it made me quite angry.

One day I composed a handwritten note and delivered it to the person I loved. It went something like this:

***As of today, you no longer owe me any money. The debt is cancelled. I’m not doing it for you or to help you out. I’m doing it for myself. I don’t want to be upset with you when I see you or feel angry.***

There was more to the note because the person I loved and still love, is one of my sons. But as soon as I released what caused me anguish, I was ‘all better’. It was over with.

Of course the question of what does this have to do with ‘the big game’ must be a wrinkle in the brain by now.

It has everything to do with dealing $2,000-4,000 and higher to the same group of players day after day. And of course…it’s about tipping…money.

No one…no living dealer that I know of likes to deal high limit. There’s no reason to like to deal it – the general run of the game is very little of anything trickles into a dealer’s pocket. The only advantage to being a good dealer is they don’t bite your head off or even notice you when you’re in the dealer’s box…you’re just an automated body that’s supposed to perform a function.

Last night I cruised through the game and managed to receive two $1 chips as I pushed out of the Dealer’s Box. I’m not sure why but for some reason it really bothered me. Truthfully, I would rather have received -0- than to receive that. It’s embarrassing to think that that amount of money flows across the table, hour after hour, and the dealer is given less than a 1 cent toke for a half hour of service in comparison to the size of the chips and pots being pushed. While I don’t believe they are obligated to load the dealer’s pocket with chips, I do believe that tipping is part of the job and that’s why we are there.

I have devised a plan to save myself. I don’t want to feel angry or irritated over not receiving a gratuity when I deal that game. The plan: I’m searching for a worthwhile charity, like a children’s fund or a woman’s shelter or one that I feel committed to, and I will put the money I make each month – from that limit and higher – into that charity. One person that plays that limit, always takes care of me when I deal to him…I help him with projects away from poker so I’m going to exclude him from the chairty fund. Hey…I have to have a little bread too!

I’m releasing myself from expectation and frustration. I just wish I’d thought of it a few years ago. It would have been so much easier. And yes…if one of them threw me a $1,000 chip, it’s going into the charity fund too but then Hell would freeze over on that day and life as we know it would cease to exist.

I’ve released myself…damn! I feel all better now.

The first half of my life I listened to the old saying, “You can’t have your cake and eat it too!”

I managed to convince myself that that’s the biggest bunch of baloney anyone can listen to. You can have your cake and eat it too. The only glitch is that you can’t always choose the frosting or how thick it is. But it’s all doable.

One of the days that had a really skimpy spread of frosting and the flavor was completely different for the cake it was spread on, was spent dealing two $20-40 7 Stud games, back to back. The first game was short players. Ok…ugly…but I lived through it without a scratch or noise. I hit the second game and a few minutes later the first one was breaking down, they were drawing for seats in the game I was now dealing. No problem, right? Yeah…right!

Ray, one of our dealers, had put down chips in the weak game and went somewhere without playing a hand. That made him ineligible for the draw. He came back just in time to see the other players taking seats in my game and have his name put at the bottom of the list. There were three players ahead of him that drew for the list but didn’t get a seat. Here’s where the frosting turned into a weak, runny drizzle and left half the cake bare.

Ray came to my game and went into a run something like this, “I was ready to play! I told everyone I’d be right back.”

The 8s interjected with, “I’m leaving soon.”

Ray offered him $25 for his seat. The 8s accepted the $25 amidst noise from all of us, mostly me, that he couldn’t sell his seat, there was a waiting list. It took two to three minutes to convince the 8s that he wasn’t selling his seat because Ray was never going to get it. Ray demanded his money back. The 8s gave it back. All of this is going on while I’m still dealing the game and trying to call high card and make sure the bets are right.

The 2s said he would leave for $25. Ray gave him $25 and the 2s started to rack up. Same noise, same confusion. By now I’m screaming for a Floorman to straighten out the waiting list and convince Ray that even if both players left the game, Ray was not getting a seat. There were three people on the list in front of him.

Ray never shut up!!!! He kept standing over my game, making all kinds of noise about how he wanted to play but they wouldn’t wait for him to come back, demanding his $25 back from the 2s, on and on and on. WTF? He’s a dealer and he completely blew my game apart with noise.

The 2s and 8s both racked up and left (and Ray didn’t get a seat because of the list) but it didn’t do much for straightening out the game. The damage was already done. Three of my players were totally upset.

