When I’m right, I’m wrong. It just seems to go that way when certain people are around. Of course I have one specific one in mind right now…Jimmy Tran. He always seems to be at war with dealers. It’s a personal war for him. As soon as the dealer breathes, Jimmy’s on the alert and ready to jump down their throat if they double gasp. He isn’t necessarily mean but he can be rude as hell…maybe it’s just me – when I open my mouth – and he’s not that way with the other dealers. Sure…there are other posts about him.
The game is $25-50 NLH. One play-over in the 6s, a seat opens, Jimmy’s name is called and I’m told he’ll be my player. Another seat opens; the play-over is the next person on the list and he acknowledges he will take the seat. Instantly another seat opens. The play-over is moving from the 6 to the 5s and as Jimmy arrives and starts to put his chips down, I motion to the 3 and the 6s and say, “You have a choice.”
His face twists and he demands, “W-H-A-T?”
Without losing my composure, I said, “You have a choice of seats.”
Jimmy looks at me as he slams his chips into the 3s and sits down. Carl (I used to deal to him in Gulfport at the Grand) is in the 7s; he looks at me and shakes his head at Jimmy. Carl gets the picture. I smiled at Carl and said, “I deal with it everyday.”
A few hands later, the 5s left, Jimmy moved over. Jimmy was the SB of $25, Gabriel – 6s had a missed Blind Button – Carl the BB of $50. Two callers, Jimmy folded, Carl raised it to $400 total, I pulled Jimmy’s $50, Carl’s and the other two players $100 bets into the pot. Carl had raised with some $25 and $100 chips. I announced, “Raise, $300 more.”
Jimmy went ballistic. “Wait!” as he grabbed at the pot and started pushing the chips around before I could stop him, “He put too much!”
Carl dryly said, “She ain’t made a mistake since ’01.”
Jimmy did apologize stating that he thought Carl had $50 too much in the pot. That might be the only apology I ever get from him.
Carl lost the hand. Jimmy now had the Button. Gabriel returned and bought the Button. Carl looked at the free hand and decided to rack up. Gabriel was the Button, after Carl left, I announced, “No Small Blind this hand,” and turned to the 8s to let him know he was the BB. I dealt the hand, it finished, and Jimmy reached across Gabriel grabbing the Button and throwing it in front of the 8s. I moved it back, trying my best to keep an even voice, “It’s a dead Button.”
Gabriel jumped in and told Jimmy that Carl had left after his SB and it was a dead Button. Jimmy didn’t say anything; he just nodded. DAMN!!! He was wrong again.
That was the end of my Jimmy experience for the down, except for some glares and a few hand motions because I didn’t deal him anything. But it’s perpetual. He will never believe that I know how to do my job. Maybe he will never believe that any dealer knows how to do their job, so it’s not just a ‘Linda’ thing. I try not to let it get on my nerves…just keep dealing.
My next game was a rock and roll $80-160 H and then off to $150-300 Mixed, with Men Nyugen in the 2s…yup…Men “The Master”. Kee-rist! Of all the games I didn’t want to be noticed in – or do anything to create a disturbance – it was this game. Men can be particularly brutal to dealers…although he’s toned it down a lot over the years of being forced to ‘sit out’ at tournaments.
Not to worry, just like it was written in stone in a cave – that Linda has to make a mistake in this game – it happened. Deuce to 7 Triple Draw. The first two players draw four – Tony 8s (Tony’s Asian and just a little superstitious), and Men draw three. I announce the draws, and then for some lame brain reason (known only to the person who chiseled the stone in the cave) I gave four each to the first two players, two to Tony, and two to Men. As soon as I pushed the two to Men, Tony started barking that he needed three.
Men’s barking was louder than Tony’s. He informed me that he needed three and that I should leave all the cards in front of the players before I begin to give the draw cards. The worst of it is that I normally do, but the way they all pushed their cards in, it was a shamble. He was even exaggeratedly calling me, “Honey!”
I agreed with him – I definitely should have left the cards out in front of the players. That slowed him down. I told him I was sorry and I would call for a decision. He was grandstanding and talked it up for another minute or so and then decided he knew which card was his last card and I would give it back to Tony and then give him three. That is if everyone agreed. Everyone said, “Ok.”
David Levi was in the 3s (Damn I love this guy). He suggested they just chop it up. They went for it. There was one odd $25.00 chip. David grabbed it and said he would give it to the low card of the three, when the game changed to stud. Men wanted it chopped.
David said, “Ok, $8 for each of you and the odd $1 for the dealer.”
Men went for it. David threw me the chip; I chopped it up, and got the odd $1. Holy hell…what is going on here? No heat and a tip on a pot I screwed up!
Don’t think I wasn’t thanking my lucky stars to escape this baby without any scrapes or bruises. When I got pushed, I leaned over, touched Men on the arm, and when he looked up, I thanked him for helping me with that pot. He said, “…I’m a lover, not a fighter, Baby.”
I was off and running to $10-20 NLH. Before I knew it, it was close to 1 a.m. and Jason asked if I wanted to escape. I did. The dreaded garage sale was on the horizon. Dreaded? Hell yes! A lot of work, a lot of stress, and a lot of memories out on the tables with a minute price tag on them and life is shifting into the next chapter.
Thank God for Vivienne. If she and my nephew, Chad, hadn’t helped me pack, swish dust, load up, inventory, and all that other stuff, I think I would have just set it in the street and let everyone take what they wanted.