I had thought to race off to sleep as soon as I arrived home from work. Nope, I’m hanging out at the keyboard instead. The moon is full and extremely beautiful. And it makes the chill in the air seem even more extreme. Of course 57 probably isn’t a ‘chill’ to a lot of the world but right now I’m c-c-c-o-l-d. If this ends abruptly, I either shivered myself into total collapse or I fell asleep while hanging out here in cyber.

I feel the need to backtrack to Tuesday night. I left it sort of hanging in the air and there’s a lot more that I want to throw out, from the dealer side of it all, in the form of a rant. I really despise dealing the $40-80 Mixed game. When it first cranked off and became a regular, featured game everyday, the players always argued about how they would pay Time. I’ve posted about that before – and the confusion and mess it caused. Gradually, all the dealers and the supervisors must have just realized that it was always going to be a problem unless it was just taken out of the pot – the players wanted it that way. So be it!

It’s played eight handed and for some obscure reason, it’s usually spread on one of our ‘new’ – ‘bigger’ Holdem tables that came in when the room was remodeled. It’s impossible for any dealer in our room to reach the 3-4-7-8 (3 and 6 when it’s set up eight handed) seats’ chips and cards unless the player pushes them in, as there’s no ‘dealer cut out’ in the table.

So…I got to deal the Must Move and then Main Game both. The Must Move was five handed when I sat down. Tony – this game is perfect for Tony because he likes to gamble and he’s always on a draw – was in the 5s when I sat down…he moved to the 3s after a few hands. Adam was in the 4s – I could never complain about him in anyway, he’s always there to play and quite conscientious and helpful in almost all areas of game play. Thor was in the 6s. Karina was in the 7s. A stranger was in the 8s. The game was playing incredibly fast, bullets were being fired from all barrels and someone was in the wings, loading up the ammo clips for the next round.

Several comments were exchanged between Tony and the 8s – i.e. about the level of play. It was tinged with barbs and Tony was kicking butt for a few hands. Then Karina went on an incredible rush. The sky was raining chips and she was stacking them. The game was truly a bitch to deal. I couldn’t reach anyone’s chips or cards and I kept repeating, “Push them in please.” And how can one begin to think that they would figure it out and just push the damn chips in?

I made the comment to Adam that I couldn’t understand why those games were always started on the bigger Holdem tables. He said the players didn’t want to be all squashed together…not that he was giving me heat, he wasn’t. He said (jokingly) that they didn’t care about the dealers anyway. I replied, “I knew that.”

Smoke was starting to roll from Tony’s seat…he was hot and not in the manner that one needs to be hot to be stacking chips. STEAM to the max. I dealt his cards about five inches in front of his hand and he barked, “Could you get my cards to me, please?”

He really didn’t mean please. He was ready to blow. He took a few more beats. Not that he ever started with the best hand – he was always drawing – and he figures it’s a beat when he can’t complete his hand. So he did just what I’d expect him to do. He set his cards about one inch from his fingers when he was done with them and looked off somewhere like he was daydreaming.

Of course he was punishing me. I’m supposed to deal his damn cards right to him but he doesn’t have to cooperate with me at all. Two hands back to back, when he folded, I transferred the deck from my left hand to my right, pushed my chair back, stood up, leaned across the table, pulled in his cards, pulled my chair back in, sat down, and transferred the deck back to my left hand. He really showed me. Dipshit!

And you know what – I don’t care if he reads this tomorrow. No one that could ever have a serious thought about playing poker for a living should ever try to pick at the dealer when the dealer is doing their job the way it’s supposed to be done. Only an idiot slows the game down and lets the other players know they are getting ready to bleed…chips and more.

I got pushed. But there’s more, I just don’t have the energy left for it right now.

*Post poned*

Time to write. I’m not sure how to catch up. Sunday found me making a huge step…I actually put a down payment/hold on the Fifth Wheeler. And the rest of that story really is coming up; actually it’s a plan, but the time to divulge the plan is not now.

I blazed into work on Monday night, determined to work my full shift. Hell, I have to license that big assed truck and nothing is cheap in Nevada so I’d best be ‘burning and turning’ ’til my li’l fingers feel the pain. I started on Table 36, $30-60 H, then $15-30 H, $30-60 H, break, and off to Table 1.

The game was seven handed, $2,000-$4,000 but the game plaque read $4,000-$8,000. I questioned the limit when I sat down and the first bet came out. I really can’t figure out how dealers let that go. I have to look at the plaque to know what the hell I’m dealing. Perhaps I’m the only dealer that has to do that and the rest of them are psychic. That taken care of, I made it through the down without an error even though the ‘prop bets’ were flying like crazy between Jennifer, Eli E., and Barry G. I still do not understand or even try to figure out prop bets. It takes enough concentration just to deal the games and make sure everything is correct. The other players were Chau, Johnny, Minh, and one player was walking (their chips were covered by a Play-over Box) – Phil I. came in and took the empty seat just before I got pushed.

I got the magic reroute after that game. Really there wasn’t a lot of magic involved but it was kind of fun. $10-20 NLH on Table 15 – Phil Laak was in the 4s and Joe Hachem was standing behind him during the entire down. This table is right next to the Sport’s Book and a crowd gathered in there, looking over the rail at the game. I would bet all my wages for the next year that they were looking at Phil Laak and probably had no idea who Joe Hachem was. Joe was on the list and got into a game later but it was one of the Must Moves.