I wonder at times what a dealer is thinking when they do this…never mind…I might find out there’s NO icing on this cake.

*****
Shove that icing up your nose…an incident that left me marveling at the personality display I find in poker came from a $4-8 H game.

Cliff was in the 3s, lots of chips and that’s the norm for him, whether he buys them or wins them, unknown to me. Cliff is the subject of another post some time ago. He’s generally friendly, talks a lot, mainly about poker, leaves the table frequently to smoke, always has a couple of giant sized drink cups in front of him – like coffee, soda, perhaps alcohol in the mix. I’ve played against him and dealt to him for a number of months. He mentioned having been in the nightclub business from somewhere, possibly Florida, before he moved to Vegas and he talks about working on a business now.

Jim was in the 2s. He always seems to be angry. He may not be but his general countenance gives the appearance of an inner struggle and very little patience with anyone for any reason.

A hand came down with three-way action, raised pre-flop, raised on the Flop, and raised on the Turn. Cliff, the 5s, and the 10s. Cliff was facing two bets after having bet out on the Turn; he went into ‘think mode’.

Less than 40 seconds had passed when Jim demanded, “Dealer! Speed the game up!”

Cliff’s head jerked up, “You want me to hurry?”

I interjected, “He’s entitled to think about his hand.”

Jim made some comment. Cliff’s head dropped into the ‘bull seeing red’ rage as he glared at Jim. “Unless you want to see Bugsy Siegel resurrected, don’t fuck with me! You have no idea who you’re messing with here.”

They started to do a dialogue duel and I jumped into the middle of it. “Hey…come on guys, let’s just play poker.”

A brief skirmish of a few more words and I told them to, “Drop it!”

They did. The game went on.

Wow! Ease up on that icing boys. It definitely didn’t go with the flavor of the cake and the rest of the crew at the table.

*****
A $30-60 H game on down the line was just the perfect mix of cake and icing. It started when I teased the 8s about picking up the Button after I dealt the first round of cards. I told him that’s when I exposed cards…when a player started ‘button fidgeting’. If they just left the Button alone, I wouldn’t have a problem.

The 6s told the 8s I’d be writing about him in ‘the blog’.

The whole game was fun. And I made way more money in that game than I’ve made out of a $30-60 in a long time. The 3s gave $10 tips when he won a pot.

Woo hoo! Just the right flavor, just the right seasoning, and mix of cake and frosting. Eat it too? Hell…I was rolling in it.

If I could pick a day…a day to remember and cherish…a day that made me feel that I had tasted life…I would pick today. There are a lot of other days that I cherish and remember, for a lot of different reasons, and some days that make my blood run cold and my heartache in remembering them…

But today. A day that a few select friends met me in the early a.m. – not even their choice of times but because they are my friends, they arrived at the time I specified. We cruised to a Toyota Dealership where I left my favorite vehicle for scheduled maintenance – of course it’s a toyota 4x truck – and we drove to Mt. Charleston to visit an avalanche area and then drifted off to Fletcher Canyon for hiking, hiking, hiking.

Somewhere in this area is where the avalanche started.

The final result was a mangled mess of snow, dirt, trees, branches, rocks, and all around mayhem.

My hiking ‘buds’ (Dan B., Chad P., Jed L., and Wayne) are standing on about 40 feet of packed snow and the avalanche happened more than a few months ago. Don’t fool with Mother Nature. Isn’t it amazing that even though I live in the desert, I’m just an hour’s drive away from snow and mountains? Sweet!

Fletcher Canyon was a lot of uphill, down in the canyon, along the bank of a raging little snowmelt stream, which we crossed several times, in both directions. We made it almost into the canyon, after about a mile and half trek, before we decided to give it up and come back at a later date when the runoff was finished. The weather had changed to overcast and intermittent sprinkles.

I picked up my truck and came home to nap for a few hours before getting ready to visit Jeff’s house for a poker tournament. Wayne met me there. There were new faces and familiar faces of people that I know from the poker room. Thirteen of us played in the tournament. I tried to run over A-A with the A-K H…WOOPS!

I had a great time. Of course I was drinking my favorite wine. All kinds of munchies, friendly people, and poker! Wow! That’s the perfect combo. My camera was a must for this event so I managed to take a lot of pictures and make a few .mpgs of some of the kids while they played poker.

