*Ring…ring…ring* “Hello, Whiner Hot Line, this is Billy Bellyacher, can I help you?”
“I’m sick to death of people I work with.”
“What are you doing to make that happen?”
“Listen Billy, this isn’t about me. It’s about THEM!” *rasping breath*
“Ok…ok…just calm down. Who is this?”
“Wendy.” *breathing slowly evens out*
“Oh…Wendy…is your last name Whiner?”
“Yes…don’t make an issue of my last name…or I’ll…I’ll,” *voice rises*
“Jeez, Wendy, calm down. Just take a deep breath. I just wanted to affirm what your last name was,” *voice trails off* “…not because we don’t have a log on you a mile long…” *voice ends in a whisper*
“WHAT? What did you say?”
“Uh…nothing. Nothing, Wendy. Just clearing my throat. Tell me what’s going on today.”
“Well, it’s these people at work…you see…they just can’t do their jobs the way it should be done…and it’s making me crazy.”
“Ok, start from the beginning.”
“I deal poker for a living.”
“OH MY GOD! You really do have a lot to tell. I’ve heard about those ‘poker people’. Have you dealt to Johnny Chan and Doyle Brunson and Phil Ivey and Jennifer Harmon…”
“HEY! This is about me. Not about them. SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LISTEN!!” *voice reaches hysterical pitch*
“Wendy…you know the rules. We don’t have to put up with profanity from you. Either you settle down or I’ll end the call.”
“Ohhhhh, it’s so hard to get along with anyone…but please don’t hang up on me.”
“Alright…just take a deep breath and tell me what’s wrong with you.”
“How much time do you have Billy?”
*silence*
“Billy…are you still there?”
“Well…don’t tell me everything that’s wrong with you, just give me the basics of why you’re here today.”
“Ok, it went like this. I sat down at a new $4-8 holdem table that was just cranking up.”
“What’s $4-8 mean?”
“Hey, it’s not about the limit, it’s about the people I work with, butt out!”
“Well, you said you were a dealer.”
“Yeah…but I was a player in this game.”
“Wait a minute…you’re a dealer…but you can play too?”
“Billy, if you keep interrupting me, you’re going to use all of my call time with your stupid questions. Don’t you ever watch TV for crap’s sake? Haven’t you dreamed of winning the WSOP? Don’t you know who Vince Van Patten and Mike Sexton are? Get into the real world. You could be the next star on the WPT if you play your cards right.” *derisive laughter* “That was a pun, Billy. You really are out to lunch, hidden away in your little cubicle just waiting for the phone to ring so you can get a glimpse of the insanity going on out there.”
“GET OFF ME! This is about you, remember?” *voice is harsh*
“Ok…ok…just calm down. Take a deep breath, Billy.”
*silence*
“Are you there, Billy?
“Yes. But if you do that again, I’m outa here.”
“Ok…let me start with just what happened tonight and I’ll leave the rest of it alone. Will that be ok?”
“Sure…sorry I blew up.”
“Well, I sat down, as a player, in a game that was just starting. There were two lock ups and seven live players.”
“Lock ups? Is there a jail there? And are the other players dead or what?”
“Kee-rist! BILLY! Go find a poker game, watch it on TV or read a book about it. YOU ARE MAKING ME CRAZY WITH YOUR STUPID QUESTIONS.”
*phone goes dead*
“Freak! Crap ball! Tard! No poker playing bastard! How can they even have someone like that on duty at the Whiner Hot Line? I’ll get that creep tomorrow; I’m calling back after work tonight! Someone there must know about poker!!”
*throws phone onto the floor and goes to shower*
Wendy – lost in Whiner Land:
