Every night since I returned from the Emerald City, two games have been running on my shift in Bobby’s Room. Missed them…not as in I felt bad because I didn’t get to deal them.

I had a query from a $4-8 H player last night, “How high a limit do you play here, $300-600?”

I did my best dead pan, “Any limit you want to play, someone will play with you.”

“Really???” came from around the table.

Then we had to do ‘how high a limit have you dealt’ and we were off and running. I gave them a teensy background of the Beal/Corporation Game; explained that the corporation pooled their cash and they played Andy one at a time. They were completely and totally awed by the thought of a $100,000-$200,000 game. The original questioner sarcastically blurted, “Yeah, one blind is the cost of my house.”

Several players did a guffaw/noise/throat clearing and I said, “Yes. It’s obscene. But that’s the way it is.”

*NOTE – a limit being obscene is not a judgment on my part. Everyone has their own wrinkle and perspective/priority on what it takes to make things work for them.*

They asked me questions, I answered some of them. Who was my favorite player to deal to? What was the biggest pot I ever pushed? And on and on and on. I left them laughing and they did the same for me. Fun group!

I was totally exhausted by the time I hit the end of my shift. Since our remodel, our newest tables are bigger and there’s no dealer cut out. I literally cannot reach the chips in front of the 3 and 7s – or the cards for that matter. Of course the players in those seats always set their bets out two inches from their fingers. Go figure! The Shuffle Master in some of our tables is indented so far into the table (not Shuffle Master’s fault) that it creates a lip which seems to trap cards and chips. Extra time is spent trying to pull/push cards and chips over that lip. It all adds up to irritation and exhaustion for me and most of the dealers. Plus some sections of the room are like an oven, especially up on ‘the hill’ with the beautiful new glass panels that surround it for privacy…no air moves through there. Sum it all up to my butt’s crawling after eight hours.

Andrew – a reader here – looked me up in the room. I dealt to him the first night and managed a short visit with him on a break last night. He’s on a LOA from his job and planning on spending a month in Sin City. More time to visit coming up.

I dealt an $8-16 H game on Tuesday night with a smiling, happy face in the 8s. When I sat down, he informed me that everyone was really grouchy there. He beamed and smiled through my down and by the time I left, I think most of them were ‘ungrouchy’. He found me between pushes last night and told me his name is Chris and he reads here too. KEWL!

I have a possible early a.m. hike on the agenda for Friday…right after work…with the Patterson Brothers and their Mom – Mom’s visiting from out of town. Calico Basin is my pick, easy to get to, beautiful area, and the company will be top of the line. Right now it’s shower time and I’m off to the Real World to find more people that read here. 🙂

I discovered Michelob Ultra…dry as hell, low carb, ‘light’ beer. Yummy! Only problem is I want one after I’ve been up a few hours. Now I see people everywhere in the poker room belting them down and I’m just dealing away with a dry mouth. Sheee-it! I tapped a dealer out of a $4-8 H game and while waiting for him to finish the hand, the 2s looked up at me. She was drinking none other than an ‘ultra’. I said, “Hey, my favorite beer.”

She replied, “No thanks. I’m good.”

Umnhhhh! Maybe she had one too many. Or I looked like the cocktail waitresses. NOT!

In an $80-160 game…mass action, one player all-in, I start to pull the bets for the side pot around and into the side pot and the player in the 6s grabbed the side pot and pulled it toward his chips with, “I’ll help you by getting this out of your way.”

He really meant it. I was flabbergasted as he pushed it back into its original spot. I replied, “I really don’t want your hands on the pot.”

“I was only trying to help.”

Me, “Still…you can’t touch the pot.”

He’s a player, been around, not a regular but someone that comes in at tournament time. Honestly what was he thinking? He couldn’t have been thinking…that’s one of the biggest sins of all time, a player putting their hands in/on the pot.

*****

I deal for weeks without getting involved in the conversation or opening my mouth other than directing traffic and then I go off the wall and out of line with too much talk and smart ass noise. A $15-30 H game and I went into Super Lip Mode. As I came around with the second down card, the 9s had a 4-H laying face up in front of him. I did not see the card flip or flash when I dealt it. I asked, “Did I expose that card?”

He replied, “It hit my hand and turned up.”

The 10s sided with the 9s’s comment and my mouth went into gear before my brain was prepared to stop it, “Then keep your damn hands out of the way,” as I gave him a replacement card.

I started laughing. The 10s was chuckling as he said he’d never heard a dealer do that before. The 9s knew I was kidding and he took it quite well. I have always wanted to say that to a player and it just popped out of my mouth. But why did I say it? Is there some latent childhood freak show running through my brain that manifests itself in ‘smart ass mode’ when I’m supposed to be serious and professional?

I did it again a few hours later. Another $15-30 H game. A woman I’ve dealt to infrequently over the years took the 10s. She’s got the laid back, real world, lusty kind of look about her and I know she’s not offended by too much of anything…otherwise I think I could have hit the brake on my mouth and truly concentrated on being a professional. The rest of the game was a group of guys that were jabbing each other, flinging chips, table talking, and in general just gee-hawing. The boys on the right hand side of the table kept drop kicking me into the conversation – even if I tried to stay out it, it wasn’t going to work. Each pot was max raked and I always put an extra five blue chips in the pot instead of shipping it to the winner with one blue in it, it has six. Pretty standard.

The 9s, a frisky looking kid, asked, “Linda, are you putting extra blues in each pot? Do you want bigger tips?”

Woops…mouth brake failure alert!!!! I instantly queried, “Did you say bigger tits or bigger tips?”

The table went nutz-z-z. The 10s busted up and said, “If she doesn’t get bigger tips, she can’t afford bigger tits!”

They were a lot of fun. On to the rest of the night. I spent most of it laughing my ass off. I don’t know why. I hadn’t taken any drugs or giggle juice…just on a high that can only be found without looking for it…high on life.