On my next break, as I headed through the casino for the Employee’s Area, I passed Jennifer Tilly. She was straight on, dead ahead, in the direction of the poker room. When I saw her in Aruba at the Ultimate Bet Award’s Banquet, I asked her if I could take her picture. She was damn cute, “Please do.” And then when Phil approached, she said, “Take a picture of me and my man.” I did…but it was too dark and it didn’t turn out worth a damn but thanks to ‘jasc’ it isn’t completely horrible. I said “hello” to her and she said “hello” as she sped on by.

The room began to quiet down around 1 a.m. and the game I was dealing broke at 2 a.m. giving me the ‘double bust out’. I took it and ran for the door.

Tuesday night was a stomper. I called in late as I really did go to the DMV and stand/sit in lines to license the truck. I managed to leave there, with everything in order, by 6:30 p.m. Dave was the person that issued my registration and license and took a lot of my money for State matters but he was probably the most cheerful, helpful State employee I’ve seen in a long, long time. And he wasn’t going home when he finished with me, they still had 85 people waiting. Nice to have someone wait on me that late in the day that had a smile and was thoughtful enough to notice my Driver’s License was going to expire in May and he would just do the renewal for me now so I wouldn’t have to come back. I jumped at the chance. I usually renew everything on the Internet but some things must be done in person.

I hit the room at 8 p.m. instead of my usual 7 o’clock time. I started a game with Amir and Mike Wattel, mixed $600-1200 limit with $100-200 PLO. They played a few hands, heads-up, and two youngsters came over from the game on Table 5. Most people really don’t realize how big of a game PLO is and how dangerous it can be. The two youngsters went to war in one hand, with over $15,000 apiece in the pot, one of them went home for the night.

$10-20 NLH on Table 15 was next on my list. Several people in this game were regulars. One of them, Sonny, believes I have some kind of bad mojo working with him and I’m positive that he’s hoping to find a few of the hairs from my head so he can build a voodoo doll to burn after a hand in this game. But before that hand happened, Jim and Cowboy were in a hand, about $600+ in the pot and they agreed to ‘chop’ it. Before they did anything, I said, “You can’t chop pots in this game.”

One of them said, “Just push him the pot,” motioning to the other player.

I sounded like a Jilted School Marm when I snorted, “You are not allowed to chop pots and it’s a serious infraction of the rule.”

What they planned to do was have one of them fold, I push the pot to the one with a hand, and he would just chop it, and push it. I was trying to stop this from happening. Thankfully, Montana Mike had just arrived from a Must Move game and he said, “Get a decision. He tried that with me before and it’s bad for the game.”

While I was calling for a decision, Cowboy told me to just deal the hand out. Jim showed top pair with an Ace kicker and Cowboy threw his hand away. I called for a decision again and Cowboy told me there was no reason to get one because no pot was being split. I stated that a request for a decision and clarification was asked for and we were going to get a decision. We did. The decision is – NO SPLIT POTS. Don’t worry…Jim and Cowboy both knew what the decision would be.

During the next few hands, Jim -9s, Cowboy 7-s, Jim quietly said, to Cowboy, “360.”

And I knew exactly what he planned to do. And it is HORRIBLE for the game. Chopping pots is bullshit! Anyone that thinks it improves a game should go home and stay there – let the rest of the world play poker as it’s meant to be played.

Now we get to the hand that Sonny is building the voodoo doll over. But honestly, where was his brain? I would have to put some seriously thought into this hand before I ever pitched all of my chips in the pot.

Sonny – 8s, was the SB. Seven players called $20 pre-flop. Sonny raised it to $200. Jim thought about it for a moment and folded. More than half of the field climbed right in for $180 more. The Flop came J-6-? – with two diamonds. Sonny stared at nothing and after about 45 seconds, jump started his own brain and asked, “Is it to me?”

While I was saying ‘yes’, Montana Mike jabbed him with, “You raised out of the Blind, so you don’t know it’s to you?”

Sometimes players say what I’d like to say…

Sonny bet $200. The ‘fold wave’ took place to Pablo – 4s, who went all-in for close to $700. Jim leaned into my ear and informed me that he folded a winner. The 5s called Pablo’s all-in. The ‘fold wave’ moved around to Sonny who blurted out, “All-in!”

The 5s thought about it for 3 ½ seconds and stated that he called. I burned and turned the Turn and River leaving all the money in front of each player – without pulling it into the pot. A diamond hit the River and the 5s turned over 7-4 of diamonds with a “I win” kind of thing. That he did. He started to count out his chips and Cowboy told him to let the dealer do it. I counted him down, neatly laying out his bills in overlapping lines of five. He had $2,550 all told.

While Sonny was going ballistico, showing A-A, and that was never any good BTW, Pablo had already folded and was counting out his next buy-in, Cowboy and Jim took a break from the game so they could split up the pot they weren’t supposed to split – away from the table.

Sonny had put out $1,000 and he was still muttering, “He call $200…he call $200…” as he glared at me and stood up and kept muttering and mumbling. I reached towards his stack and did a ‘hand wave’ – like send in your chips damn it…you’re short. He grabbed some bills and barked something like, “You need more, take it!” and threw his 100’s up in the air, some of them landing on the neat rows of the 5s’s bills.

I snapped, “That’s completely out of line and unnecessary.”

I pulled Sonny’s bills out of the way, counted them down, reached over into his stack, since he was stomping back and forth and snarling, and helped myself to $2,550 of his money, which I pushed to the 5s, who threw me a $20 tip and said, “That’s for you dealer!”