Around midnight it was time fly. After I arrived home, Vivienne found me in an online chat. I suppose I hadn’t had nearly enough to drink or just wasn’t ready to end the night, but no matter what it was, she came over and joined me in a backyard chimenae fire, wine, and long conversation.

Somewhere around 5 a.m. I managed to hit Sandman Land. Too tired to think, too much to drink, too much fun, never enough time…

I just celebrated another year of life…yup, I’m a Taurus baby. The Taurus horoscope reads pretty much true into my personality. Not a lot of variables. I’m a sensual beast that likes my creature comforts and I love my friends the way they are…but don’t fuck with me! I’m a horrible enemy. I just diss you from being human and you no longer exist. No one wants that so get in line, shape up your life, give everything you have to give in taking care of those you love and your own life and you’ll be tops in my book.

I can’t stand cheaters. I hate liars. I don’t want to hear lame excuses…although I will listen to your troubles and drear…hey…what are friends for if you can’t use them. I don’t mind mistakes and learning errors but I hate WHINERS! Don’t step onto the treadmill of perpetual grief, oh woe is me, life sucks, the world owes me something, or I get horribly bored with you in the first five minutes.

I like change…not necessarily in my home but in my face and thoughts.

I like a challenge. The harder I have to work for something, the sweeter it is when I achieve it.

I like people that laugh. Like? I love them!

I love love! I love hand holding, kisses, hugs, touching, and sharing thoughts.

I love babies, kids, young people, old people, and all those inbetween. I love people that love life.

I love people that go out of their way to say something nice instead of something mean.

I love the Earth; the beauty that Mother Nature spreads before us each day and quietly waits for us to take a look and relish what we have. Even that damned wind that makes me crazy has value.

I love being half crazy, just smart enough to figure out where I am and how I got there, just dumb enough to know I need to learn a lot more before I leave the Earth, and wise enough to know when I have the best of it.

Believe me…I have the best of it! I live in a world that most people dream about. I’m single, make a more than adequate living, manage my life without too many headaches and too many problems (because I refuse to create problems for myself), rub elbows with the elite in the poker world, don’t stress over what might have been or what could be because I pick and choose my friends and my lifestyle. What else is there?

Happy Birthday to me…Happy Birthday to me…

No…it isn’t today – and it wasn’t yesterday…Happy Birthday, Linda…

My oldest son, Dan, celebrates his birthday one week after mine. I’ll be calling him on Tuesday to wish him a Happy Birthday.

So with the thought of celebrating another year of life, I wish for all of you to have half of the happiness and wealth of companionship and love I have from friends and family; for in receiving only half, you would be completely overwhelmed. If I wished for you to receive the full dose, your heart might explode when it hit.

In a heartbeat, in less than one teensy breath, summer is going to be here. It will be hotter than hell and I’ll wish for the days that bloom into the night that I’m experiencing now…my evening. It’s beautiful. A light, gentle breeze that whispers as it wraps around me, a promise of life and fresh thoughts, daydreams coming true, and a new beginning. I believe in new beginnings. We need them to keep moving forward, to protect us from becoming taciturn and jaded, to strengthen us for living our lives. We need progression, always forward, carving a path into a new and unknown side of ourselves and only looking back to remember where we don’t want to be.

Hell yes! I’m drinking. So what? Grab a glass for yourself and possibly some of this will remind you of some part of you.

I have a great friend, Sylvia Hart. We work swing shift together and have the same days off. As of late, we walk the employee parking lot (two laps) after we get off work at night. It’s about two miles and while we walk, we hash and bash our nights and in general, laugh our asses off. We both want to lose some flab. Sylvia has gained quite a bit of weight and on her small frame, it’s very obvious.

I keep chuckling over this one statement she made about two weeks ago. While we are churning up the pavement in the parking lot, she’s stating that she really likes to eat. I’m listening and adding a note here and there. Then she states, “Those fucking bears are so lucky, all they do is eat and sleep.”

I was spitting laughter as she continued the conversation asking how long they hibernated for because that’s what she wanted to do, eat and sleep. Instead we were pounding the pavement at 3:30 a.m. trying to get our girlish figures back.

