I settled into the ‘dealer’s zone’ and waited for the line-up to come out…Table 22. Ugh! A dead spread. Sounds hideous doesn’t it…like you’re spreading dead on a piece of white, anemic bread, mixing it with other dead things like meat, stuffing it together into a sandwich…and you’re going to like it! What kind of bottle or packaging would it come in? Who would make it? Alright – my imagination is done running away with me and I’m back to reality. A dead spread is simply a table that has the lid off the box, no game, and a dealer sits there for a half hour before getting pushed to the next table.

I followed Ben in the line-up. Some of you may know him as the dealer that has the perpetual smile on his face. I’ve only seen him frown once. He was born with the smile on his face and it really must take a lot of effort for him to frown. He’s an easy follow. I’ve really only had one issue with him and that was in a $15-30 game in which I was in the player’s seat. The 1s in that game was a young, could be attractive but she’s too tense and angry to let a personality show through, and she had taken a couple of beats. She continued to loft her hand into the air each time she folded, and it was never towards the muck. Once she threw her cards across the table, into the 5s’s cards (he had a chip on them to protect them), and she didn’t even act like she cared one way or the other. Things weren’t going her way and she wanted to kick the guts out of the rest of the world for breathing air. The issue with Ben, he never said a word to her. He looked at me and rolled his eyes. Kee-rist!

So…the night went like this: $15-30 H. The 1s has played cards with me a few times in the $15-30, he won a pot, and tipped me, as he said, “I have to make sure you have enough money to get back into the player’s seat.”

I laughed. What else can I do here? Everyone thinks I’m busted or I wouldn’t be dealing.

Then I was on break.

Hit another $15-30 H game. It was a bunch of insaniacs slamming chips into the pot trying to beat the 9s and he reciprocated by slamming chips back into the pot and then stacking them up for the next onslaught. I knew the 2 and the 8s in this game. All the rest of them were new faces. The 2s said he’d been reading here and he really didn’t mean anything by calling me a ‘drunken dealer’. I told him that after I thought about it for a bit, I knew he didn’t. He’s a long term player and I’ve known him since the Mirage days when he used to visit Vegas and play poker. He’s a Vegas-ite and has been for a long time…one of the nicest people around the planet, Jim.

Yippee! Another dead spread.

The next game was $30-60H. Lots of ramble-gamble going on there. Lance was in the 8s. On his Button, he said, “You never deal me a winning hand, just deal me out!” as he tried to feign anger and looked up at the ceiling. *bust out laughing*

Jean was in the 9s – she opened Bellagio with us – as a list person. Now she just plays.

Linda B. was in the 10s (after several seat changes) and she opened the Mirage with us and also dealt at Bellagio for a short time period some years ago. I can never see Linda but what I think of the guy she married that used to play at the Mirage (I believe they’ve been divorced for years). The guy’s name is Eddie. He played $20-40 Stud and was a total asshole. We always referred to him as ‘Killer Eddie’ because he shot and killed a young kid on the Strip one night over a lane change – I believe that was about two years after the Mirage opened. Killer Eddie claimed his life was threatened and apparently was cleared of any charges. If you ever dealt to him, you would know that killing is an instinct with him. Let me get back to the future lest the thought of Killer Eddie cloud my day.

And speaking of Stud games, my next game was $20-40 Stud. The 3s in this game is always on edge, cranky, shorts too tight or some such nonsense and he can’t take a beat. He also can’t stand to sit through four or five ‘bad hands’ in which he can’t get involved in the action. He also can’t stand to be low card. All of those things add to his inner turmoil and he has to explode at some point. I’ve dealt to him a lot of times, even had him sit next to me in a Holdem game and show me his cards and try to be funning and joking. *puke*

Barb was in the 4s. She comes into town about four to five times a year, from the South, and I used to deal to her in Gulfport. I love her. She’s always friendly, upbeat, happy to see me, has to say hello and ask about my son, Dan. And she’s the perfect straight person when someone tries to give me shit as I’m dealing. She’s on my side, no holds barred, never backs down to anyone, and I love her for it!

The game was a rocker. The 3s was starting to get the ‘my eyes are going to blow out of my face if I don’t win a pot look’ and it didn’t take long before he lost a hand. He picked up his cards, threw them, and since I always has her hands up off the table, they slammed into the rack, two of them hit the drop slot under my right elbow, and one of them slid right off onto the floor. Of course, he did a ‘…sorry,’ kind of thing but he wasn’t even close to being sorry.

The 8s picked up the ‘downed’ card; I pulled the deck together, and started to count it down.

The 3s said, “You don’t have to count the deck, the machine does it.”

I stopped counting long enough to give him the ‘talk to the hand’ gesture as I put my right hand up in ‘stop’ mode and at the same time I did it, Barb did the same motion to him too! *seal my lips to keep from laughing my ass off*

He repeated, “You don’t have to count the deck. The machine does it.”

I replied, “It’s policy.”

He snorted, “It’s Linda’s policy. No one else does it.”

I calmly said, “I’m just doing my job. If you want, I will call the floor person for a decision.”

He said, “You’re just slowing the game down by counting the deck.”

As I cut and picked up the deck to deal, I looked directly at him, “You throw the cards on the floor, I count the deck down.”

Barb winked at me.

He won three or four pots after that and stiffed me. But that’s what I expected. And always remember this – there are some people I never want to say ‘thank you’ too. I prefer it this way.

My next game was so much fun; I could have stayed there all night. It was a lively little, trash talking, chip jamming, bunch of happy poker players. The 5s won a huge pot with A-A. He made four of a kind. He immediately stated that he was sure I was the best dealer in the room. His name? Walton! After the next few hands, I had him convinced I was the best dealer in the world. He picked up A-A again and got the hand snapped this time – he also did NOT raise pre-flop but the way the hand came down, it didn’t matter…he would have lost anyway to K-JD. She was never throwing the hand away pre-flop and on the flop she had a four flush.

Doyle Brunson, Jennifer Harman, David Benyamine, Eli Elezra, Daniel Negreanu, and more were in Bobby’s Room. Everyone in this game were all thrilled that these people were there playing and wanted to know the limit. I said it was probably $4,000-8,000.

The 3s was really cute, he said, “…someday he would play with them.” Sweet! I hope he realizes his dream.

David Williams was in front of Bobby’s Room signing autographs and getting his picture taken with a variety of people milling around him. Ahhhh…fame!

Everyone at this table? They were all wonderful. I had so much fun laughing my way through the down that I really hated to move on. See $4-8 really can’t be beat…especially from the dealer’s seat.