Everything appeared to be as I left it…the poker room that is. There were people milling everywhere – and yes, some of them were the same people that were there when I left almost two weeks ago. I liked my start in the line-up, Table 16, which meant I should be dealing all the fun games and never have to shift too many gears during the night. It was a little strange to try and concentrate on the action and pay attention after not having to focus on too many things during my vacation (other than shopping, where we were going next, and how much slop I was going to pour down my throat from the fast food places).

Table 16 was a short handed Must-Must Move $80-160. The first thing I got was an argument about taking Time. I called the Floor. They had to pay it because they’d already been allowed a Time pass once before.

The 8s was a bit of a jerk. I’m not sure how much of him I’ve seen previously but he strikes some kind of bell in the caverns of my gray matter and now I won’t forget him. He’s cemented himself in the ‘I’m unhappy and I want you to be too’ category – damn high up on the list. He has a lot of ink on his arms – either the work is brand new or he keeps his arms shaved to show it off. Not sure which and really don’t care. Of course he’s not supposed to lose…he’s a player. I have a love/hate relationship with these players…hate to deal to them, love to play with them. Hello Tilt-o-rama!

I won’t go into the review of playing short vs. playing a full table – I’m not in the poker lesson business so let me just get right into Ink and his twisted view of poker. The game got shorter as players were called to the Must Move $80-160. He slammed through a couple of hands and lost, making comments about that’s how someone knocked him out of a tournament…by getting lucky, blah, blah, blah.

The 5s was new to me – he came to play and he won the hands Ink lost. A new player took the 2s. After another player shuffled in and someone else got called to move, the 2s decided to take a Missed Blind Button and, “Let me check out what’s going on here.”

At the same time, Ink was losing another pot to the 5s. Ink steamed, “Yeah, let me check out what’s going on here too. Give me an out button!”

Funny because he was the Button. Ink took a walk and stood around staring at the players in the game. The two players still seated were chuckling over Ink’s attitude. Another player came in, one got called to move and Ink returned to glare at the world. The 5s asked if they could play three handed; Ink gave him a lecture – basically stating the 5s was an idiot and he must not get enough poker where he lived or he wouldn’t be dying to play. Ink got called to the Must Move game and another player came in. The three remaining players slammed a lot of chips into the pot before I got pushed. Not to worry…I got to deal to Ink again later in my shift.

About an hour later I hit a seven handed $4-8 H game in which one hand was pretty damned amazing. The play of the hand was total jam, max raises, everyone was slamming and due to the fact that low limit games are mostly new players, I really thought someone had spiked a straight when all the raises went in on the Turn (just like the raises did pre-flop and on the flop). The Flop was something like 5-6-3 (might have been a 4 instead of a 5).

The 6s had 3-3 but turned into a caller right away, even after flopping a set. The 8s had Q-Q and almost folded, made comments about it, but his hand just kept throwing chips in the pot…that’s my definition of a bad hand. One that doesn’t listen to your brain and just keeps throwing away your chips.

The 1s had J-J and he didn’t say a word as his hand threw chips in the pot…as a matter of fact, he put in some of the raises on all streets.

The 5s had 8-8. Bingo…8 on the Turn! The whole thing seriously looked like a straight now as the 5s had been in the BB. He got the cap in on the raises. The River brought another middle card that would make it appear even more dangerous for all the hands but the 5s slammed out a bet like he couldn’t be beat. Obviously he was right…he stacked a huge pot as he got called in three places.

While I was dealing this game, Lemlem (one of our dealers), came around and told me the guy in the 9s on Table 36 was looking for me. I was on a break table so I looked him up when I got pushed. Turns out both he and the 10s are readers here. Sweet! The 9s’s named is Colbert, the 10s’s name is Gene. I visited briefly, went for a cup of coffee and returned to visit with them a little more. Colbert is from Ohio (transplant) and plays mostly online poker there. Gene is from New York – underground games and one them got busted last week.

They both generously handed me chips for my ‘server fees’ because they like my brain explosions on Tango. I almost felt embarrassed to take the chips but who am I to turn down money. I like the fact that they like what I write. We did visit a bit about online poker and bots. Agreeing that collusion is possible but not as productive for cheaters in lower limits…that’s where I play, lower limits. And that bots are possible and do exist but that all online sites are always searching for ways to clean up the games for the honest players. I like these guys and their thoughts. They were settled in $2-5 NLH and promised they’d check back in during the week to say ‘hi’. Sure hope so.

A few hours later I hit the Must Move $80-160. Ink was in the 7s. Still glaring and feeling put out by the fact that the other players didn’t just write him a check so he wouldn’t have to battle for their money – anyway that’s my take on his POV.

This game was really active when I first sat down. The 2s went all-in with 6-2 of Clubs…capped pre-flop with six or seven way action. The 9s held A-6 of Spades. Two sixes on the Flop – one Club – mass action.

The Turn – a Club – is where the 2s ended up all-in. That pot had over $2,000 in it. When the smoke cleared, the 9s won a pot that had about $700 in it because a Club appeared on the River, giving the 2s a flush. Hello lottery!

Ink had ordered food. We have a new chip runner that is so small and cute, really quiet with a shy smile, and never seems to lose that smile. Her name is Nan and I don’t believe she understands or speaks English well but then I’ve never sat and visited with her…I could be wrong. But she has the innocent look of a small child visiting Disney Land and wondering what it’s really all about. When Nan walked up with Ink’s food and held the box out to him, he snapped, “Get a Table…GIVE IT TO THE FLOORMAN!” as he waved over his shoulder at Skip.

He didn’t give her the courtesy of even being a human or able to comprehend life in general. Nan did as told. After Ink settled in and started shoveling chow, he barely looked up long enough to look at his hand and fold. He won some pots…still unhappy. A cocktail waitress walked by with a full tray, he snapped at her, “I want two waters.”

She replied, “I’m not your server but she’ll be along shortly.”

He glared at the players at the table and barked, “They are always in your face when you don’t want them around.”

A hand later, I saw a cocktail server come off of the high limit section, behind Ink’s back. “Honey, are you are waitress?”

She nodded yes. I opened my hand to Ink and said, “He’d like something.”

He acted like she was a flea, barely looking over his should at her, “Two waters.”

He was still shoveling food. She sat down one water and reached to her tray for the second one. He barked, “TWO waters!”

