*post – continued*

I ran out of steam after the $200-400 Mixed game – in both writing and in dealing – but it’s time to continue.

The next game was $10-20 NLH. The 2 and 8s were walking. I snagged $7 from each of their stacks before my butt hit the seat – asked for Time – the game was off and running.

A ‘play-over’ sat down in the 2s. The Play-over won two huge pots and the player returned for his seat. George. I felt terrible for him, I knew he was losing as a very small stack of chips remained in his absence and he returned with a stack of bills to fortify his position. He’s a great guy to deal to, even-tempered, never mean, and two of his children play at Bellagio also…a family affair.

The Play-over was stacking and racking, having won two huge pots.

George was grim; stating that he didn’t want anyone playing over him. He said that he’d only been gone a few minutes, when in truth, he’d been gone for almost half an hour. He said he was there when I sat down. He wasn’t. I reminded him that I’d had to take Time from his stack.

It’s got to be horrible to fade a losing streak and never win a hand and then return to watch someone sitting in your seat, racking up chips they’ve just won when you can’t snag the Blinds, let alone a pot.

He did win one pot before I left the box – it had over $2,000 in it. I hardly ever feel anything for anyone when I’m dealing and they are playing…that’s the game of poker…but I was happy for him that he’d managed a step forward instead of another step backward.

Then it was off to $40-80 Mixed. This little jewel was a slammer. The boys were there to gamble…and they did. David Williams was sitting behind the 2s off and on – nice smile!

Ahhh…let’s talk about $40-80 7-card stud. When I sat down, it was like being condemned to a half hour of hell. The only bright spot at the table was Chris M. and he was playing Troy’s chips while Troy visited with someone.

The 1s left and Nick jumped into it. The 2s – a stranger, the 3s has been around – name unknown, 4s – Gus, 5s – Troy, 6s open, 7s – General Jeff, 8s – aghhh…ouch…pain and grief…none other than Marty.

It started like this. Marty looked at three hands, stated, “My favorite dealer. Deal me out.”

Music to my ears, I’d love to deal him out forever. Numerous other posts about his unwonderfulness. He has to leave the table when Sylvia deals…cause he’s such an absolute idiot, he can’t shut up and just let the dealer deal.

The 3s managed to ‘snip’ his cards at my fingers on Fourth Street, with, “Oh…sorry!”

No he wasn’t. He tried to hit me with them

He did the snip thing again a few minutes later. I crabbily said, “Stop sending your cards in like that.”

He never said a word. He knew he was out of line.

Chris was animated, visited with me a little as I dealt, Marty took a walk, the game went on…nothing exciting.

Then Troy returned to claim his seat, Chris sat behind him, and Marty returned…ugh…it couldn’t get much worse…but it did.

Nick got involved in a big hand; semi begged everyone to get out so he could ‘finally’ win a pot. That didn’t work. He ended up heads-up with Gus a few minutes later and every time Gus bet, he showed Nick his hole cards…exposing an Ace that gave him Aces up with the Ace in his up cards. Nick finally folded.

They’re both Greek…maybe it’s a bonding thing. Gus is the one that kept chanting, “Shoot the dealer. But use a pistol, not a shotgun,” or something to that effect about six months ago. He thought he was being funny then, now I have no idea what he thought he was being.

Then the fertilizer hit the ventilator. Marty demanded to know why I was giving a mini-scramble before I put the cards in the Shuffle Master. I replied, “Because Gus likes it that way.”

And yes…that’s the reason. Gus always asks me if I would mind…when I first sit down.

Marty had a piss fit, “You have the Shuffle Master…”

Gus blurted, “Does it bother you?” looking at Marty.

I replied, “Everything bothers him.”

Gus to Marty, “Then why don’t you go take a laxative so you can get it out of your system?”

Marty clammed up…thank you, God!

Then Troy was calling a $40 completion on the Door Card, but put out six $5 chips, three $10 chips and reached back to his stack.

I declared, “Raise!”

Troy was flustered, “Hell no! I don’t want to raise. What do I need out there?”

I pushed back the two $10 chips. General Jeff called $40 and between three players, they built a huge pot. Troy won it.

Nick ended up going all-in a few hands later. At least that’s how I saw it. He called an $80 bet on the River and couldn’t win. He had about four miscellaneous chips of different colors hidden under his arm. He pulled our three $100 bills and pushed one out for the ante.

I told him he needed $400 to take a hand. (Yes…in $10-20 and higher, a player can have one short buy-in in an eight-hour period. But the short buy-in must be half the minimum buy-in, which is $800).

Gus took up in Nick’s defense, stating that Nick didn’t go all-in because he had a $5 and a $1 chip still (yes…$5 is the amount of the ante, and if he did in fact have a $5 chip left, he was entitled to buy $300) but even though I craned my neck, trying to look under Nick’s arm, he wouldn’t move or show that he had the $5 chip. Instead he mumbled, “If the player’s don’t mind…”

There was no mumbling on my part, “It’s not a player decision, it’s a house decision. You have to have $400 to come back in.”

By now I might have had $2 in my pocket and it was like watching Freddie keep coming back – year after year after year.

Nick snorted, “Deal me out then!” as he jumped up. He disappeared, leaving his chips on the table. But even then, looking at them, they were an odd assortment of bright blue, something shiny red, and none of them looked like Bellagio’s chips…so…get the hell out of here Nick. As in do I care?

A few hands passed, Troy won them, and The General went nutz-z-z-! His eyes were flashing and he was barking at me, “From now on, when he raises, you aren’t going to give him back chips and let him just call! He has to raise!”

WTF??? Oh – let’s jump back into The Poker Hand Time Machine. He was talking about the hand where Troy threw out the $5 chips and was trying to call.

It was laughable! I exclaimed, “There was no action behind him! You hadn’t acted. He doesn’t have to raise!”

The next dealer was tapping me out.

The General was livid…I had talked back to him…slap my mouth.

“Yes he does! He has to raise.”

The 3s piped in, “He said raise.”

I replied, “No, I said raise.”

The General went on, “Call the Floor Man. He has to raise.”

I said, “Well you’re a bit late for a decision. It’s over with.”

I looked at Troy as I squared the deck up for the next dealer, “The problem is you won the fucking hand. If you’d lost, it would have been ok.”

Troy said, “You’re right, darlin’.”

Marty jumped in, “There’s a dealer behind you.”

I said, “I don’t need to hear anything from you,” as I pushed out of the box.

Troy threw me a Red Bird. Yipppeee! $7 and all the heat and hell I could take. It just don’t get any better than this.

I told the incoming dealer that Nick needed $400 to get back in the game and that he’d gone all-in.

A few minutes later my butt’s in the seat of a $4-8 H game and these guys are actually smiling and laughing. WTF is wrong with them? Oh yeah…real people that have a life.

I had a front row seat, watched Nick return, the dealer called for a decision, and Dave appeared. I could hear him ask, “Who was the dealer?” as he looked around, everywhere but towards me.

I raised my arm. Nick started screaming at me, “Yes…(Greek swearing)…we know it was you…” a torrent of something came out his mouth as he got dealt in and Dave walked away.

Nick was still barking at me across the heads of my little $4-8 players and I called Nate over. I quickly explained what had happened at the last table and told him Nick was yelling and gesturing at me from the other game. Nate headed that way and Nick clammed up.

Well…as nightmares go and nights from hell never end, this little $4-8 game broke up and I got re-routed. Right back up to the $10-20 NLH game and then another round through $40-80 Mixed.

But the good news is that Pete didn’t need me for the Friday shift. Three days off, thank you, God!

*end post*