I celebrated my independence by going to work and proving that I could work and pay my bills, all by myself…nothing new here, I’ve been doing it for years but it just sounds cool since it’s the day that we sing out our independent ‘we are Americans and damn proud of it, love it or leave it’, type of attitude.

More than once when someone has ragged America in my presence, I’ve said very clearly, “Get the fuck out of here if you don’t like it.” That’s still how I feel about it. This country allow us to express ourselves, be what we want to be, and protects us from the tyranny of those that want to steal freedom. I love the USA.

*****

My shift found me spending time with the people that walk through the doors of Bellagio’s poker room. There were a lot of them and I was only one so I mingled with as many as possible between games, and mostly dealt until my name came up on the EO list. It was 1 a.m. and my Friday. I hit the door. Man was it a hot one here in Vegas.

Drum roll….But before Linda leaves the building…let me introduce you to Dominique and his wife, Lisa.

They play $1-$5 7 Card Stud and never venture into another game or limit. Dom is about 5’5″ and very fragile, in his 80’s (I believe), cantankerous, opinionated, out spoken, prejudiced, and those really are his good points.

Lisa is educated, and carries pretty much the same qualities as Dom except that she’s about 5’8″ and more solid than Dom in physical stature. She appears to be somewhere in the mid to late 60’s.

They dominate any game they play in, often playing in the same game although they don’t sit next to each other. Dominate as in win? No! Dominate as in they watch everything like a hawk watches a mouse peek out of it’s burrow and try to sneak across the meadow without winding up being dinner.

If a new player makes a string bet, before I can say anything, Lisa pounces on him, ripping him into shreds, acting as if he tried to steal her pocket book while she was watching her grandchild swing in the park.

The poor beginner begins to apologize as he looks at her steely countenance and cold, unforgiving eyes.

My normal procedure is to look directly at her, in a soft voice, I say, “I’ll take care of it!”

I have to put my hand out to her to enforce the fact that I’m going to handle it…not her. She accepts that but she watches and waits for the next transgression so she can jump in and attack.

Dom is another story. He seems to think that he has a shield because he’s old and frail. Or because he’s Dom. Or for some nonsensical reason, he believes he cannot be harmed, or get into trouble, when he bows his head and charges at the person he feels has crossed the line and made a mistake. Ninety nine percent of the time, the person has not made a mistake but according to Dom World, he has.

A few weeks ago, Lisa was in the 1s, Dom in the 8s. A new player sat down in the 4s. He was about 40ish, jovial, smiling, waiting for the chip runner to bring his chips, and chewing gum. He popped it with each chew.

The attack began, from Lisa, “You aren’t going to do that all the time you’re playing are you?”

The 4s was startled, as if someone kicked the back legs off of his chair and he hadn’t yet fallen but felt the tremor starting. “Do what?”

“Pop your gum!”

His mouth fell open with the absurdity of the question, he even stopped chewing for a few seconds. He looked at me and I started to smile. He smiled back as he chewed like he was pumping oxygen to the World with each bite.

She snorted, “That’s shows you have no education.”

He chewed furiously, snapping and popping as fast as he could. I wanted to belly laugh but couldn’t…yes, I do behave myself at times.

That is a minor example of what goes on when Lisa and Dom dominate a game. There are lots of other stories but I don’t have the time right now.

Tonight I slipped into the Dealer’s Box of a $1-$5 7 Card Stud game in which Dom was in the 3s, Lisa was his sweater, and he was just buying in…the chip runner was bringing his chips. Dom and Lisa were the only two people I knew in the game.

The 7s was ‘Mama’ and her sweater was her son. Mama was about the same age as Lisa and the son was around 40ish.

I’m horrible with nationalities so let’s just say the 7s and her sweater were not speaking English. I told them they had to speak English once the cards were dealt. After she had cards, they were talking and she showed him her cards. I explained the ‘one player to a hand’ rule, and told them they couldn’t talk while she had cards.

Lisa went off on the fact that they were talking about the cards. How the hell would she know? I couldn’t even hear or understand what they were saying. I said to Lisa, “It’s ok. I’ve explained the rules.”

The next hand, the 7s showed her cards to her son before she threw them away, and it’s possible that the 6s seat could have seen them. Before I could turn the hand over or even blink, the argument started. Lisa blew up with, “She’s showing her cards to him!”

I’m not sure who ‘him’ was but it’s ok to show your cards to a sweater, after all…Dom was showing Lisa his cards.

Dom went into a belligerent rant about how she couldn’t show her cards and she needed to just stop playing if she was going to play that way.

Yep…this is $1-$5 limit where everyone normally has fun and just kicks back.

Mama stood up and held her arm across her son’s chest. Son looked like he was going to get up and go down the table to visit Dom. I did a, “Stop it! Let’s all play friendly. We’re here to have fun.”

Dom was still in the middle of having his fit and he wasn’t about to be slowed down, he shook his fist at the Son and Mama and adamantly demanded, “Go back to the country you came from!”

The son was really trying to stand up now but Mama had him sort of pinned to the chair and I tried one more time, “That’s enough!”

Dom kept trying to mouth something and by now Lisa knew he’d crossed the line, she was pulling on his arm and I looked directly at him with, “You are going to have to stop now!”

He stopped. I had the chip runner ask Nate to come over, he did. I explained that we’d had a little problem between players and they seemed to be settled now, but he might have to return later.

Nate said, “Fine. Just call me if you need me.”

Now Mama went all-in and lost the hand. She pulled out a $20 and I told her she needed to buy $25. She motioned to be dealt out. She sent her son to the cashier’s cage to buy her $20 worth of blue chips. When he returned, she kept her hand over the chips until the next hand started and then threw out her ante, expecting to be dealt in.

Dom and Lisa were ready to pounce again…I had no intention of dealing her in unless she had the correct amount but the hawks were just waiting for the little field mouse…

I told Mama she had to have $25. Her son spoke to her in their language, she argued, then finally he dug into his pocket and pulled out money for her. I felt a little heart tug for him. He acted like he didn’t want to be there but felt he should stay with her, then he had to dig out money so he could be somewhere he didn’t want to be…I looked at him and mouthed, “I’m sorry!”

He smiled. “It’s ok!”

I know this is strange but I get a kick out of Dom and Lisa. He’s set in his ways, grouchy, narrow minded, opinionated, and he has his wife to kick around when no one else will put up with him. She’s educated, a classic in dress and etiquette, quite charming when she wants to be and gets to do her share of the kicking at the table, in other words, she gets to be the kicker instead of the kickee.

I left the table with Lisa and Dom policing the game, armed with talons and quick wings to attack anyone that threatened to have fun or even looked like they didn’t know what they were doing.

By the time I hit the end of my shift, the United States had shifted into Independence Day, the 4th of July. Love this country!

But back to poker. I’ve had a Sam G. post racing through my head and it’s starting to trickle out my nose and threaten to blow out my ears if I don’t write it.

This guy cannot be described. You would have to see it for yourself. He’s a railbird. But also a playing railbird…not just a low limit, run of the mill, average railbird playing railbird but probably the King of Railbirds.

Sam sweats high limit players when he’s broke and out of action. When he’s in action, he plays high limit. His mouth knows no bounds, whether he’s looking for a stake horse, busted down and bottomed out cold, or sitting with stacks of chips in front of him…he’s still mouthy, arrogant, and acts like the world should be thrilled that Sam stopped by.

A few months ago, he was playing $300-$600 7 Card Stud, a zillion chips in front of him, a man and woman sitting behind him, (just take a wild guess who they were…no, not his long lost family or friends…guess again), a long stemmed wine glass in one hand, a swagger in his voice, as he taunted and irritated his opponents at the table, he dripped honey all over his Sweaters. I was dealing and seriously afraid some of that honey might ooze across the floor and get on me. Yikes!!!

The following night, I dealt to him again, looked like the same wine glass and the same scenario with the chips stacks. The ‘Sam Swagger’ was on and he was in the rarest form I’ve witnessed in a long time. He commented several times with something like this, “Now why is everyone so bitchy and hard to get along with?”

He really didn’t want or expect an answer. He was implying that he was calm and magnanimous and everyone else was hard to get along with…you know, the reverse psychology thing.

The only thing different tonight was that he had only the female sweater from the night before.

Food was delivered from one of the eateries. Sam’s honey dripped and slid all over his end of the table as he turned to his Sweater, “Did you get everything you wanted to eat? Is that what you ordered?”

Next to his zillion stacks of Black chips, sat a lonely little stack with some Blues, Reds, and Greens. His sweater reached over and took a few chips off the lonely stack.

He grabbed his Sweater’s hand and growled, “Don’t you ever touch my chips!”

She said all she wanted was a few chips to give to the food server. She waited a few minutes and then admonished him in a very low, threatening voice, “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again.”

Sarcasm ripped like acid through all that honey he’d just laid. He asked, “Isn’t 17% enough for you?”

I never saw his Sweater after that…maybe she couldn’t handle her ‘horse’.

But on to the present. Sam moved past a $15-$30 Holdem game I was dealing and kept eyeballing a little Asian cutie that plays in our room from time to time. The game was shorthanded and after trying to strike up a conversation with her a couple of times, he finally sat down next to her. I called out, “Player in.”

I got the ‘ok’, and Sam pulled out two Black chips for his buy-in. He posted, lost a few hands and ended up all-in and lost that pot too. He pulled out three $20 bills and pushed them to me. I sold him the chips, it was his Small Blind and he didn’t pull out any other cash or chips so as I shuffled the hand, I told him he needed at least $75 to buy into the game.

He gave me his ‘you’re a total idiot look’ and with extreme exaggeration, he asked, “What-t-t-t?”

I explained that he would be allowed only one short buy-in and that it had to be half the minimum buy-in. Another player questioned me on it but it is the house rule. Sam knows it. He said, “Deal me out!”

He left his chips on the table and took a walk. The game broke up. Obviously, Sam is back in the business of being a Railbird.

Tonight when Jeremy T. walked into the room, (which by the way, he had to speak with Doug to get back into the room and was told he had to be on his best behavior if he expected to play at Bellagio), Sam was right up next to him, best of buds, long lost friends, pals ’til the end, and when Jeremy was in a game, Sam was there cuddled up, sweating him.

You really would have to see this show to appreciate it. Academy awards should be awarded in poker rooms.

*****
I was part of this project. Sweet!
Howard Lederer’s ‘Secrets of No Limit Holdem’

I just couldn’t get through the night without being called a ‘fucking bitch’. It wasn’t even in high limit and it was my last game of the night. I’ve dealt to this guy a lot of times over the years and I don’t know his name. If I had to give him a name, it would be Dim Wad. You can figure that one out.

He’s never friendly with anyone, always acts like he’s being hunted…he skulks in and skulks out. He obviously needs stress and anger management, and appears to be suspicious of everyone around him.

I dealt to him on Tuesday night in a friendly little $4-$8 Holdem game. He was the only ‘unfriendly’ at the table.

When I sat down in the game, the 3s was walking. I gave a Missed Blind and No Player button to the stack of chips. Two guys walked up together, one of them took the player’s chair and the other one sat behind him. The sweater told the player to put in the blind and not throw his hand away because he already paid for it and to give me the two buttons.

Another player objected that the Sweater couldn’t say anything…actually she had a fit…and didn’t want the sweater talking because it was the Sweater’s seat.

I had to go through the process of explaining our house policy of one player to a hand and not to visit while the hand was in progress. And I also asked if the chips belonged to the Sweater. He said, “Yes.”

Just before I left the down, the Sweater took a walk. When the next dealer arrived, I explained to the dealer that he had to give a No Player button to the 3s, even though the chips were in play.

The 3s had no idea what was going on and since I was going on break, I took the time to walk over and explain to him that he could still play but his friend would have to take possession of the chips in 15 minutes or he would be picked up. At that time I asked the dealer to give another No Player button because one had been returned to me when I was dealing.

The 3s had no problem with any of it, but Dim Wad was in the 9s and he went off on me, “What’s important is that the seat is filled. It doesn’t matter who’s playing the chips.”

I said, “The rule was made to keep players from list hopping.”

“You should just stay out of it. All that matters is the seat is filled for the other players in the game.”

I said, “Why don’t you take it up with the Poker Room Manager. Perhaps he will change the rule for you.”

“If your supervisor knew what you were doing…”

I motioned to Kamell, he was about 15 feet away at the Page Desk, “Why don’t you go talk to him about it. He might explain it in a manner that you’ll understand.”

I walked away at that point…no arguing with Dim.

So tonight Dim was in my last game, another $4-$8, new faces all around, they came to gamble, showing hands that were kind of sickening if you were trying to beat them with A-K. Just the kind of people I want to play cards with. One hand the board was 10-J-5-2-J. 7-2 was a big hand here, after all the guy had Jacks and Deuces and he won the pot. Love it!

Well…poor Dim. He called himself off of about $120 and when he got the last hand he played beat by 8-9 because his opponent made two pair on the Turn and River, his cards did the ‘overhand, slam, splat’ into the muck as he stood up.

I demanded, “Just set your cards down!” as I looked right at him.

He snorted, “Fucking bitch…” and grabbed the remainder of his chips as he headed out the door.

I yelled, “I want a decision now!”

Andrea was standing a few feet away and I pointed at his retreating figure and said to her, “On him!”

She called Jim R., Graveyard Supervisor, and Jim went after Dim and spoke to him.

Dim got a lot dimmer in my book.

But he’s not the only one that lost a little luster tonight. Some of the boys that you’ve been watching on the WPT, Wednesday night, were playing a Pot Limit Holdem game on Table 2. Mark S. and Jeremy T. both crushed up cards tonight because they didn’t win the pot…both of them got warned and Jeremy ended up being told to leave after he made rude comments to the dealer.

They don’t behave like that on TV so what the hell do they think is going on here? Oh…that’s right, they’re stars now. Maybe they think the poker world has never seen anything like them?

Ha…haaaa…hahaha…belly laugh starting here….gasp, hahahahahahaha!!!

Sometimes magic fills the air, a certain hush breathes an unexpected change for the better, excitement dances across your senses and you want to scream and frolic with the breeze that whips at your hair and screams, “Come on, run with me! Catch me if you can!” Continue reading The art of check raise is reserved for players →

Somebody opened Pandora’s Box in the poker room. All the little Grumble Bugs, Argue Mites, and Swear Beatles got loose and infected a lot of players, maybe some of the staff too, but the staff didn’t make any more noise than usual.

The whole room was a screaming mad house, players waiting to sign in, people going in and out to the tournament area, dealers coming in for Swing shift, satellites and the tournament running in the pit right outside the room, cocktails, and chip runners…HELP!…we need a traffic controller in here!

Back to the Bugs, Mites, and Beatles. I walked out of the room, into the Sports Book, heading for the restroom, to see Dino, (a low limit player that drinks too much, has the most sarcastic sense of humor of anyone I know, and never shuts up about any subject he feels is important which is mainly berating everyone within hearing distance), motioning to me. I walked over and he asked, “How’d you do playing yesterday?”

Almost before I could answer, he asked, “You know what happened to me?”

I said, “No.”

He went into, “I got into a game and the ugliest lady I’ve ever seen was already there playing.

She said, “I take money from men.”

He scratched his face and waited, looking at me like I was really supposed to be appreciating the fact that he was talking to me.

His reply to her was, “You are the ugliest lady I’ve ever seen.”

It’s slightly humorous that he calls her a lady while he’s telling her she’s ugly…or is that just my sick sense of humor?

He shook his head in disbelief as he asked, “Can you believe she wanted a floor person called and I got kicked out for the day?”

I laughed.

Then he said, “Go look at her, she’s on table 15, wearing green.”

I laughed at him as I left. Must be a Grumble Bug’s work.

I started on 42 Break, going into Table 1 at 7:30. Tables 31 through 42 are in the pit/tournament area. I walked out of the poker room, right into Steve, (my last post), he was pacing back and forth, in a little tiz. He stopped me with, “You haven’t been sending in emails about me, telling them I’m hard on dealers, have you?” he motioned to the poker room.

I wanted to laugh but he was seriously distressed so I said, “No. If I have a problem with you at the table, I just call for a decision. You know that.”

He went on to explain that he had been playing earlier and the dealer had no clue what she was doing so he’d been trying to help her. Some of this got a little distorted as he hopped from one sentence to the next like he needs his hard drive defragmented. Someone or the dealer didn’t like it, called the floor person, an argument ensued, he was told to pick up his chips and leave for the day.

He felt that he wasn’t out of line and that Debbie C., the Supervisor on days, had treated him unfairly. It was an Argue Mite at work here.

I told him to talk to Suzie and see what she knew, he said he was waiting for her but she was really busy right now. Speaking of Suzie, she called me from the Tournament area and wanted to know if I’d push into Table 42, a mistake had been made in the line-up. I left Steve to his pacing and went to deal a No Limit Holdem Satellite for tomorrow’s event.

After a break, I hit Table 1. They were playing $300-$600 Mixed Games but I got there for the last few hands of Omaha 8 or Better and then into the Deuce to 7 Triple Draw segment. Jimmy G. – 1s, Jim – 2s, Brian N. – 3s, Tommy – 4s, Eli E. – 5s, Mike W. – 7s.

No one was happy…I was but they didn’t care about me.

Chips and cards were flying, the Shuffle Master was down so I had to shuffle.

Tommy was fit to be tied, literally. After we got into the Deuce segment, he did the ‘super splat’, with all five of his cards dying from brain damage when they hit the green felt, after he gave up on the 2nd draw. He wanted a deck change. I had to call for a decision.

Normally, in games without the Shuffle Master, we change the deck on request except in ‘time’ games. In those games, a new deck is brought in every half hour. It keeps the game from slowing down with all the players that feel a new deck will change their luck, and keep requesting the change.

Since the Shuffle Master was sick, or out to lunch, or broken, or overworked, or whatever it is that happens to Shuffle Masters, the decision was ‘no’ on the deck change. That didn’t go over worth a damn with Tommy either.

During all the hub-bub, card zinging, chip slinging, anguish by everyone, Jimmy kept talking it up in my left ear, making comments that I needed to deal him a winner, ‘come on, Linda, concentrate’, and a few million other statements along with singing, doing a drum roll with his fingers on the table top, asking me what the song was that he used to sing at The Mirage when I dealt to him, etc.
He wanted me to scramble the deck, only in a certain way, because it was lucky for him.

I had to scramble for Tommy too, because he didn’t get the deck change. I did a ‘V’ spread with the cards and then crossed them with each other to make sure they all got mixed, but I could only do it with my left hand, in a clockwise motion, to make Jimmy happy. Yes, I started laughing when he told me to scramble them that way. I said, “Ok.”

He told me I could laugh if I wanted to but it was lucky for him. I kept laughing…how in the hell can you not laugh over this?

I dealt the next hand. Jimmy couldn’t play and told me I spread the cards too ‘long’ when I scrambled, and I needed to do it only about 18 inches in a circular motion. Brian told him that 18 inches was out of the question for any man, then Jimmy said that I would be looking Brian up if he didn’t quit talking about 18 inches. God! I laughed even harder…lunacy could never compete in this atmosphere.

About 6 months ago, I started a new game with Jimmy and three other players, they high card for the button and the playing order of the Mixed Games. As soon as the high card was drawn, Jimmy demand, “Deal, Linda!”

I said, “Jimmy, he hasn’t chosen the order of the games. I don’t even know what I’m dealing.”

He almost screamed, “Deal anyway!”

Wrong answer. I waited for the game choice from the player that drew high card. The twist in all of the games I deal? Each player is the twist.

Then we hopped into a huge action hand in the Deuce: four players, Tommy was the Small Blind, Eli, the Big Blind, Mike under the gun, and Jim was last, having the Button since Brian folded.

Every street was capped, on the 3rd draw, two players stayed pat and the other two drew one.

Tommy bet out, Eli raised, Mike called, and Jim raised.

Tommy started fitching and twitching, “Fucking son-of-a-bitch, fuck…” it rolled off somewhere, lost in the noise of the room, but his mouth kept moving and he kept looking at his cards. He finally slammed his cards into the felt, flipping them with his fingers, his mouth still spouting obscenities.

Eli never said a word but called the raise.

Mike stood up, “This fucking Bellagio, fucking asshole, fucking shit…” that went on for about a minute and half as he stood up with his cards, looking at the table, the size of the pot, the raise he was facing, and he finally threw his cards onto the table and took a walk.

Jim showed a wheel, 7-5-4-3-2.

Tommy kept swearing, picking up his chips, gesturing at me, fuck was about the only word in his vocabulary right then. He left, almost tripping over his own feet in his angry departure.

I shuffled up and announced, “This is the last hand of the game that everyone hates but keeps on playing.”

It was the 8th hand and maybe I should have kept my mouth shut but hey…they share all their profound insight into life with me, so why shouldn’t I share a little of mine with them.

Jimmy said that if I ran a business, I’d drive customers away rather than bring them in, and I should be named the terminator because he’d never seen so many people go broke while I was dealing…totally a myth.

I asked, “Well what can I do? The cards are coming right off the top.”

He was chuckling during this conversation and not mad or mean. I was pretty much in the front row seat of a comedy act and I couldn’t help but laugh with him. Those damn Swear Beatles had a heyday at this table.

Eli and Jim got called to Pot Limit Omaha, $50-$100 Blind, Brian and Jimmy decided they would play Chinese and I dealt three to four hands of that before I got pushed. All of a sudden, Table 1 was quiet. Whew!

My next game was the Pot Limit Omaha game. Devil Fish was in the 1s. They had a twist in the opening round that’s new to Bellagio, any player could put a Straddle on it from any position, $200, but the action started with the player in the Small Blind.

I found this to be a little strange, I would’ve thought that the player under the gun would act and when it came to the Straddle, they could raise or check and the action would move around to the Blinds, where they would call, raise, or fold. The way they’re playing, the Small Blind has to act first and either call the $150 more or throw their hand away, giving up the $50. Called the Mississippi Straddle…more fun and games.

My next game was $60-$120 Omaha 8 or Better with a 1/4 Kill. While dealing it, the game on Table 1 jump started again. Not sure what the game was but I could sure hear the noise. Scotty N., was in it, he was drinking, upset, and swearing. One of the players in my game was watching the noise and confusion – my back was to that table – and he said, “Scotty called the dealer a fucker in Vietnamese and the dealer called the Floor. Scotty forgot the dealer was Vietnamese.”

Everyone in my game was laughing over it. The noise from Table 1 went on for about five minutes before it got settled down.

My next break found me jumping into an escape hatch. I had signed the E/O list, we had plenty of dealers, and Suzie left me go early…I did not walk, I ran…right out into the heat of the Vegas night.

Yippee! I escaped the Bugs, Mites, and Beatles.

My last two nights at work found me playing $4-$8 Holdem. One night a win, one night a loss. Guess the Card Fairy finally managed to sprinkle chip dust in my hair and I just couldn’t resist the urge. I’d been ‘poker free’, as a player, for almost four months. Nope, I’m not giving it up…

The first night found me sitting next to Steve. The night before, Steve was in the 10s of a $4-$8 Holdem game I dealt and the 9s mentioned that I must be the ‘writer and website Linda’. We conversed a little back and forth and Steve wanted to know what it was all about. Matt was the player in the 9s and he told Steve about the site’s contents and said he particularly liked the Montana days (which I plan on putting back into action soon).

I told Steve that I had written about him. He laughed and asked, “You mean the idiot that goes from $80-$160 to $4-$8 and back again?”

We got into a discussion about players, dealers, bad attitudes, good attitudes and believe it or not, I really didn’t have to say much, just nod and ‘umhhhh’ every now and then.

So back to playing with Steve. He was pretty low key and left the table several times for long walks. He can really put a sizzle into a game and crank it up so fast you’ll wonder if it’s even safe to play A-A…but this wasn’t that kind of night. He had a gripe with the WPT showing the hole cards of the players and giving new players the edge on learning the game from television rather than the hard way.

We argued a little bit in the respect that I like the fact that television is bringing poker into everyone’s home and making them aware that they can come out and play…I called it a tie because he wasn’t going to agree with me and I wasn’t going to agree with him.

I also sat next to Richard. He’s been a player in our room since we opened. He’s great as a friend, player, and mainstay in a poker game. He comes to play and if you pay attention, you know where he’s at in a hand.

He was on my left and four times, when I picked up a pair, he picked up a bigger one. I raised. He raised. Luckily the flop let me escape each time. He never hassles dealers or other players or throws cards or chips. Wish I had two or three of him at every table.

The 2nd night I played, I changed tables. A very pretty, young lady and her husband were sitting side by side in the game. They were from New Orleans and had been vacationing for a few weeks, traveling around the country and been on nonstop play since they hit Vegas. Everyone was very talkative.

She asked me what limit they were playing at the table behind me. It was $400-$800 7 Card Stud. Celine Dion’s husband, Renee, was in the 2s of that game. The conversation went to ‘what’s he like to deal to? does he tip? how does he act?’

My answer was and is this: “If all the players in every game I ever dealt and will deal, behaved like he does, you would never hear a dealer or a player complain.”

One thing she said to me that I find to be a touchy subject, her statement? “You must have been really beautiful when you were young.”

One guy said, “I think she’s beautiful now.”

She flustered a bit with, “Well, she is…”

I said, “I think I’m young now.”

She flushed and said she didn’t mean it like that. I smiled and told her I knew how she meant it.

She was giving me a compliment. Yet I find this to be quite irritating. Why do people feel that life and beauty is based on youth? Many people become more beautiful and much more valuable as friends, lovers, companions, and mates as they grow older.

Some of them even learn how to play poker…See you there!

On Monday night, the 23, I dealt two tables of the Festa al Lago, No Limit Holdem Tournament. Amazing how many big name players were left in those two tables…scary if you’re just getting started in tournament play because you know you’re up against some of the toughest players to ever make a stand at the Green Felt Arena.

While I was dealing, Scotty Nguyen, Annie Duke, and Carlos Mortensen, busted out. But there were a lot more ‘name brand’ players than just the three named, these three happened to be at my tables. Some of the WPT players were in this tournament also.

The S*T*A*R*S are everywhere in our room, come in and take a look…better yet, get on the list so you can play with them.

******

John, I’ve known him across the green felt for years; we’ve played together at The Gold Coast and The Orleans, and I’ve played against him and dealt to him at The Mirage, and Bellagio. I get a kick out of him and his play. He says his wife is one of the best cooks in the world…then pats his tummy. He can get a little excited and/or disgruntled while he’s playing but never totally out of line.

While dealing to him in $15-$30 Holdem, he must have been exceptionally tired or stressed out because the scene went like this:

John was in the 9s and raised pre-flop, under the gun. The 6s called.

The Flop was 10-8-7. John bet, 6s called.

The Turn a 5, John bet, the 6s called.

The River a 6, John bet $10 all-in, the 6s called.

John opened his hand, A-K, and said, “Straight, just like you have, only you might have a better one.”

The 6s pitched his hand into the muck.

I was in the process of dropping the deck, pulling the pot together to push it to John and he went crazy. “Linda! He threw his hand away. He has to hold onto his hand.”

Several players started to say something and before I could even get a word in, John went off again, demanding this time, “Linda, he threw his hand away. He has to have a hand.”

Even if I’d had a machete to chop his words off in the air, the next string was blasting out so fast I couldn’t say anything. I put my hand up and almost yelled, “John! Stop! There is NO straight on the board.”

I knew he thought there was a straight but he was so excited that he was like a run away train on 10 mile, downhill grade. He did stop then.

As I pushed the pot to him, I said, “I wasn’t going to split it up.”

Embarrassed, he stuttered and stammered for a few minutes and we went right on with the game. I had to give him a little shoulder pat when I left for the next table.

*****

I got to deal to Double Mean and Completely Ugly again…yes, J.C.P. Fright night and wrath, brimstone and fire, creepiest of the creeps all rolled into the body of something that resembles a person but has nothing in common with the human race.

He was playing $60-$120 Omaha 8 or Better with a 1/4 Kill. The kill was on and he ended up heads up with a young guy next to him, the youngster was in the 7s, J.C.P. in the 8s.

The high hand was Aces and sixes, which they both held, but the 7s had a low. J.C.P. got quartered.

I took half of the chips in front of J.C.P. and gave them to the 7s, split the pot in half, and then split the high in half. I gave the odd chip to the 7s.

J.C.P. said, “I had a high also. Just bring that back and do it right.”

I said, “It is right.”

He followed with, “Then why does he get the odd chip?” Believe me, he knows why.

I said, “Because he’s left of the button.”

I looked directly at him while this was going on. Wish I hadn’t…damn he’s got a lot of ugly and hate in those eyes.

He flustered and blustered through the rest of my down and as soon as the next dealer approached, he put his chips in the rack and left. This guy had a heart attack about 6 months ago. The way he reacts and behaves at the table should be a good reason for him not to play since he has a medical condition.

Another reason for him not to play is so the atmosphere and aura of the room isn’t disturbed by all the hate and anger he has for himself.

This is a six day work week for me and the way the tournament falls, some of our dealers will work two, six day work weeks. Lucky me, my days off fall just right.

Work is fine, it’s just something that makes me crazy because it takes up a major part of my life when I’d rather be doing something else. And spending an additional day at it really causes my free spirit to tail spin into the black hole of CHOKE, GAG, SPUTTER!

I’ve put more than a few million thoughts into the playing arena and what makes it spin, slide, topple, smooth out, and start over again. There are always new players coming in to take their turn at competing to be the best.

Some of the new players are prepared, having read countless books, newsgroups, stories, spent time sweating someone that will allow them to watch, standing on the rail watching games, playing at home games and the internet, and talking about the play of hands and the game with their friends or a peer. They’ve learned about the importance of bankroll, game selection, money management, and how to manage their attitude and they keep learning.

They also schedule their hours each week in a time slot that works for them, still have a social life, and go to the table with plenty of rest and armed to play. Yeah, yeah, yeah, it’s like an ad for a vitamin that gives you a healthy lifestyle. But that’s the way playing poker should be…put in it’s proper perspective, not where it controls you and you drown in the Bad Luck, Bad Card, Bad Dealer Whirlpool.

Some of the new players just come in to jam and try to ‘get lucky’. They start with bad habits. They don’t all have bad attitudes…just a few carry those with them everywhere they go. Some of these players are the most fun in a game and to deal to. They are fresh, untainted, there for the social factor and, yes, they want to win also but if they don’t, they don’t give a damn. They just want to be there.

What’s my point? New players should be gently nudged into the main stream of folding and acting in turn, welcomed and helped with game protocol but never chastised for playing a bad hand and winning the pot, nor should they be instructed on what to play and how to play it…truthfully some of them don’t give a damn about that either…the ones that do will eventually learn on their own by watching and listening. Don’t teach them to beat you at your own game, there are enough sharks lurking around to do that.

I listened to the 6s, in $15-$30 Holdem, make a comment to the guy next to him the other night, this is how it went:

The 1s was a tourist, stuck…he just had the look and very few chips in front of him with a few $100 bills tucked under the chips.

I slipped into the box, smiled at him and said, ‘hello’.

He smiled back and I knew he wasn’t a regular player because he eased the ‘tight lipped’ look long enough to smile.

The 1s called $15 and then a raise, with A-5 OS, heads up. The raiser was the Button.

An Ace, little, little, on the Flop. The 1s bet and got raised, he called.

The Turn was a middle card, bet by the Button, the 1s check/called.

The River a big card, the 1s check/called. The Button turned over A-9, the 9 played.

The 1s had the look of ‘I’m running so unlucky’ but never said a word. He dug out more cash.

The 6s started his commentary…”I can’t believe he called with A-5 offsuit…can you imagine, he called right up front”…laughter…”Wow!…what was he thinking the guy on the Button raised with?”

I’ve dealt to the 6s before, mostly $8-$16 and he always has to chatter box with the player next to him, no matter who it is.

