New day, same agony

I still can’t think of one time during the last Grand Prix at the Golden Nugget in 1987 that felt good, upbeat, happy, warm, or comfortable in the three weeks I dealt through it.  I know a big part of the problem was me.  If I had been comfortable dealing those games it would have been much easier, as it was, I hacked myself to pieces in rewind every chance I got because I felt horribly inadequate for the job. Continue reading New day, same agony →

Dealing, Dealing, Dealing, Keep Those Dealers Dealing…

Of course the majority of the three weeks of the Grand Prix Tournament blended into one shift nightmare after another – probably best described as one long, square needle to the frontal lobe. We had a short meet before each shift to get our line-up set and if anything new was in the works we were informed about it then.  I don’t remember crap about anything new coming up.  Some dealers quit, new ones came in, and on it went.

Continue reading Dealing, Dealing, Dealing, Keep Those Dealers Dealing… →

Dealing the last Grand Prix at the Golden Nugget

My life was on a roller coaster ride straight into hell and the fiery inferno picked up a wicked smile each time the car I was in hit an all time low.  My relationship with Rod was as sick as it could get, and for some reason, I tightened up the seat belt and hung around for the ride. In retrospect, I could never be where I am today if I had cut the seat belt loose and dove through the window to the light. Continue reading Dealing the last Grand Prix at the Golden Nugget →