As she sat the second one down, she said, “One…..two.”

He gave her a buck but never acknowledged anything…and that’s the only tip I saw him give during both of my dealing sessions. The first cocktail waitress that he had asked for water even returned and asked him if he had been taken care of. No thank you, kiss my ass, or go to hell came out of his lips. But he did nod. Sheesh! Poor guy! It must be hell living in there.

*****

Two games running in Bobby’s Room: $2,000-4,000 Omaha 8/b and PLO $300-600; $1,000-2,000 HORSE and Deuce to 7 Triple Draw. I missed them both…yippee! Players in attendance throughout the night, that I saw as I waltzed by: Sammy F., Doyle, Chau, Jennifer, Johnny C., Jeff L., Minh, and a variety of others but I didn’t stand and stare at the game.

John H. AKA Johnny World, Huck S., and more ‘name brands’ were playing the room in other games.

Gee…it’s good to be back home again!

I need to keep repeating this for myself…over and over…until it’s cemented into my brain – never, NEVER, click on a link out of email or another program while I’ve got an active post going here. Shee-it! Once again I’ve lost the whole damn post and have to start over…arghhhh! Back to the beginning:

Welcome to Oz was spinning through my thoughts and disrupting my lifestyle over the last ten days. I didn’t have to click my heels or wear rose colored glasses to visit the Emerald City, all I had to do was bring Jasmine and Kayanna home with me for a week. The fantasy is nonstop, shop ’til you drop – malls, Walmart, swap meet – rent movies, more shop ’til you drop, fast food ‘food sluts’, food shopping, cooking, computer games, shoes and clothes strewn throughout the house, continual sound – music, tv, conversations – and slamming more food down my throat than the law allows…throw in a few beers for me (off the wine kick for awhile…must be the summer heat).

We did manage a hike at Red Rock Canyon. We tripped through The Lost Creek Trail and The Children’s Discovery Trail. When I hit The Lost Creek Trail with Wayne a few months ago, it was filled with water and a 100 foot waterfall adorned the cliff. The only thing showing resembling water now was a light sheen on the face of the rock at the top. Summer has arrived.

I find myself continuously laughing over our 4X trip up into Little Red Rock. Little Red Rock sits to the right, about five to six miles up above the Summerlin explosion, as you journey up Charleston towards Calico Basin and Red Rock Canyon. It’s all dirt bike and 4X terrain. As we jumped onto the rutted, rocky, bumpy trail, complemented with “Oooohhhhs – Ahhhhhhh” by the girls, Jasmine said that she would be afraid to drive my truck on ‘this stuff’ if it were her.

I laughed, “It’s a 4X drive. That’s what they’re made for. I bought it for a lot of reasons and this is one of them.”

She continued, “Aren’t you worried about the tires?”

“Nope, they’re made for this kind of terrain.”

“Yeah…but what if you pop one of them?”

I was laughing even harder now. “These tires are made for this. That’s why they are called 4X wheel drives. And if I did pop one of the tires, I have another one under the bed.”

Kayanna chimed in, “Yeah Grandma, but we aren’t at your house.”

*laughing to the nth*

Saturday morning found me taking Kayanna to the airport and dropping Jasmine at the mall for more shopping. Kayanna is an unaccompanied minor and I would be the only one with a pass to get through security and see her safely onto the plane so Jasmine’s time would be better spent at the mall. Kayanna went home to mom and I managed to get through it without a tear. I’m sure it’s because she’ll be back in August, a few months away, to make the yearly sojourn to N. Idaho for the family reunion/camp out…if she wasn’t coming back for a year, I believe I’d have gone into dehydration mode from leaking eyes after she hit the plane. I seriously try not to slobber and blubber while she’s in my presence because I want our time to be really good, not her thinking of my distress.

The beautiful Jasmine left this morning. She’s so kewl. Ready to get on with her life, just young enough to be a lot of fun to hang with and just old enough to get around on her own and take care of her life.

On the strange and unexpected events that happen in life – it’s 6 a.m., we’re standing in the ‘Que’ – next in line to be called by an Allegiant Air clerk – and Roy Cooke walked right by us. I stopped him for a moment and introduced him to Jasmine. He was heading for Montreal. I used to deal to him a lot but haven’t now in a long time. He apparently frequents Bellagio on weekends but I’m off so that explains that.

While I would never give up the time I had to spend with these girls, I’m really glad to have my own little space back. Living alone allows one a lot of privileges and space. I like it. Perhaps that’s the true definition of being selfish. But I look at it this way, living alone allows me to choose the people I want to spend time with…I pick the best. 🙂

*****

A sad note, received an email from Jason Kirk and our first place finisher of the March Clan Jam, Charlie is having a bad run of health. Jason’s blog is listed on the Blog page here under Catching the Antichrist. Thoughts and prayers for Charlie.

*****

Tomorrow night I leave Oz to return to the real world. While I was drifting through The Emerald City, The World Series of Poker began at the Rio, the Poker Bloggers got together for a tournament in Vegas, and I’m sure a zillion poker hands were dealt and played out throughout the world. Hello Bellagio…I’m coming back.

*****

Please come to the Poker Forum, register, start a topic or add to one that’s already there, and share your thoughts. No spammers – PLEASE!!!!

The weather in Montana changed to sunshine, perfect temperature, on the morning of graduation. One of my great nephews, Tyler, graduated with Jasmine. Three highschools, around 300 seniors in each, three different time schedules, graduated from the Adams Center Field House at the University of Montana. A mass of bodies, some clad in graduation togs, joined together to celebrate life and the future…my little group of family met, hugged, and joined with the mass. I escaped the need to cry but have to admit that my eyes misted for so long a few times I thought they were going to run over.

We arrived back in the desert on Sunday, shortly after noon. It was so nice to be home. Great to travel, great to come home. Nothing is better than my own little space, tucked quietly away from the rest of the world…and my bed! God! If I could just take my bed with me when I go somewhere. Now my schedule has kind of drifted to a daytime thing…eyes open before non…moving around in daylight hours and sleep somewhere between 10 p.m. and 2 a.m. Next week will send me back to the vampire schedule…the girls go home this weekend and I go back to work next Monday.

On the poker scene, the poker bloggers had a tournament here in Vegas while I was in Montana. Wish I could have been there but next time…

Before I left town, I dealt $20-40 7 Card Stud that had me in stitches. Kim AKA The Dragon Lady was in the 5s. Gus (more than one post on him) was in the 4s. Jeff (The General) was in the 8s but walking. The 7s was a familiar face but infrequent player and running over the game. The 1, 2, and 3s were all new faces.

Gus was doing his usual glare – mainly at the world and the other players, not so much the dealer. When I sat down, he asked me to just do a mini-scramble – followed by “…if you don’t mind,” but I missed that part of it. Gus has an accent and sometimes it’s hard to follow what he’s saying. I did the mini-scramble on the first hand, thinking that was what his request was.

The 1s lofted his cards into the air about the 3rd hand I dealt and they lit right on my hands. I hate it!!!! No they didn’t hurt, but it’s the idea. I said, “I don’t drop your cards onto your hands, please don’t drop them on mine.”

He went into a, “Right! I sliced your hands with those cards….blah, blah, blah.”

I started laughing. He was being sarcastically mean with his tone and I wasn’t going to war with him. I was prepared to call the floor if it happened again. It didn’t.

Kim was glaring when I sat down…it got worse.

The 7s mopped up the game and stacked all the chips. About the 10th hand he won, I did a min-scramble…for no reason…just a reflex I guess because it’s still a little strange to have Shuffle Masters on every table. Gus went off on me. “Now she decide to do a scramble?” waving his arms in the air.

Kim jumped on his bandwagon, making some comment about it.

I told him I didn’t realize that he wanted one every hand. Kim rolled her eyes. Still waving his arms, Gus growled, “Never argue with the dealer. Dealer is always right!”

I exclaimed, “Unnecessary!”

The 1s told Gus to stop, he couldn’t stand the stress because he had a weak stomach. Gus’s comment to the 1s was rude and short. The 1s replied, “I will throw up if you don’t stop.”

Later on though, the 1s forced every issue he could with Gus. Continuing to needle Gus when Gus asked the 1s to leave him alone. Kim was going into a twitch and jerk mode – she was low and glared the hating eye roll at me as she waved her hand at me!

By now I was getting into the ‘fruit loop’ mode that the players were in. I waved my right hand up into the air, looked at Kim, and asked, “What does that mean?”

Now…you must keep in mind that Kim and I have HISTORY! I refuse to be affected by her personal moods and player modes and in general, I laugh at her and she takes it pretty well…and usually starts laughing with me…if you can call the little eye glimmer and small mouth twitch the beginning of laughter. She softens up no matter how you cut it and how hard she tries to be mad, I can usually put out the dragon’s fire.

So…she glared at me, “You make me fucking low every time.”

I blurted, “I do not make you F-king low every time, just every fourth or fifth hand.”

She almost smiled.

I got pushed a few hands later, she was waving her hand in the air at me again. I said, “Hey…I’m going to the table right behind you, get on the list.”

She snorted, “I fucking kill you.”

I laughed, “You don’t kill grandmas.”

She snarled, “You aren’t a grandma.”

I walked around behind her, put my arm around her neck in a hug, and pulled her head next to mine…still laughing.

She was laughing by now, telling me to get the hell away from her.

About 20 minutes after I left that game, the Supervisor was called to settle a dispute. Somehow, someway, the 1s was heads-up with another player in a big pot and the other player declared a flush at showdown and turned his cards up. The dealer didn’t see it, someone else spotted the fact that there was a club in the spades or whatever the suits were but the 1s had already thrown his hand away. And obviously the 1s had the no pair, no flush hand beat but it was too late. The players ended up splitting the pot. It could have been much worse for the 1s for throwing his hand away without making sure he was beat.

What a playground! I tell people I’m only there for the insurance…

It’s raining, it’s pouring, the old man is snoring…not quite. It is raining and has been a steady sprinkle since we hit town yesterday a.m. That means it’s a lot cooler than the normal temperature I’m used to in Vegas – Montana ain’t even close to the desert climate and landscape.

Spending a few hours in a small home with eight kids, all eight or under, could be classed as a form of child abuse – the adults can barely take it – the senses reel with the noise and the kaleidoscoping body parts as they all join in a game of hide and seek, or wrestling, or dog role playing. Dog role playing? I started that with Kayanna before she moved away to MO three years ago. Her dog name is Pleshette and her cousin Robert’s dog name is Francois. Imagine watching six kids nip, bark, yip, paw the air, and traipse through the limited space in the house on their hands and knees, each trying to outrun the pack or be heard over the noise.

Being back in ‘kidland’ is heartwarming and a nice experience but not something I yearn for and could do fulltime. Now if I had a few more days with the older ones, I could teach them how to play poker…

The fair and beautiful Jasmine of Missoula graduates from highschool tomorrow. I’m thinking I need a handful of kleenex because my eyes may just keep dripping like the Montana skies. Damn! I’m just too emotional sometimes.

The poker scene when I hit my last night of work before vacation: The room was fairly quiet when I arrived around 6 p.m. I took a seat in a $4-8 game and managed to eke out a few $$ win before clocking in and dealing. Dealing? I signed the E/O-Play list and was out to play without having dealt a hand. I played for almost three hours before I got picked up – I was stuck.

I was picked up to start a three handed $300-600 LH – $50-100 PLH. Peter, an unknown, and The Grinder. My down was LH and the action in the first ten minutes was unbelievable.

When I hit the next table, $10-20 NLH, someone asked me about the game and wanted to know who was winning…how could I tell? The way the chips were slamming into the pot, if one of them was $15,000 winner when I left, he could be $30,000 loser in the next hour.

The dealer I was pushing said something about ‘The Grinder’. It struck me as a statement of awe and I had the thought…lots of times over other players…that people drift into the poker scene and within a short time everyone knows their name, who they are, what they eat for breakfast, who they love, where they live, what they think, and how they play. The majority of those that drift in and become known end up the same way within a few years, they drift out. No one ever hears about them again. One day you find them in a little $4-8 game across town, or they come in to play and tell you they stopped playing for a few years, or they’ve been out of the country. They always come back around but they’re not the same person or player that held the poker world in awe back when.

I can’t help but wonder how many of the new players that are featured in magazines and winning tournaments and playing high limit now will disappear into the dust of those climbing up the steps now.

The Grinder is a perfect name for a player but while you are grinding, you have to have steel encased brass, a heart that won’t explode when your brain blows up because they caught their single out on the River for the 900th time, and a brain that has a self sealing repair feature or you’ll have fragments of gray matter all over the inside of your skull.

Right now I can’t imagine playing poker for a living. But keep in mind I don’t have to and I’m drinking beer, sitting in a hotel, in Missoula, Montana with the gentle whisper of rain and gloomy skies outside. It’s so nice to be happy wherever I am. Damned if I ain’t.

A tale of Two Grizzles with a Jarrod thrown in for the hell-uv-it. Most of the night was as smooth as an oil spill that spreads across water; low limit games, people laughing, and the game of poker.

I hit a $30-60 H game and Jarrod was in the 3s. Yes…multiple posts about him. He’s not a bad kid, he just has a lot to learn about the fine art of war across the green felt…although he thinks he pretty much knows it all.

One hand, Kenny – 2s was the Button, Jarrod – 3s was the SB, the 4s the BB. Kenny raised it pre-flop, Jarrod raised it to $90, the 4s put out $110 and I said, “Raise it…almost,” as I pushed the chips apart and motioned that he needed one more chip for the raise – Kenny was putting in $30 more.

The 4s put in the extra chip and I told Kenny the bet had gone to four bets. Jarrod said the 4s couldn’t be raising because he had put in only one extra chip. Now the 4s said he didn’t want to raise. I stated the raise stood.

Jarrod launched into a full scale argument that it was only one chip, the 10s backed me up and said it was two chips, and then Jarrod asked Kenny and the 4s if they minded if it was only $90 to go. They both said they didn’t care.

I stood firm; it was a raise. Jarrod wanted to know why I cared, if they didn’t mind, I was the only one objecting. I told him I cared that the game should run the way it was supposed to and I would get a decision. Jarrod argued that we didn’t need a decision, the players didn’t mind, what was wrong with me…why did I care.

I called for a decision, Boba arrived, I explained it to him, Jarrod jumped into it and told Boba the players didn’t care and I was the only one objecting. Boba set him straight (thanks so much, Boba), telling Jarrod that the raise stood, that I was doing my job, and that’s how the game should be ran.

Kenny ended up winning the pot. I got pushed into a $15-30 H and I heard Jarrod paged for $80-160 H which he took. And did I forget to mention that he slammed, pummeled, and jammed with 5 high in one pot in the $30-60 game…he needed a 4 to make a gutshot straight and didn’t hit it…got called down and had to show down. Another one he got caught trying to run over a player with 10 high, and yet another one, he blew off half of his chips with 10-2…which made absolutely nothing…the game was on…Jarrod was the game. Shortly after he left, it broke up.

My next game was in Bobby’s Room. It was falling apart with only Johnny C. and Chau left playing Chinese. They were each playing two hands. I still don’t understand the count and I don’t have to get involved so it doesn’t matter. They pushed huge amounts of chips back and forth, like $36,000 – $24,000 – and on and on, and they were still playing when I got pushed out of that game. It was painless, just deal four stacks until I ran out of cards, push the first hand to the player in front of the button, the second hand to the button, the next hand to the player in front of the button, and the next hand to the button.

Next game…hey…here goes. Jarrod was in the 2s, still jammin’. Sam G. was in the 5s (the 3s was empty) and the table was sprawled out like an eight handed game. Sam was in his usual ‘rare form’. He had a stack of $100 bills, clutched in his hand, and very few chips. The 4s was getting a massage and had some of his chips in racks. Sam obviously thought the 4s was the live one.

Sam raised, the 6s called, Sam asked if he looked yet, the 6s asked if Sam looked yet, Sam replied, “Three times.”

The ‘looked yet’ query went back and forth during my down like a game of pong, batted back and forth for no rhyme or reason because for sure no one was keeping score.

The 4s managed to almost knock over the rack as he pulled chips from it and I asked him if he’d mind taking his chips out of the rack. He said he didn’t mind at all. Sam told him he was slowing down the game. The 4s told Sam that he had to listen to me first and then to Sam. I was laughing.

Sam told him not to listen to me at all. I kept laughing. I looked at Sam and said, “You know I’m hard to get along with.”

Sam informed the 4s, “She’s a warden.”

A few minutes later the sky split open and chips spewed from Jarrod, Sam, and the 6s; the war was on. Giant sized war. The flop brought 8-8-4…I can’t even remember the Turn or the River but they were small cards and Jarrod announced, “Four eights are good. That’s the only hand that’s good,” as he slammed in another raise.

On the River Jarrod checked, Sam checked, the 6s bet and Jarrod hesitated, watching Sam. Sam did it just right, almost…almost acting like he was going to call, then Jarrod fired out $160 for the call, Sam folded and the 6s turned over four eights.

Sam announced that if anyone had told him he would lose $700 in less than an hour in this game, he would have killed himself. I busted out laughing. Sam verbally badgered and tried to maim the grey matter of these people and I just kept dealing. I got tapped out as Sam was telling me to take a hike or something like that, I told him I knew he loved me (defiant bitch that I am) and he mumbled something.

I said, “Hey, don’t be swearing now.”

He said, “I wish you were bungee jumping from Hoover Dam without the Bungee.”

I cracked up. I was on the nuisance break and my last game would be $300-600 Mixed. Don’t worry, when I hit that game, Sam was in 6s. Shaun was in the 7s. They were at war.

When I sat down, Sam did some mumble-jumble…”Oh my God! I can’t believe you’re in this game!” he was referring to me dealing and I just busted out laughing again. I can’t help it! He does all of these antics and makes all of this noise and it’s hysterically funny.

