After finding out that I couldn’t play on shift at Bellagio, on Tuesday night, I opted to sign the E/O. Marie was already on her way to play cards with me and when I informed her of the fact that I would be dealing and wouldn’t be playing, we both agreed that when I was off the clock, we would go somewhere else to play. I was out within an hour and half and we headed for The Gold Coast. The last time I played there was over a year ago with Wayne. We hit the poker room, three games running, and got on the list for $4-8, and $2-4. Their games are played with a half Kill. We both got a seat in $2-4 almost immediately. I really don’t want to go crazy with a play report because that is best saved for when ‘the Pan Crew plays the Gold Coast’ – sometime in the future. I did have a slight wrinkle with two of the dealers.

The first one, I specifically asked if I could use the cell phone at the table. Reply, “Yes.” I dialed a #, he dealt me in, I called $2, 10 way action, and the dealer looked at me and said, “You can’t be on the phone when you’re in a hand.”

WTF????

I spouted, “I just asked you if I could use the cell phone at the table.”

He replied, “You can, just not when you’re in a hand.”

“Why do you think I asked?”

I pitched my hand immediately and stood up from the table. Truthfully…I was pissed. I finished the phone call, I was in the 3s, Marie was in the 7s, the 8s opened and she asked if I wanted to move next to her. I did. I was moving out of the Blind. The SAME dealer asked me if I wanted to post. I said I would wait. He threw me a ‘missed blind button’. I told him I didn’t miss the blind. It ended up in a table discussion in which the dealer, with a few players for back up, informed me I was missing the blind by not posting. I informed them I was moving out of the blind but not missing the blind and until I missed it, I shouldn’t have the ‘missed blind button’. Not to worry, not one of them could figure it out so I sat down and just SHUT UP! I waited until my blind came to play.

I don’t even want to go into any more of the dealer crap. I think I need to write an article on how to deal a poker game…perhaps I feel the need more so than people that deal feel the need to learn to be a better dealer. Oh well…that’s another issue at another time. The best part of it is that Josh, one of the dealer trainees that came to my house over a year or so ago, to learn to improve his dealing and was going to work at The Gold Coast Poker Room when it opened, came on shift later. We had a chance to visit and renew our ties. Nice! And Josh, I don’t have your email address or phone #…send it!

*****

When I went in to work on Wednesday night, big news update on the E/O-Play. We could play on shift; we just had to clock out to do it. But even when we clock out, we have to stay in the room, cannot have a ‘wine’ – must be ready to clock back in and deal if needed. Yikes! That ain’t my gig. I’ll wait to see what the next news update is. But I have been listening to dealers spout that it came from a wild game at MGM in which seven dealers raised every time it came to them and one player (obviously not a dealer) objected and went to the floor. I suppose that could set it off – but what a chump with a capital ‘c’. I’d love to play in a game where seven players max raised it every hand.

I signed the E/O but not the play, dealt for one hour and was out.

But the best laugh of laughs was the first game I dealt on Table 29. It was $20-40 7 stud. John AKA Mac – 1s, Super Ugly AKA J. C. Pearson – 2s, Pat – 3s, Joe R. – 4s, regular – name unknown – 5s, Tom – 6s, woman – semi-regular – name unknown – 7s, Morris 8s. I walked up to the table, tapped Charlene out of the box, and she finished the hand in progress. Joe R. was heads-up with Super Ugly. The pot was huge. They both opened their hands at showdown. I didn’t even look at their hands, I just knew from the way Super Ugly was starting to twitch and mumble that he lost the hand.

He glanced up and saw me…no…I refuse to look at him but my peripheral vision caught his glare – plus the hate rays from those eyes require a special shielding device…which I have intact around my aura when I have to contend and deal to/with FREAKS. (Do you think he will ever read this…Kee-rist! I HOPE SO)! He picked up all of his cards, face up and face down, and threw them at the muck. They mixed in pretty well…well enough that Charlene had to pick through the cards to turn the ‘up’ cards down to straighten the deck.

I started laughing. I even turned my head, towards the cage and phone desk just to avoid the dreaded hate rays, but I couldn’t stop laughing. Charlene pushed back out of the Box and turned to look at me. She was laughing too. Well…come on kids…how smart do you have to be to figure out that if you can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen? And it’s always the ‘dealuh that did it’. So…we laugh. If you’re stoopid – you are going to get laughed at. Everyone in the game is laughing their ass off at you too. They won’t do it blatantly because they want you there, but as soon as you turn your back or leave the game, their laughing their asses off at you for being an idiot. And don’t think the other players don’t make comments when you leave. They do!

I planted my tush in the Box and Joe, in a deep, husky voice, asked, “Hi Linda. How are you tonight?”

He was avoiding looking at Super Ugly as he stacked chips.

I replied, “Great. Did those brother-in-laws all go home?”

He replied that they did.

This scene sort of reminded me of a Mirage game some years ago. The game was $75-150 Stud, Joe was in the 8s, Super Ugly was in the 7s, and when I sat down and announced, “Time pot!”, Super Ugly was racking up, announcing that he was done for the night. Not to me but to the table in general. God forbid he would ever address me as if I were a person. I’m a ‘dealuh’. That means my blood isn’t red, and I don’t breathe oxygen. I’m from another planet…I have to be because I couldn’t possibly be human.

Joe looked at Super Ugly and said, “Stay and play awhile. It’s early.”

Super Ugly did a, “Oh…well if you want me to play awhile…” and put out his ante. He lost the first hand I dealt, and the second, and the third, and every hand I dealt in that half hour…simply because he wanted to prove to me that when he won a pot he wasn’t going to tip me. It really wasn’t a war with the other players; it was a war with me. I know you think I’m kidding or creating that tale out of thin air, but I guarantee you, he’s a sick fuck and that’s what his reasoning is.

He lost every hand. He glared, he stared, he made a thousand comments, “Ah’m saving the blues…” as he wanted to throw the cards at me but he doesn’t even have the balls to do that…he slams them face down in front of him after an exaggerated, frustrated, shaking motion with the cards held about six inches off the table.

The next night, I returned to the same game, Joe was in his customary seat, Super Ugly was nowhere to be seen, Joe looked at me, “I’m really sorry…”

I knew what he meant. He knew the half hour was hell for me and he instigated it by asking Super Ugly to stay. Joe and I have weathered a lot of storms. I love that old fart. He probably thinks along the same lines about me. As to what Super Ugly thinks…who cares?

Back to present day and the $20-40 game. Super Ugly won one pot during my deal…but he didn’t slam the cards or act like a jackass other than when he called Rachael to bring him $500 in chips. He stated, “Ah won’t be needing any blues.”

I ignored him. I have my hate ray shields up…and they send all that venom right back to the sender. Touché!

So ended my Wednesday…