On the employee parking lot, after about two weeks of walking, we were finally ‘carded’ by Security. They wondered if we work there. We laughed our butts off over that. Like why in the hell would we be cruising the lot at 3 a.m.? Just sneaking in for our usual walk? Sure they have a job to do…

A zillion things I could write about tonight but how much can I send from my brain to cyber before I run out of steam? Remember…I’m drinking.

I have to share a hand that unfolded in the $2-5 NLH game. It started with nothing in particular before the Flop…as in no raising. The Button was in the 10s, Satellite Sam – he’s sort of a legend in poker and he used to ‘floor’ at the Mirage in the old days.

Seven or eight way action, the Flop was 8-5-8. Check all the way around. Sam bet $50. The 1s called, the 2s raised it to $200.

The 5s raised it $439 more all-in.

Fold to Sam and he folded.

The 1s went into count the chips, fidget, think about it, fidget, count the chips out, fidget, “I need a little time.”

He finally called.

The 2s said he would call and raise it to put the 1s all-in. That was about $200 more.

No thinking by the 1s now. He just pushed his chips in.

The 1s turned over 8-3 off. The 2s turned over 10-8 suited. The 5s turned over 5-5.

The 1s mumbled, “A 3 would be nice.”

Bingo! Right off on the River, like it had eyes, as if it’s ears were tuned in and ready to please…a 3.

As I pushed giant mounds of red chips to the 1s, he asked, “What should I do with all of these?”

While this isn’t my normal dealing attitude, I quietly said, “Give me some of them.”

Hysterical. He did give me a tip, after he put them all in racks to see how big the pot was and changed some of them up for bigger chips.

On another note, my friend, Jim AKA The Monkey from CO has been in town for most of the last two weeks. He’s done the chip tango and the dialogue dance with the best of them in the $80-160 and the $30-60. I barely drug him out of the game for a short visit early in the week. He’s going to Aruba with me this year to deal the Ultimate Bet Tournament…and not only that, Wayne, my super buddy, hiking partner, pan playing, ultra cruising buddy is going to deal that event also. That should be some kind of event…the three of us, loose on the island of Aruba.

Wayne stopped in tonight to visit and we did the ‘tourist thang’ of Bellagio’s Poker Room while I was on a break. Love that guy! We are going to Jeff’s house (Thor is my pet name for him) for a poker tournament this weekend. Chit Mon! I’d like to win one of these events! But if I don’t, the company will be great and I’ll just be packing around my little glass of ‘never empty’…wine that is.

So…while dealing tonight, $15-30 H, I sat down to mostly strange faces and greetings. Nice! No one was grumbling and ugly looking…just came to play. About the fourth hand I dealt, I had this dipshit thought zip through my brain and I just spit it right out as I pushed the ‘green’ button on the Shuffle Master, “I wonder if I’ll get carpal finger doing this?”

The 5s looked right at me and said, “If you aren’t getting carpal finger from your husband at home, you won’t get it here.”

I almost spit!

Then I hit a $30-60 H game in which a long time jerk, crab-ass, never happy, plays as bad as he can play just to prove that when he wins a pot he isn’t going to tip, named Tom, was in the 2s. He played almost every hand I dealt. Once, when he was the BB, he called a raise heads-up with Q-6 D. The Flop had one Diamond and he runner-runnered a back door flush to beat A-A. Of course he was a star then and the cards didn’t come ‘zinging’ in trying to burn my fingers off at the first knuckle. What a diptard!

One hand, raised pre-flop, on the Turn and River it was heads-up with Cal and Tom. The board was A-K-8-8-5. Tom turned up A-Q and Cal turned up A-5 Suited. I started splitting the pot.

Tom blurted out, “What are you doing?”

Mike was in the 8s, IMHO has the ability to be one of the best players in any limit as soon as he’s got his own mindset settled, exclaimed, “Yeah…what are you doing, dealer?” He was laughing his butt off.

Several other players chimed in that it was a split pot.

No shit, Diptard. Figure it out!

I never said a word, just carved the pot into two equal stacks and pushed it. Cal tipped me. Tom sucked his thumb…or whatever it is that losers do.

I spent my last down in The Bobby Baldwin Room. Did I mention that I love life? I do! I know I mentioned I’m drinking…so…

As previously stated, PokerWorks.Com is changing – drastically – for the better. The new pages will be online within a short time. The whole interface is changing. Be prepared! Don’t think you’ve gone to the wrong site or were redirected. The look and feel of Table Tango is changing also. Lots of updating and work still needs to be completed in that area…and it will – where the hell is that gallon of wine? Just kidding! It’s an improvement of everything. So get ready. But remember, if you bookmarked Table Tango, that bookmark will be defunct when the new site launches.