He lit up to my laughing. I told him I was a great dealer. He asked me how I figured. I told him that I ran my game, was courteous and polite, and pushed the pot to the winning hand. He said I dealt like shit! I kept laughing. Then he changed his tune. He informed me that he had changed his mind and he was going to think positive about me. It must have worked, he won almost every pot while I was there.

This down was pretty incredible as far as heat between players. I’ve seen Shaun and Sam go to war before but nothing like this. Sam won a big pot from Shaun in which Shaun had put in a $5,000 chip. Yes…Shaun got his change. A few minutes later, Shaun pointed out the fact that the $5,000 chip had disappeared from the table and he wanted it back in play. Truthfully, it’s hard to tell sometimes if these guys are serious or if they’re just looking to bust someone’s balls…not mine because I don’t have any.

I looked at Shaun and asked, “You want the $5,000 chip back on the table?”

Shaun said yes. Sam made a joke of it, that it must have been stolen…or it just disappeared…or…WTF. Then Sam made sure that he called Shaun an asshole for pointing it out – along with a few other finely tuned adjectives. By now I was sure Shaun didn’t care, he just wanted to point out to the table that it had disappeared.

Sam said that he wasn’t like the rest of them, he wouldn’t go all-in. He was playing behind.

I said, “There’s no playing behind. The chip has to be on the table to be in play.”

Lee was in the 8s. He took up the chant, “Get the floorman,” as he showed a $5,000 chip and in broken English tried to explain how Sam had put it in his pocket.

Jimmy W. was in the 3s, he said he thought that Sam should be allowed to leave the chip in his pocket because ‘someone’ might walk by the game and see the chip in front of Sam and demand payment…the game went on.

Tony was in the 4s and Sam and him did a little ‘tete a tete’ on playing heads up. They did a jabber war, “Get a f-kn’g dealer.” (Not because they were afraid to say fucking, just because they slammed out the word and enunciated it that way) – they slammed the sentence back and forth between each other until I busted out laughing again.

There were a lot more words between Sam and Shaun, and Sam made a lot more noise in telling everyone how he would win a million dollars before the night was over; they all played so bad; he was the best player; and more…but use your imagination here.

When I got tapped out, Sam asked me to come back and deal again. He said, “She’s a really nice person.”

I pointed to myself. He did a mock, “Moi?”

I hit the Time Clock. Two Grizzles and one Jarrod are enough for anyone in a night.

It’s been a 1,000 degrees outside lately…except for today. The wind came back and somehow brought a deliciously cool front with it. Now the air is perfect, it’s dark, early a.m. and the wind has changed to a gentle breeze that dances across my flesh. Wonderful!

I work two days this week, Monday and Tuesday, and I’m off for eight working days – thirteen althogether with weekends. Sweet! My little girlfriend, Miss Kayanna is flying in on Wednesday. On Thursday my family, that lives here in Vegas, and me will hop a flight into Missoula, Montana. We fly back on Sunday. But while we are there, hanging out and kicking back, it’s time to watch my oldest granddaughter, Jasmine, graduate from highschool and begin the journey to the next stage of her life. It’s kind of like finishing a chapter in a book. Nothing ever stays the same, and life is better that way, but…I have a little flutter tug in my heart when I remember her running around my feet at two years old.

I will take my laptop and check in on posts on the Poker forum and email and might even spin off a post or two this week – hey they sleep at night, I don’t. Thank heaven for online poker because Missoula is way out of the real world of poker and I don’t have the heart to try and sit through a session of ‘smokers’ and ‘I’m waiting for A-A before I make a bet’ players.

A laughable…kind of sort of…funny but NOT! Mama-mia-Mary is in the room again. She’s always a delight and I enjoy her cheery smile and smart ass quips and lip at the table. We always get in a short hug, hello, visit, while she’s here with the promise of a hike or something one of these days. She dances between $20-40 Stud and $15-30 H. We said ‘hello’ while I was on a break and she was on her way back to her seat in a $15-30 game.

Enter the other character in the scene. I’ve posted about him before, I don’t know his name…I’ll ask next time I see his glaring face at the table. A little background on him. He’s graduated up to $30-60…from $8-16 to $15-30 to $30-60. He’s never friendly – to anyone. He doesn’t say a word when he plays until he starts losing, then he wants to slam his cards down the table, curse under his breath, and do the glaring eyes thing at the dealer. In one of my posts, I told him to set his cards down – after he’d thrown them at me – he glared at me and left the table. The next time I dealt to him and he threw the cards at me, the whole game was live, laughing and having fun and he was being a BUTT HEAD…he was the only problem with the table. I barked at him. It didn’t go over worth a damn so he walked the rest of my down. Fine! The funniest part of his play is that he’s ‘George’. He’s a great tipper and throws money at the Floor/List people and dealers…not me so much now since I won’t take his heat at the table.

Back to the ‘laughable’. Mary and I had just said ‘hello’, she was heading for her game, a $15-30 H, and her table was right next to ‘his’. He was in the 6s, she was in the 1s. She had to go past his chair to get into her seat (and the tables are still too close together in some parts of the room). She bumped him or had to ask him to move or something…I missed this part.

He grumbled something at her, she turned around – as she was getting ready to sit down – and said something like, “…you grouch old fart.”

He turned to her and said, “Don’t call me names, you fat bitch.”

The war started. I immediately called Carmen…she was right in the vicinity. Carmen went over to talk to both of them. A few minutes later, Pete was called from the office as Carmen had gone in to talk to him. Pete was talking to Mary about ten feet away from both the tables, I was still on break and approached Pete. I told him the grouch had blatantly called Mary a fat bitch. Mary told us both that he had then called Carmen a bitch too…that’s why Carmen summoned Pete. I don’t know what the end result was. The grouch was still playing later and so was Mary. I would guess that Pete talked/warned him about his behavior.

The funny side of it is that it’s like watching a sitcom. The grouch feels that he’s entitled to treat everyone with disrespect, just like an Archie Bunker thing, because he’s playing higher and let’s not leave out the fact that he tips. That has to give him some kind of feeling of superiority that he will not be tossed.