Woo hoo! I was really happy with that toke.

Jim and Cowboy returned to the table. Cowboy asked if I got it all figured out. To which I wanted to reply, “Yes and I have your stroll away from the game all figured out. Did you get your half of the pot?” But I didn’t. Not to worry, I ratted them out to the supervisor on my next break. Hey…it’s bullshit. If you’re going to play the game – JUST PLAY THE DAMN GAME. Stop trying to make your own rules…there are other players at the table with rights too.

I dealt the next hand and Sonny literally slammed his cards into my area right by the rack. I snapped at him, “Settle down or take a walk!”

Skip was up around the tables doing some surveillance and he asked what the problem was. I wasn’t the only person that pointed to Sonny. Sonny mutter mumbled through the last few minutes of my down and I got pushed – with him trying to stare a hole through the side of my head.

The best of it was that Sonny was only in first place before the Flop. Jim would have flopped a set of Jacks if he’d played the hand. Pablo flopped a set of sixes. And Sonny, with nothing to draw to except a bare assed Ace, had the biggest fit over empty air…and I’m still trying to figure out how he could just go all-in with that Flop, with two other players in the pot, and especially one of them being Pablo. Sonny’s played with Pablo before and if I were in a hand with Pablo, I’d be really leery because that boy ain’t in there on a draw or a feeling.

There’s more to the night but it will be for another time. I’m dragging.

First here’s a reply I received from Daniel regarding the Blogger Tournament.

—– Original Message —–
From: “Daniel Negreanu”
To: “Linda Geenen”
Sent: Friday, November 11, 2005 3:39 PM
Subject: RE: Linda – Bellagio dealer and the blogger tournament

>Hey Linda, it doesn’t look good for the 10th. I am shooting a poker show
> on exactly the 10th for CBS… tell em all I said hello, and maybe I can get
> a few things to you to give away as prizes if you are interested.

Of course I replied that I understood he was busy and yes, we’d love some prizes. And I removed his email address from the above email. I figure if he wants anyone else to have it, he’ll give it to them.

Secondly, the opportunity to play in the Special PokerWorks.Com $2000 free roll at Titan Poker on the 19th is rapidly approaching and time is running out. Get registered and meet me there.

And thirdly, the real world got in the way of everything on Friday. And not only that, those kids that live in the real world are grouchy as hell. Has anyone told them about the Poker World? Perhaps they need to get out and play poker now and then just to relax and ease up a little.

It started with me going to have a ‘tint’ put on the two side windows in the front of my truck…the back windows were done in at the factory. The guy that took my information, and had talked to me on the phone the day before, was a wee bit of a crab and snappy as hell until I told him I thought we were just missing each other in the conversation. He agreed and eased up. The bad news is that it was supposed to take around 45 minutes. I waited for an hour for them to get the truck into the garage and then it took 15 minutes. And yes I had an appointment. I’ve never figured out why everyone that works out of an office feels their time is so important but mine isn’t worth poop. It sucks.

Then it was off to Gaudin Ford to have a ‘code alarm’ installed in my truck. But not to worry, I got shifted around through four people, and sent to the wrong desk more than once, and none of them seemed overly friendly until I finally stated to the guy, that almost bit my head off for asking a question about my truck, that he was the fifth person I’d been sent to and everyone seemed a little bit out of sorts and grouchy. He got right off of it and became a real person, even escorted me to the right person that was going to take care of having the code alarm installed. Nice. But this touch with the real world was really worse than the first considering the number of people I had contact with before one of them mellowed out.

I left my truck for service and the parents of the sweet, baby boy, Riot, “ma – ma” and “da – da” picked me up for lunch. Riot really is a riot. And he’s at the age where everything he does is funny. He’s spitting out words like crazy. His “Oh No!” keeps me smiling. He waves to everyone and says, “bah – bah” and that’s just too funny all by itself. He’s a lunatic for a phone. He grabs it and almost chokes it to death while he makes sounds at it…and I do talk to him on the phone when I can’t spend time with him. Presenting his royal cuteness:

And now a step away from the Real World.

The WSOP Circuit Series kicked off at Ballys and I’m not sure I can stand the thought of another tournament right now. I may make it over there, I may not, and I know it sounds a little ridiculous that I haven’t been there already but listen to this news alert, I didn’t even go to the Rio during the WSOP. I get plenty of poker and tons of tournament news and we have three major tournaments a year at Bellagio and I deal the Aruba/Ultimate Bet Tournament and at Bellagio, we pick up all of the high limit when a tournament is in town. It’s hard to get all jacked up about going somewhere else to see more of what I spend 40 hours a week doing.

So…with all of that laid out behind me, I went to Monte Carlo tonight to meet five guys for dinner at Blackstone’s. One of them, Craig Singer, I’ve known for quite some time, and he’s the reason I was invited. Craig’s acquired the affectionate name of Sweater from his friend Doug. Long Story. Craig played in Bellagio’s 2004 Five Diamond World Poker Classic heads-up, $25,000 Buy-in Tourney.

And no…we aren’t an item, but we are good friends. Doug and Craig are the poker players out of the five. The meal was great; the company ‘over the top’, and they were going off to the Aladdin to have a few drinks and then possibly Craig and Doug were going to The Mirage to play poker.

If they’d been on their way to play poker, I would have tripped along and played too. The thought of drinking just didn’t grab me by the throat and make me want to be there…besides, it was Joe’s birthday and maybe they didn’t really want me tagging along. Hell they were in Vegas to have fun. I sort of shut down when it comes to screamer parties and lots of drinking. But poker? Shuffle up, baby!

