What is the game?

Before I head across the valley to work, I want to point everyone in the direction of a great article that was published today on PWorks. Why are you playing the game? Or is the game playing you? Take a reading and put some thought into it.

Plans went Kaput!

I thought I’d achieve all kinds of wonderful things on my two days off. Not even close. First of all, my stomach had a mind of its own and I spent most of the weekend sleeping off a touch of something. God knows what that something was because I sure as hell don’t. I didn’t go anywhere or do anything. I have no pearls of wisdom to splash across these pages and no thought that’s witty or humorous so I leave it at that. Perhaps I’ll accomplish something later today and be back armed with a fierce tone before I head for the time clock. G’nite all.

Sam Angel

Sam has left us. He won’t be missed by me because I never had the opportunity or desire to search through his harsh verbal assaults to look for a soul. The article reports that he had no known survivors. That can’t even be close to true, the whole damned poker world is out there, some of us as tribute that we did survive him. If you are a poker player, someone, somewhere, always remembers you and survives you. RIP Sam.

The Line Police

That’s me. Although there’s a written demand from management, hanging on the wall in the office right beside the time clock, informing all dealers to enforce the betting line rule in NLH and Tournaments, I continually hear that I’m the only one that enforces the rule. I know I’m not the only one but there are probably quite a few dealers that don’t. Continue reading The Line Police

“I work here.”

Sort through the endless possibilities of thoughts that run through the average human’s mind in a five minute time span, put them together in a poker table environment, mix in poker hands and whip until volatile, throw in mass amounts of chips for effect, add one dealer (that would be me), heat with a blow torch until the mix explodes, and that’s how I felt my night went. Continue reading “I work here.”

Return of the Rudes

Of course I got to deal to Karate Don again. Somewhere in a dark cave, buried in the bowels of Death Mountain, there’s a stone tablet that contains certain rules of dealing. The first one is: Thou shalt deal repeatedly and continuously, night after night folding into countless eons of bad experiences to the same player that you had a problem with the night before, on into time eternal. Continue reading Return of the Rudes

The journey home

One of our long time co-workers passed away a week ago. Pearl had worked with us for years and I had very little contact with her over the last five or six years as she worked day shift. We’ve lost a few since Bellagio opened and even though we all understand and know death, it never feels good to me – even if they’ve been ill for quite some time, I find it difficult to say it’s a blessing. Perhaps it is, but that’s all from individual perspective. Continue reading The journey home