Another funny part of it was Mary didn’t appear to be angry, just more or less in awe of the fact that the grouch has ‘brass’ the size of bowling balls.

The ‘NOT’ funny side of it is that people just shouldn’t treat each other that way…both of them were out of line, Mary for calling him an ‘old fart’ and he for calling her a ‘fat bitch’. And Carmen…all she was doing was her job. Bee-atch! Just kidding!

*****
On last Friday, I donated blood at Bellagio’s Corporate Challenge, hopped into the poker room at 7:15, asked Pete if I had to clock in or could I just leave…I got to go home…I got to go home…nah-nah-nah-nah-nahnah! Perfect!

I called Wayne…buddy extraordinaire…and he took me dining and beat me two out of three games at pool. Rematch coming up…I’m sure I would’ve beat his butt except I got a phone call and had to exit immediately. Next time!

Summer’s finally arrived. It’s too hot to talk about, just the thought of people talking and adding more hot air to the atmosphere is kind of scary. Ever wonder how in the hell they started the first casinos/hotels/establishments here in Vegas…long before air conditioning was a household word? I do. Those people had to be crazy…not only that, there was no bottled water. How the hell did they drink this water? The difference between then and now? Now the heat is at the tables in Bellagio’s poker room. There’s so much action it’s almost unbelievable – and plenty of bottled water but it won’t put out the fire spreading across the green felt. Be there, or be ‘un-kewl’.

A touch on a ‘laughable’. I got put in my place by a $2-5 NLH player last night. He was in the 3s, drinking, new to me but not necessarily new to poker, semi-running over the game with bad hands, and playing almost every hand. One hand, I mucked his cards, they were out into the table when the action came to him pre-flop. He had a fit, he had been talking to the cocktail server and looked back to see he had no cards. He jumped right into my face. I could barely get a word in – even if I tried to pry it in with a lubricated crowbar – and he was off and running.

I told him that I always dealt the cards to the player, I didn’t leave them in the middle of the table, and I took his hand because it appeared that he had looked at it and discarded it. No way that he was going for that. He demanded his cards back. They were already in the muck with other dead hands.

The player in the 4s interjected that the 3s had just won a big pot and his cards were out further in the table because the chips were in the way. (Ok…so I guess he pulled in his chips but failed to pull in his hand and take a look at it).

I apologized.

The 3s barked, “That’s bullshit! Pay attention to the game, dealer.”

I did a mock salute and meekly replied, “Yes, Sir!”

Jason was in the 6s and he was ready to explode with laughter. I went to the next hand, the 3s continued for a moment longer and I quietly said, “Swear to God, I’m going to start laughing if it doesn’t stop.”

Half the table was chuckling by now. There’s just no way to get around a Tin God. Best to ignore the smoke and noise and get right into the next hand. I did.

I’m on my way to Bellagio early today to donate blood for the Corporate Challenge. A very worth while cause no matter what your reason for donating. Take the time to share life with another person in need. Donate blood! You may be the one that needs it someday.

It’s Friday…mine too! Hello E/O list.

Several books are coming out that I’ve been asked to review, the first, The Professor, The Banker, and The Suicide King by Michael Craig is THE book to read if you want information about the biggest limit game ever played. It’s a great read, I recommend it for everyone that wants an insight into high limit poker. (Remember, in order to view a hyperlink – and there is one – you must click on the date/title of this post to bring the post into ‘full view’ and the hyperlink will be live. To return to the page with the ‘categories menu’ just click on “Table Tango” at the top).

The second book is One of a Kind and gives the reader a view of the life of Stuey Ungar. I’m just getting into it and have no review at this time but more later on that…the book is not out yet it either. I have a cold spot in my heart for Stuey…remember I dealt to him…but I won’t let it prejudice my read.

I also received The Poker Pack, for The Girl’s Night Out. It’s a cute, little, pink box filled with everything to start the newbie poker player on their way. Truthfully, the book that comes with ‘the pack’ is the best part of the whole deal and worth the money. Sorry, I don’t have a URL on purchasing it as this was sent to me as a perc, unrequested, but appreciated.

Back to the world I live in….

When my night started, I was thinking how easy it had been to work the room. Everyone was in good spirits, very little going on with player/dealer problems (from my street anyway) and I was getting a kick out of work…love it when it goes that way. But out of nowhere, along comes a hidden tree stump in the wooded glade I was jogging through. BOOM! I went down for the count and ended up shaking my head over all the insanities of the night…the Twilight Zone had hit the poker room.

I hit Table 4, again…what are the odds on that? Same place I started on Monday night, same start on Tuesday night. Hello, High Limit! Table 4 was $400-800 Limit H and $50-100 PLH. The game change was by dealer, my session was Limit Holdem. Three players, the 2s was unknown to me, Peter – 6s, Mimi – 8s. Mimi and Peter were at war in every hand during the first few minutes of my down and she ran over him with cards and stacked a lot of his chips…the hands all went to showdown.

The 2s finally got involved and won a huge pot from Peter. Peter had Q-Q, the 2s had J-2 Suited, flopped deuces and never slowed down…hit a Jack on the River. Peter took it all well…no flinching, card zinging, swearing, or agony, just ‘get the mother on’.

Here’s where it all gets crazy. Lee S. walks up, looks at the game and goes for chips. He returns to take the 1s. David O. was playing on Table 5, he sat down in the 5s on Table 4 to visit with Lee. They were talking real estate and prices in Vegas over the slamming of chips in the game.

The cocktail server came by and took orders.

Peter and the 2s went to war again, amazing raises pre-flop, 6-6-8 on the Flop. More raises. The Turn was a deuce. The raising war barely slowed down. The River hit with a straight card and they put in at least 12 bets. The 2s showed A-A, Peter showed K-K.

David stood up, threw a $5 chip into my hand, apologized, but was asking for change for the cocktail server. I gave it to him. He moved, with his hot coffee that had just been delivered, towards Table 5.

Peter jumped up, with his chips, and ran into David and his coffee, spilling most of it onto David’s hands. David didn’t say anything but it was as if Peter didn’t even know he’d hit someone…he dove into a chair between Lee and the 2s, setting his chips down and posting $400 between the Button and the Blind. Lee had the Button.