Oh…and do I have my worlds mixed up? Which one is the real world?

Um-m-n-n-h-h-h…a few beers and a single table NLH $50+5 buy-in on Party after work cranked me right into high gear.

I got some stupid ass chat from one freak, asking: Is you’re a s s as loose as your play, Sweetie?

I gave him one of my favorite replies: I’m only nine and I’m playing on my dad’s account. What does that mean?

He replied: F U

To which I promptly replied: What does that mean?

He left me alone after that…and I got to bust him out of the tournament…I took second in that one but busting Mr. Freak was the highlight of the game.

So let me get on to what I was going to post about to begin with. When I hit the room, I immediately started searching for Derek ‘Tex’ Barch. We had arranged to meet for a visit before I began my shift. No game in Bobby’s Room – definitely didn’t have to look for him there. I hit the top section to find Johnny Chan, Amir, and Layne Flack playing Chinese Poker. I sat down by Layne and asked, “Where’s the Barchmeister?”

Layne replied that Derek had played all night and finally went to sleep sometime in the late a.m. I asked Layne if I could take his picture, “…anything for you, Sweetheart.”

I took it…he was being goofy and it’s hard not to laugh when he’s just being himself. I took two pictures; this is the closest to a serious face I could get out of him.

In an hour I was dealing that game. They were playing half Chinese and half PLO $100-200 Blind. Johnny was walking when I sat down. I announced, “Time Pot,” as I prepared to deal PLO. I asked Layne if I should take time from Johnny. The reason I asked rather than just taking it? He could be finished for the night and left his chips for a few minutes.

Layne reached over and snagged a $25 chip from Johnny’s stack and said something like, “Why not. Just because he’s Johnny Chan doesn’t mean he doesn’t pay Time.”

*Chuckling*

I took Johnny’s Time out of the chip and pushed back what was left over. Amir took off on a conversation about playing in California some years ago. He’d jumped in a game and after he’d been playing for a while and one of the players left, someone asked, “Do you know who that was?” Amir, “No.” And the other person said, “Johnny Chan.” Amir did a, “Who’s that?”

The whole thing was funny. It took a little more telling than that but that’s the gist of the whole thing. Amir would play the devil himself and never back down. Amir is the kind of player that is completely dangerous…sometimes I’ve wondered if he knows what he has. He plays with reckless abandon at times and just fires chips like he was launching rockets at the enemy during a beach landing. I’ve been dealing to him for quite a few years and he can get crazy at times hence the picture running through my brain when he played Johnny when Amir didn’t know who Johnny was. Not that it bothers Amir now that he knows who Johnny is.

Johnny returned. They played eight hands of Chinese with the person on the Dealer Button receiving two hands. Chips were zinging back and forth. A woman was behind Amir, possibly his wife – I don’t know, and when Johnny had the Button, he let her set one of his hands while he set the other…of course he looked at it first.

Once Layne acted like he was going to hand me his cards so I could set his hand. I started laughing, “I don’t have the faintest idea how to play this game and what or how anyone pays anyone.”

Sometimes it’s so difficult to set the flavor and scene of what’s going on in a game when I get there. Yet that is a key factor to the whole scene. There is always an undercurrent carrying nervous energy, tension/excitement over winning or losing or the consequence/fear of losing. Add egos, different nationalities, cultural customs, language barriers, and a few million other things and the curtains go up on a stage that is surpassed by none.

David Williams sat down by Layne and they talked about a variety of things. Amir got a phone call and had a patient that was being admitted to the hospital. Mike Wattell walked up and asked what the game was…stating that he didn’t want to play Chinese but would play the PLO. The $10-20 NLH game was running full bore a few feet from this game and most of the players were watching the action in this game. The game on the other side of me had Yen, Sonny, Jimmy W., Ali, and someone else in it. The game plaque in my game was incorrect as to limit and what they were playing and I called for a Floor Person to correct it

Layne had his hand set and put his arm and hand out into the middle of the table – he was in the 4s – and he was making a goofy face and I started laughing. I grabbed his hand and said, “You are so damn funny.”

He chuckled, “I’m stuck. I don’t know how to be unhappy. I laugh when I win, I laugh when I lose.”

Layne told David that him and me used to go together when we both lived in Montana. How in the hell can you not just crack up? I did.

About that time Amir was starting to crab about playing Chinese and trying to get Mike to play with them. As soon as they completed eight hands of Chinese and went to PLO they all agreed they would get rid of Chinese.

Johnny had the Button and threw out $400 and said he was putting the straddle on it.

Ironically, there was a note on the wall, in the office, by the time clock that stated “NO RACKS ON THE TABLES” AND “NO STRADDLES ON THE BUTTON IN A THREE HANDED GAME”. This was the first time the note had been posted. It’s pretty common in a three-handed game to NOT allow a straddle on the button. But something must have happened recently that the need for the sign was posted.

I almost spit. I said, “There’s a note on the wall in the office that specifically states no Straddles on the Button in three-handed.”

Johnny didn’t argue. He pulled his chips back.

I said, “Really there is…”

Layne said, “Oh…we believe you.”

Johnny said, “”I’ll just put a blind raise on it then,” as he pushed his four $100 chips back out onto the table

Layne said something like, “There’s a note that says Johnny Chan can’t straddle on the Button.”

They started laughing. So did I.

It was close to the end of my down and a few hands later, Amir and Layne went to war. Before the River, the pot had over $30,000 in it. Layne bet around $25,000 on the River and Amir put some thought into it before he folded.