*****

I received this email from Mary, after a post I put up about a Sahara poker playing dealer. She agreed I could share it with you.

**Begin email**

Linda,

I read your piece on the dealer from the Sahara. When I was in Vegas recently the MGM poker room had just opened that week. I stopped in to check it out and play a few hands. I was not overly impressed with the room, but the folks at my table were interesting.

Among them was a dealer from the Sahara who was the meanest, crabbiest, rudest human I have played poker with ever. (I of course made a note to self to NEVER play at the Sahara). He had only been in Vegas about six months I believe. I think he was trying to earn at least part of his living playing and things were not going as expected, thus the reason he was playing 4-8. He impressed me so much that I was just telling a dealer at my card club about him yesterday. It was odd to read about him in your blog. He had apparently lost thousands in the time that he had been in Vegas to the “damn” tourists. When he stalked away from the table a gentlemen who plays for a living gently explained to me that the amount of money he lost was a lot for a poker dealer. It was a kind thing to say and a nice gesture to make on the part of the player.

The “pro” player himself was quite the character. He was looking at rooms to rent by the week up toward that end of the strip because of the new poker rooms. He was currently renting downtown. He and I had a lively discussion about the various games around town. How the games at Binions were disrupted due to the filming of a movie and how he did not like to play in the tournaments there because of the high vig. He told me that the longest he had ever gone without going bust was 6 months and how health insurance was beyond his reach. I got the impression he was a grinder who never got much above 6-12 either due to insuffient bankroll or lack of skill.

I wish that all the young people who think/dream about going ‘professional’ could have met these two.

**end email**

My second game of the night was spent in The Bobby Baldwin Room. Fairly quiet, the game broke up about halfway through my down because Chip had to leave. One of the funny parts of the conversation:

Doyle and Todd were both in the game. Todd had lost several hands to Eli. Eli, Todd, and Doyle in a hand, Doyle stated, “Don’t worry, Son. I’ll take care of him for you.”

I don’t even remember who won the hand. It was just the cute, protective father statement.

Then when Chip said he had to leave, Doyle started racking up too because he rode with Chip. Eli was razzing Doyle about leaving, Doyle said he rode with Chip. It caused a burst of laughter and comments like, “Your son is here, you could ride home with him.” – “Take a limo.”

Easy game, laughter, and I was on my way up to The Hill. Sam G. was in the 1s and ramble/gamble going on. He tipped me a buck on every pot I pushed him…really unusual. At one point when I stopped to question a player getting a hand, Sam told me to deal, if he was tipping me, he expected me to do what he said. *fall off my chair laughing here*

It’s all in the life of a poker dealer. Right? Right!

I made a colossal mistake in a $8-16 H game. Lots of action in the game. The 10s is a new dealer to our room (not a new dealer, just new to the room).

I put the Flop up, bet and raised, with six callers. I failed to give back $2 in change to the 7s. The 10s stopped me to explain that I hadn’t given the change. Not a problem there. I want the pot to be right. I gave the change.

The problem happens NOW! I put up a second Flop. Chit Mon! This is a first in my dealing career. I just burned and spun off three cards, started to turn them face up (yes, they were exposed), and did the double take. *moans from the players with cards*

I called for a decision. Leave the Burn, shuffle, and proceed. I did, with numerous apologies.

Good God! What have I learned in the last 22 years of poker…whatever it was, it went out the window in that moment.

*****

A little nit that’s making me crazy. Yes, I love the Shuffle Masters. But…I hate the fact that some of our dealers think, when they leave the box, that they are supposed to open it, put in the old deck and leave it as is for the new dealer.

That means the damn lid is open, a protrudence and irritation – about eight inches high – to reach over to try and collect time or anything else. I ask them to just set the used deck down and let me take it from there. They get a little huffy!

It’s like starting a shuffle, you start, you finish the hand, otherwise you set the deck down and exit the box. FIGURE IT OUT YOU DIPTARDS!

Thursday night – last week – I dealt in THE Bobby Baldwin Room. It really is beautiful. Three wood framed, glass entry doors comprise the walls and wrap the room in privacy with a view. The center door is the main entrance into the room and the other two are sliding doors. The lighting is gently subtle and lends an air of mystery to the quiet surroundings…an oasis in the middle of the action – an oasis that is the center of the highest action in the world. Two poker tables and room for relaxed seating tend to give the room an air of more than just gaming. Pictures of a few of our players hang from the ceiling, about six inches away from the walls…commemorating what we are all about…poker.

But when I hit Table 1 – in that room, I was not relaxed and comfortably serene. The game was $2,000-4,000 Mixed. I missed dealing this game for almost a month…no, silly, I didn’t miss it…I mean I skated around it in the line-up every night. It was time for the Line-up Fairy to find my name somewhere in the hat and shoot me through the game. So be it!

1s – Todd. 2s – Jennifer. 3s- Eli. 4 and 5s – open. 6s – Minh. 7s – Chau. 8s – Johnny C.

Johnny had his chips down, walking, and hadn’t taken a hand yet. I dealt Deuce to 7 Triple Draw. The chips went back and forth – except for Minh, he never got involved in anything while I was dealing…although he did talk to me a few times and I nodded as he chattered.

Eli was a teensy bit ‘salty’ with me because he won the first hand I dealt and then proceeded to lose each one after that. He’s never mean to me but he does lose his patience at times and it was speeding away on the back of the last hand I dealt. He snipped cards down the table once. Made a comment like, “I know she’s going to deal me like that.”

I just shut up and deal. He gets over it.

I dropped the deck after the second draw in one hand in which it was Todd and Eli heads-up. Thank Heaven I always do the same thing the same way when I’m dealing…the deck is in a relaxed, retrievable stub with the cap card on top of it. They never even blinked when I picked the stub back up and told them I’d call the Floor if there was any question in their minds…unison, “Deal!

Johnny had taken his seat by now and was being dealt in. Another player sat down in the 5s and in the BB. I announced the game change to Omaha 8 or Better – twice. The new player posted and I had dealt the first round and started the second round of cards when Eli and Jennifer both jump started with something like, “He can’t be dealt in. This is a six handed game,” as they were both starting to push their cards in like it was a misdeal.

I said, “It’s Omaha 8 or Better.”

Chau said, “Leave the dealer alone.” *TKS, Chau.*

I finished the hand. Todd shut the door to the room and it felt strange to be isolated in a poker oasis in the middle of the poker world. Someone said it was like playing in a home game and Chau said it sure was, he played against the same players everyday. *laughter*

I didn’t laugh. I was too busy trying to concentrate on chips flying, cards, the game, and wishing it was 3 a.m. Just as I was finishing my down, Sammy F. waltzed through the door and started negotiations to change the game and add PLO and raise the stakes to $3,000-6,000. They were still arguing as I left the room.

As I left the table, Chau threw me a Greenbird. ***Double TKS, Chau***

My next game was PLH up ‘on the hill’ – it’s beautifully enclosed with glass panels and wood also. Lee S. and three other players – they were talking about Sammy F. Apparently he had just left that game and sort of blown it apart although he was pretty big loser in it according to them.

My last game was Mixed $300-600, four handed. I think this is funny…maybe not but it struck me as so. Yen lost a hand and pitched his cards too hard. One of them slid off on the floor almost under Ritchie’s foot. Ritchie picked it up and handed it to me. Our policy is to count the deck down when a card hits the floor.

I immediately started counting it. Lenny was in the 2s. His conversation went something like this, “You don’t have to count the deck down, Linda. The shuffle master does it.”

I kept counting.

More persistent, “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I closed my eyes, nodded yes, and kept counting.

He kept it up, “You don’t have to count the deck.”

I was done by now, put the deck in the shuffle master and took out the other one, cut and dealt, with, “I haven’t heard that ruling yet.”

He replied, “You just did.”

I just chuckled. Whether or not he’s dead serious, he comes across that way.

I got pushed a few hands later. Eli, either taking a break from the $2,000-4,000 or cashed out and ready to go, was visiting with Lenny. When I walked by him, he was laughing, “And the way she deals me…” motioning towards me as he turned to walk off.

I demanded, “Get back here!”

He turned around and came right back. I asked, “Who the hell is playing those hands?”

We were both laughing as I escaped for the night.

Another day in paradise…