Lee asked Peter if he was really going to set there when there was no room for his chair. Peter said yes. I told Mimi it was her big blind. She set it out. I dealt the first three cards and she yelled, “Wait a minute,” and grabbed her blind back.

She wanted to know what was going on. Everyone explained that Peter was posting. She wanted to know if he was buying the Button…no, he’s posting…she set her blind back out and the chip wars went on.

Lee moved to the 4s, pushing his chips across the table while Peter and the 2s were in a raising war. Two of Lee’s chips rolled from his stacks. I threw my hands over the pot to keep any chips from falling into it and managed to grab both escaped chips and return them to Lee, he questioned it though. Nate was standing there and witnessed all of it so thankfully I didn’t have to count the pot down.

They decided to raise the PLH to $100-200 Blind. I notified Nate and got a new limit plaque.

Lee raised the next hand, Peter asked, “How are you, Lee?” as he fired back with a raise.

Lee replied, “Where have you been?” as he reraised.

The game never slowed down. I got pushed.

Table 5 was $400-800 Mixed. The game was semi-active but much easier to deal than Table 4 because everyone was paying attention. Almost the last hand I dealt, John E. returned to the table and started with rolled up 4’s in 7 Stud 8 or Better. He got it beat by 8’s full of Aces. Ugh!!! He thanked me…no he didn’t really mean it…and threw me a tip as he left the table in total disgust. Poker is painful at times.

Just when I hit a game that should have been stress free and fun, I ran into the $2-5 NLH Grinch. The game was playing nine handed, one seat open, and everyone was pretty relaxed and comfy, even though we were playing on a small table. We got our 10th player and I asked the right hand side of the table to shift a tiny bit to make room for the 5s. The 7s refused to move. I asked him to move just one inch. He looked at me and stated that he was fine where he was. I asked him again – he refused.

I told him nothing would happen until he moved over. He sat there.

The 10s was exasperated as hell with the 7s, “You’re slowing down the game.”

Not to worry, the 7s never moved or acted like he even cared if it bothered anyone. I called for a decision. When Dave arrived, I explained the situation. Dave told the 7s to move over. He shifted his butt in his chair but didn’t move.

Dave told the 7s that the dealer ran the game and the dealer didn’t feel the table was square and he needed to move over. The 7s sat there – unmoving. Dave told him to move.

The 7s did an exaggerated move of his chips almost into the 8s’s chips, “What do you want me to do, move here?”

Dave asked the 7s, “Sir, do you want to continue playing poker?”

The light hit somewhere in neanderthal land…he managed to move about two inches, which was all that was needed.

Dave left and the 7s mumbled something, “…hard to get along with.”

I glibly replied, “Yes we are hard to get along with.”

Hello knight in shining armor…the 10s jumped in, “No you are not and I’m going to defend you here,” as he directed his conversation to the 7s. “You were asked to move to make room for a player and you stopped the whole game. You make yourself look like an ass.”

The 7s thought he scored, “I can’t believe you’re letting him call me an ass,” as he glared at me.

I said, “He didn’t call you an ass, he said you are acting like an ass…there’s a difference.”

The 7s took a walk. The whole table was relieved when he was gone and couldn’t believe how obnoxious he was over moving to allow another player to enter the game.

Then I hit $150-300 mixed. David Levi was in the 1s but when I sat down the game changed to Holdem and he pushed a yellow button out and took a walk. I thought David was a new player. When the Blind came around to David, Mark and Mike told me to give him a missed blind button, I did with the explanation that I thought he was a new player. Problems on the horizon, kids…that damn tree stump again.

David returned a few hands later and put out $150. I told him he had to post both blinds. He said he hadn’t taken a hand yet in the Button games and I shouldn’t have given him the missed blind. Ughhh-id-ee Shmughhh-id-ee! I told him the other players told me to. Big lecture here, get the floorman, get a decision, the dealer doesn’t know what to do here…all this from David and I’ve never had a problem with him. He ended by telling me to never let the other players tell me what to do.

Chit Mon! How as I supposed to know his status when I hadn’t been there the last half hour…he had played the ante games but hadn’t taken a hand in a Blind game.

Then Mike and David went to war in a hand. Mike told David that I wanted Mike to win because he took better care of me than David did. David asked how Mike knew that and Mike replied that him and I slept together. I started laughing…gut busting, all out, bellying laughing.

Mike’s face went to total surprise, “Why are you laughing? Do you think it’s impossible that you and I could have sex?”

David jumped in, “Just because you sleep with someone doesn’t mean that you are having sex,” he motioned over his shoulder at his sweater, “I sleep with him but we aren’t having sex.”

I couldn’t stop laughing. But then I was saved by the push.

Then it was $10-20 NLH, in which I had the best of the deal because Wayne (no…not my hiking buddy) was in the 7s and he’s not only easy on the dealers but a super George.

Spoil everything by the next game, instead of $40-80 Mixed, it was $50-100 Mixed. As soon as I said, “$7 for time everyone…” I got ballistic city, “All the other dealers have been taking it out of the pot…”

When I hit a $4-8 H game, all guys except the chick in the 5s, all the guys were drinking and having a ton of fun. The 6s was having a birthday, the 7s’s name is Greg and we got introduced and shook hands. Scott was in the 10s and he remembered me from the night before with the Phil Helmuth wannabe in Scott’s game…noise and confusion, drinking and laughter reigned supreme…all except for the poor, little chick in the 5s.

She raised. I announced it, everyone folded to the 2s and he was the small blind. He said, “I call,” and put out two more chips. I told him it was raised. He tried to fold. I told him he could not fold. That he had stated call and call he must. He did but wasn’t very happy about it. Of course he won the pot with a pair of threes or deuces and threw me a $5 toke for making him call.

She loudly announced, “You didn’t announce the raise!” and there was no kindness in her voice.

I looked at her. She was glaring at me. I said, “Yes I did!”

The game rocked, the guys had a great time, the poor, little chick in the 5s went home…eventually so did I.

Goodnight Twilight Zone.