I moved to the $10-20 NLH game. Most of the players kept watching the game I just left and within 10 to 15 minutes, Layne lost his chips and left. OUCH!

The conversation at the tables went back and forth about who was left in the TOC and eventually the word came in that Mike Matusow took first place. And I don’t care what the rest of the world says or feels about Mike, I like him. I can remember him first playing at the Mirage, when he was still a dealer at Sam’s Town, and wondering if he talked in his sleep because he sure as hell never shut up when he was in a game. I found him to be obnoxiously noisy and full of himself in those days. Perhaps he still is but the point is, I’ve acquired a fondness for him. I’m happy for him.

*****

*Begin Interlude*

I was a busy kid in coming up with a few wrinkles of my own for the Blogger Tourney 12/10/05. I contacted Michael Craig…yes he’s a friend of mine…The Banker, The Lawyer, and The Suicide King, and asked him if he would please speak to us at our gathering pre-tourney. He’s accepted. I sent that info to Bill Rini. I’m excited about it.

Then I sent Daniel Negreanu an email through his site, and immediately received a cyber reply that Daniel receives a lot of email (no shit?), and that he might not get back to everyone that emails him, blah, blah, blah. Ok. I figured it was a lousy way of contacting him anyway. So I hoped to stalk him out at Bellagio when he came in and ask him to attend our Blogger Tourney.

*End Interlude*

I happened to be sailing by Bobby’s Room on a break when I looked over and saw him standing, visiting with the players, as he was ready to leave the room. He hadn’t been in the game; he just obviously came in to talk to them. I waltzed right in, “Before you leave, can I talk to you for a minute?”

He just jumped right into my arms and gave me a big hug and I gave him one back. He said, “Sure,” and followed me out of the room.

I started with something kind of lame, “You know the world of poker bloggers is getting bigger and we are having our 2nd Annual Fall World Poker Blogger Tournament on the 10th of December. Everyone would just love you…well they do anyway…if you came by – for even a few minutes and said ‘hi’.”

He was totally focused on what I was saying.

“If I’m not in Toronto, I will. How about if we did something like the winner of the tournament gets to play me heads-up for a $2,000 free roll?”

I was flabbergasted. And excited. And hope he is in town and he doesn’t space it out. I would never really hold him to that statement because he’s a very busy kid and it wasn’t a commitment kind of statement, it was a ‘what if we did’ kind of statement. I told him I’d sent him an email through his site but I didn’t like his chances of getting it. He whispered his private email – behind his hand – and told me to send him one there. I thanked him profusely. Hell yes! I sent the email almost as soon as I got home for work. It would be so kewl if he made it.

Funny part of it was about an hour later I was dealing an $8-16 game and the players were talking about the ‘big names’ playing in Bobby’s Room and one of them piped up with, “I saw you talking to Daniel Negreanu,” his voice appeared to be tinged with awe.

I couldn’t help but chuckle. I replied that I knew just about everyone and had been dealing to them for a long time. I left it at that. And here’s where I have to leave this…my butt’s dragging…Sand Woman Land is calling.

Tenmile, I’m 58 years young. Quit with the elderly crap. You know that’s one of the best parts of poker – your age isn’t a factor unless you’re too young to get into a casino. Hah-hah-ha! But I enjoy your posts and visiting your pages so I forgive you this time…just don’t let it happen again.

*****

I played on shift for a few hours on Wednesday night. Go figure. The third hand I picked up, A-A, was of course beaten by A-2. She flopped bottom pair. Well how the hell could she throw that hand away? Then it was grinding, pitch, pitch, pitch, and finally Wayne appeared. He took a seat in my game and we whiled away a bit of time by gabbing. That always helps when I’m buried in a game because I don’t think about the hands and wonder if I’ll ever get even.

It was one of those odd nights. Wayne came in to visit with me (not a regular occurrence), Dan B., hiking buddy and friend, came in looking for me, and Mike C. appeared, he was going to play anyway but he was looking for me too – strange how it works.

Wayne left around 10:30 or so and the game I was in finally turned into the kind of game I would love to play in forever. I didn’t know a soul. They didn’t know anything. It was perfect. I managed to pick up a pot now and then and got most of my money back when I played J-7 H. The Flop was two hearts, 4-5-8. A 6 peeled off on the Turn. UTG bet $8 and the next player made it $16. I had a vision of 7-9…hell yes I’m gun shy. I’ve missed every straight and flush draw for months and it seems that if a hand would beat me, someone’s got it. I called. So did three other people. A deuce popped off on the River and UTG checked, the next player bet, I called, everyone else folded. He said, “I’ve got a straight,” as he turned over J-3 off.

I stacked a lot of chips, looked at a few more rounds of cards and gave it up for the night. I’m only good for about four hours anymore, then I start getting “WTF are you doing? You have other things to do!” messages that race across dark side of my brain. Only problem is they keep racing until they burn through to the light side of my brain and then I HAVE TO GO! Don’t think I’m not talking to myself about this problem with table hours. How in the hell am I ever going to win a tournament if I can’t stand more than a few hours of table time in a session? *subliminal messaging – You love to sit at the table…you love poker…you love to play…you don’t mind it when dealers are idiots…the Romeo sitting next to you that never shuts up doesn’t bother you…come on, Linda…you can do it!*

I walked past Bobby’s Room with my little racks of chips and stopped by the sliding door on the side (not the main entrance). Eli E. was sitting at the table, facing me, talking to the dealer, as he waited for more players to appear. When I slid the door open, he looked up. I stuck my tongue out and did the, “Plh-ghl-ghg-hlg-hg,” at him. He roared and waved at me. Don’t forget that he’s the guy that pulled my hair one night when I was dealing to all of the ‘higher ups’ in Poker Land. Why? Because he heard there was a dealer there that wore a wig and he wanted to see if it was me. *laughing still* I went on my way for the night.

Thursday night, I waltzed into the office and Pete asked if any of us wanted to just take the night off without clocking in…HELL YES! I had to hang around because a friend of mine was coming in from Texas and we were supposed to touch bases about a drink this weekend. So…hello poker game!

This game started off just the opposite of last night. I did know two of the players but they are fairly quiet and didn’t stay long. I went on a mini heater. Once you have lots of chips the game is a lot more fun. The guy on my right, David, was poker savvy and easy to visit with. The guy on my left managed to maintain a sense of humor even though he barely played a hand and his chips dwindled down to nothing over a few hours. Some of the guys really had no idea how to bet or play and everyone was talking it up and relaxed.

My friend from Texas arrived with a friend of his. We left the poker room to visit for a few minutes and settled on a dinner date on Saturday night. They both wanted to play in the tournament the following day and really had no plans other than that and getting into the ‘Vegas mode’. They went on their way and I returned to my game, ready to dash but decided to play a few more rounds.

Then it happened. One of our regular dealers sat down and the game went into total standstill. He dealt the cards, stared at the ceiling, or at the rack, or across the room, but never once did he tell a player that the action was to him. And since they were all new players, how would they know? It’s not my job to run the game when I’m in the dealer’s seat, so I sat, biting my tongue, for the first 15 minutes of the dealer’s down. We must have seen six hands in those 15 minutes. Each time a player finally figured out that it was up to him, he apologized, and acted on his hand. But our dealer sat there like a stump. I finally looked at the dealer…yes I know him…and said, “Honey, come on. Run your game. Tell them when it’s their turn to act.”

He acted totally indifferent, shrugged, “They are talking,” as he looked away.

Kee-rist! That was enough for me. I know dealer’s can make or break a game and this one lost me. I racked up, told everyone goodnight and how much I enjoyed playing with them, and hit the window.

And I don’t have to work tomorrow. Yeah…these three-day workweeks are killing me.

Oh and my buddy, Nicholas in the 3s, has a new blog address. Check it out!

It has occurred to me that I’m a slacker in the respect that when I mention someone that carries a blog, I’m not posting a link to their blog. Slacking in that respect is completely unintentional and I will try to change my ways. There are a lot of great blogs on poker. I try to keep up with reading but there are so many, it’s almost impossible for me with the limited time I have each day.

Continue reading Poker bloggers…high limit hell →

I had plans to sit down and add more character and happenings to Tango yesterday. The hours have managed to escape, filled with life and people, places to go, and things to do. And it’s almost Monday morning.

On Thursday, I posted about a ‘post thief’ that Iggy had sent an email about. I visited the page a few hours after Iggy’s email and it displayed ‘this page cannot be displayed’. The following day I received an IM from Wayne, the page was up and filled with meanness. The owner of the page could have simply apologized and I would feel kindly towards him…he must be a ‘him’ because he invited some of us ‘to choke on his cock’. But instead of an apology, the owner stated that he had been running an aggregator and it picked up posts that might be of interest but somehow the aggregator went ahead and posted the posts, as if the owner was completely innocent of the entire affair and had unfortunately been saddled with a run away aggregator that had developed a mind of its own and did what ‘it’ wanted to do.

So to those of us that screamed and yelled and had a fit about it, I’m assuming Iggy was one of the most vocal, the owner acted indifferent, belligerent, and hostile about the whole affair. I hate that! Because the owner did something that caused a consequence he didn’t like, he snarls and bites back at the world he’s trying to enter into…the poker world of blogging and interesting posts.

Damn that Renegade Aggregator!

Well since yesterday, late in the evening and through the night, and still now, the page is once again not there. The old ‘this page cannot be displayed’ is back. I say cheers to Iggy for standing up for us in the blogging hemisphere of Cyber – and BOOOO to the owner of the Renegade Aggregator. Mr. Owner – just go ahead, apologize, and take responsibility for your actions, and then step into our world.

*****

That beautiful truck I ordered about six weeks ago arrived. I spent a lot of my hours on Friday settling into the time it would take to get it out of the dealership parking lot and into my possession…Kee-rist! Forever!!! It won’t fit in my garage. I took this picture of Viv standing next to it up at Red Rock Canyon just to show the actual size of it. And no, she’s not a midget.

Of course part of my time over the weekend was spent c-r-u-i-s-i-n-g! What fun!

*****

The Saturday night card party kicked off with a half 7 stud, half 7 stud 8, tourney. It must have been fun. I played a short part of one of the stud sessions and let my nephew play the rest of it. I spent most of my night sitting out by the chimenea, enjoying the fire and the company of whomever wasn’t playing or was taking a break. My nephew, Chad, is learning to play poker. Of course he’s learning on my dime during the tournaments but I had more fun hanging out with a brew and stoking the fire – so it was a fair trade. Then we played Big Deuce. Next week I’m opting for a break in the action and won’t have any festivities at my house. The following week – possibly a Pan game again. That’s how we originally started, Pan, and now we’ve picked up new players so a Pan lesson is in the offing. I’m tired of Big Deuce. Pan will be a nice change.

*****

I play poker online – frequently. I’m still flabbergasted at the chat at times. Tonight I was playing in a single table $50+5 buy-in NLH Tourney. (It was my third tourney) and after looking at dead cards for the last three tables, when the blinds were $25-50, I raised it to$100 UTG with K-10D. The Button raised it $100, the BB called, and I raised it $740 more all-in. The Button folded. The BB took forever to decide to call and I had him covered by a small amount. He showed A-8 S and won the pot. But he couldn’t be happy with that, he chatted, “Fn broads! Just because they live in Vegas they think they know how to play.”

Retardo to the max! I made it through the BB and won the pot and typed back at him, “Whiner”.

I didn’t make it through the SB but got to see his reply, “How can I be whining when I beat you?”

Unfortunately Party doesn’t allow observer chat right now (or they are having a problem with it) so I couldn’t throw some pepper into his open nostrils.

One of the greatest promos I’ve found going on right now, in the online map, is TitanPoker. I am going to play in the $2000 PokerWorks/TitanPoker free roll on November 19th. The only requirement is a $20 deposit and there are a lot of other great deposit bonuses going on besides that one. Don’t be lame – get game, and I’ll see you in the tournament on the 19th.

I ventured home from a few hours of dealing on Wednesday night to find an email from Iggy

*begin email*

Subject: iggy here

i’m still your biggest fan. 🙂

found this jackass stealing your posts at
http://www.bigslickaddictcom/?p=140

and am harassing him and his registrar. just thought you should know.

*end email*

When I visited the site, sure enough, bold and downright irritating, pictures and all, were some of my posts. This is horrible. It’s one thing if someone uses your writing and thoughts and puts a link back to where they got it from, but to just steal it and use it is…well…obnoxiously freaky and I hate it.

A few hours later, all the info was gone. I think your harassing the jackass paid off, Iggy. Thank you so much just for being you. And we are going to meet at the WPBT – Saturday, December 10th. Info here.

Yippee! I love Poker! I love u 2 Iggy!

*****

Excitement to the max!!! That Ford F-350 I mentioned in the October 21st post is going to be in my garage along about tomorrow night…that is if its big ass will fit in my garage. It is one big dude…perfectly built for one dudette – me! The picture doesn’t really do it justice as mine is a four door, 4×4. So on with the next step of the plan – get ready for this…

I still have a lot of research to do but this is in the works. Well…what the hell did I need that big ass truck for? The plan is in progress. Sleep is on the agenda so I can pick up the big ass truck…more later.

Something strange must be going on in my brain. I’m not racing in to sign the E/O list every night…well…er…ah…except on Thursdays. I’ve actually had a three-day weekend, every week for the last three weeks. Don’t think it ain’t heaven when my shift supervisor asks me if I want Friday off. I jump on the opportunity like a duck on a june bug.

But let me get right into the Tuesday night poker scene. The room was pretty damn well deserted. I started on 16B (any table with a ‘b’ behind it is a break table), headed down to Mangia (the help’s hall) and had a burger and actually sat with three other dealers…they joined my table, one at a time. I normally dine and sit alone. I’m not big on dealer noise and grief so I chose to sit alone. Yes…I’m having a wee bit of a problem with dealers right now. I don’t want to hear from most of them. They are annoying and they seem to enjoy hanging out in clusters and announcing their non-tip downs and player grievances…like things will change if they sit around and talk about it.

So, without further ado, let’s get right into Tuesday night poker. One of our dealers, mentioned before on these pages, Allegra, is unbelievable to deal to. She always plays $4-8 H. She’s always the live one. She always does everything she shouldn’t do as a player and being a dealer, one would think she would know better. It just ain’t so. She jumped to three different seats during my down and with a seat open and a player coming in, if the new player wants to post, the player wanting the seat change must move immediately. She appeared to be angry when I told her she has to move now instead of waiting a few hands. She must know the rule…she’s been at Bellagio since opening. She plays every hand. She checks out of turn. She folds out of turn. She tells other players what she has, with three or more way action. No matter how many times I’ve cautioned her, she still does all of the above.

She ends up in the 1s. I can see her cards – 10-4 off suit. She’s heads-up with the 2s. On the River, they both check. They show each other their cards. He lays 4-4 face up on the table. He knows he’s beat because she has a pair of 10’s with the cards on the board. But still…he shows his hand. She takes her 4 and puts it with his 4’s and turns her 10 face down. WTF????

I snort, “Allegra, come on!”

She innocently says, “He’s folding.”

I say, “He turned his hand face up on the table. If you want the pot, you have to turn yours face up on the table.”

“O-h-h-h-h…he said he was folding,” as she turns up the damn 10.

I hate – do you hear me – HATE to deal to her.

I never cut her any slack and always stop her when she tries to do something out of turn. Consequently, most of the time, she doesn’t like to play when I deal because I won’t let her get away with anything or I’m not her lucky dealer, or the stars aren’t aligned, or whatever the case may be.

Right at the end of my down, I asked for her blind, she indifferently acted like I had an eye in the middle of my forehead and couldn’t speak coherently as she snipped her finger back and forth across the felt and said, “Deal me out.”

I put a missed blind button in front of her, the 2s posted the BB, and then she realized a push was coming through – I wasn’t going to be dealing to her in another minute – so she said, “Deal me in,” and threw in her blind.

Kee-rist! I was happier than she was that I was getting pushed.

Then I was off to a $15-30 H game. Dorothy was in the 10s. I hadn’t dealt to her in a very long time…possibly two to three years. I was sorry to be dealing to her now. She has that ‘over 50’ red hair that looks like it would break and crumble into dust if you touch it. She’s not in good health and is a rather large woman. She’s also a perpetual whiner and it’s always the dealer that makes her win or lose.

The game was fairly active, Dorothy lost a few hands, nothing monumental, but she wasn’t happy. The 9s left and Dorothy made the statement that her legs were swollen, she would put her feet up on the chair and if someone came to take the seat, she’d move her feet. Well…ok!

She posted her BB and lost that hand. She then told me to deal her out. She had lost $400 with me dealing to her and she couldn’t afford to lose her money. I gave her a missed SB Button and continued to deal.

About 10 minutes later she hit my arm…damn I’m glad that red, brittle hair isn’t catching, I sure as hell don’t want it…and went on to tell me that she didn’t want me to take it personally that she was sitting out while I was dealing. She just knew that she couldn’t win with some dealers. And it went on and on and on.

The 6s was a little cutie and he was giving me eye contact now…it was almost ‘roll your eyes’ eye contact because you can’t believe someone can really say all that with a straight face. I wanted to fall off my chair laughing as I listened to her and watched him.

I finally said, “I remember you, Dorothy. I just haven’t seen you in a long time.”

A minute later and the 8s told Dorothy that he knew exactly what she was talking about. Sometimes he just took a walk because he knew he would lose with a dealer. D-A-M-N!!! I should be playing in a game with these people when I’m dealing…I’d be stacking their chips.

I got pushed. My next game was the Dealer Nightmare game…$40-80 Mixed. It’s like dealing a Dead Spread. The same group of players trying to beat each other’s bankroll.

Off to $10-20 NLH and then a $30-60 H game that was in complete chaos from the beginning of my down to the end. Seat changes, players leaving, no one coming in, requests for table transfers, short handed…ugh, double ugh, triple ugh. Jo was in the 5s. I had to laugh. She used to deal at the Gold Coast. I played in her games all the time. She used to deal to me, now I deal to her. Life has a way of turning everything around.

The straw that should have broke the camel’s back (but all it did was leave me laughing my ass off) was a $20-40 Stud game. The line-up? Gus – shoot the dealer but use a pistol instead of a shotgun so she’ll live through it – was in the 4s. None other than Creep Freak Hall of Famer, Marty C. in the 5s. These two were both in this post.

Gus wasn’t happy after about the fifth hand I dealt. He was muttering and mumbling in Greek or some language I didn’t understand…but it was directed at me.

The 1s was new to the game, I knew everyone else there. At one point when Marty and Gus were mumbling, I turned to the 1s and quietly said, “Welcome to the group.”

He laughed. How can anyone sit through that game, with that crew and not laugh? Drugs please. Lots of them and order out for more.

Close to the end of my down Gus was mumbling that he’d lost $400 with me dealing. Of course his chasing couldn’t have anything to do with it, it was all me. Then Marty and Gus went to war. Gus said he had K-K and didn’t call on the River. Marty said he had two pair as I pushed him the pot and he started stacking.

Gus was mutter mumbling, guttural kill sounds. I dealt the next hand and Gus was low. I announced, “Four of Diamonds.”

Gus became a silent lump for about 30 seconds. Marty prodded him, “Four of Diamonds. You’re low,” waving his hand at Gus.

Gus stood up, picked up his cards, and threw them at me. He missed.

I looked at Marty and said, “Stop making him mad.”

Gus went crazy, “Dealer, just do your job!”

Marty jumped on the bandwagon, pointing at me, “I can call the Floor Man on you!”

I looked at Marty and said, “Please do.”

Gus slammed off. Marty mumbled again that he could call the Floor Man on me. Again I told him to do it.

Kamell happened to walk up at the same time. Marty leaned over, like an old woman that needs to gossip and doesn’t want anyone to know she started the rumor, and spoke behind his hand to Kamell. After Marty finished, Kamell said, “She’s pretty sharp.”

And Mike – 6s said, “Men are the ones that go through PMS.”

Everyone, except Marty laughed. Mike went with the conversation, I agreed with him, the game went on.

Gus had left a cookie on the napkin on the table and about $60 in $5 chips. Mike took off with the fact that someone should steal the cookie just to really piss Gus off. Then it got even better. Mike said he’d take a bite out of it and put it back if no one would tell on him.

Marty chortled, “Linda will tell.”

Knock – Knock. Someone tapped on the glass. Marty was acting almost human. Most of us were laughing over how Gus would react if he came back to find a bite out of his cookie. Then the noise went to the fact that he got the cookie from Mangia…one of the dealers brought it to him.

Marty won a pot and threw me $1 and said, “Now get off my back,” and he was even acting like he was enjoying the whole show. I took the $1. I gave it to the Cashiers when I left for the night. He is never going to crawl out of the Creep Freak Hall of Fame.

Mike was ready to jump up and take a bite out of the cookie but Gus came back into the room. He brought more chips to the table. And Marty leaned over to whisper to Gus behind his hand again. I’m sure he was telling Gus that he’d ratted me out to Kamell. Reach around and pat yourself on the back, Marty.

I got pushed. I walked around behind Mike, leaned over for his ears only, and said, “What would have really been funny is if you had a spare cookie and had taken a bite out of it and then put it on a napkin over his cookie.”

I know most dealers don’t have as much fun as I do. It’s too bad. I don’t have a road map to tell them how to get there though.