I mouthed at him, ‘SHUT UP! Don’t say anything.’

The 6s got the picture but the 1s was flushed and squirming.

No one ever says anything to the asshole that throws his cards and has a fit and acts like he’s a pro so why say anything to the new guy that just wants to play?

This always seems to be the cycle of poker. Stick around, it just doesn’t get any better than this. NOT! If you’re going to open your mouth, put your brain in gear first and look at the overview!

An interesting facet of poker, Shaun, a $15-$30 – $20-$40 – $40-$80 7 Card Stud player was in a five handed game when I tapped the dealer out. Shaun was in the 7s, he called the River in a three way action hand.

Hunmhai was dealing and even though she understands English, she still has problems with some sentences and phrases and has no idea what they mean. Believe me, I have had many conversations in the Help’s Hall with her, over the years, on what someone meant when they said, ‘blah, blah, blah!’

Shaun looked at her and said, “Protect the muck. I want to see all hands.”

He repeated the statement twice. The 1s, Marty, opened his cards and, Mike, the 2s, threw his hand into the muck. Hunmhai didn’t do anything other than wait for Shaun to fold or open his cards. Shaun had a little, fizz ball tiz…”I told you to protect the muck, I wanted to see the hands.”

She sat there. I knew she had no idea what he meant when he said, ‘protect the muck.’

He insisted that she call the Supervisor. I went to the office and told Kamell that they wanted a decision on table 17. Shaun explained everything to Kamell like this. “I told her to protect the muck. I wanted to see the called hands. She’s supposed to put her hand over the muck and keep the players from throwing their cards into it.”

I couldn’t even keep my mouth shut here, “There’s no dealer in this room, especially me, that’s going to put their hand over the muck. I’ve had player’s try to throw their cards through my chest. When they know someone wants to see their hand, they throw it harder to make sure it gets into the muck.”

Kamell informed Shaun that I had made a good point. Hunmhai jumped up and left the game, giving me a quick ‘thank you’ as she went by. I sat down, announced, “Time pot!” as Shaun still argued his point with Kamell.

Shaun didn’t ante, I gave him a yellow button, Marty gurgled and strutted, he had been loser and playing for the last 48 hours and had finally gotten even, Mike in the 4s said everyone should just shut up and play because he had not been doing well in the last few months and he really had to work at controlling his temper, Mike in the 2s said he was done, I dealt a few more hands and the damn game broke up.

Shaun sat there after everyone left and we went into a discussion. He first said that he had had a talk with Kamell a week or so before and Kamell had stated that he would bring up the fact that the dealer is supposed to protect the muck when a player wants to see a hand. Later that night that same night, Shaun asked a dealer if Kamell had brought it up and she said, “Yes.”

I wasn’t at that meeting so I don’t know what happened there. I told him again that I would never put my hand over the muck, for any reason. He said if he was a dealer that he would and he wouldn’t care if anyone threw cards into his hand.

I flatly told him he was crazy. That he had no idea of the mindset that he was dealing with in all the limits of the room and that I was not paid enough to throw myself over the muck just to make sure a player could see someone else’s cards.

He argued that it was rule. I stated that it was not a rule, it was a courtesy in the lower to mid limit games and that if we had a player that abused the courtesy, they would be told that they could not request to see any more hands.

We were not arguing, we were discussing. I like the fact that if he felt the dealer was incorrect, he wanted the Supervisor called so it could be straightened out. Lots of players want to argue and have a fit long after the time period has passed in which the problem could have been rectified if they had just insisted on calling a Supervisor.

I want to laugh at the fact that he thinks if he was a dealer, he would just do anything to get along with the players. He’s never seen the ‘overview’ because he plays one game, and limits that are closely related. He’s never slipped into my shirt pocket and followed me from limit to limit and game to game, nor had to deal with all the personalities and attitudes from all over the world. It’s easy to say what you would do when you’ve never been there.

He’s not stupid and he’s obviously a winning player. I know a few players that really dislike him simply because he’s very calm when he plays and he’s a winner. Funny…I never told him about that part.

I get a kick out of watching him progress through poker and life. We still laugh over the fact that one night, a sweet young, good looking thing, came up behind him and asked if she could watch him play. Some of her friends were playing in other games and she had no idea what was going on. He said, “Yes!”

Like a dumb butt, head buried in the sand, player, he didn’t know she was trying to put a move on him. I was dealing the game. She hinted about dancing…finally I almost shouted, “Why don’t you take her dancing, Shaun?”

He looked like a bambi in the headlights…realization started to settle in.

I continued with, “Light is open right now. Take her dancing.”

He did. The next time I saw him, he said he had a great time . He laughs now because he didn’t even get what she was hinting at and I almost had to slap him in the face to get him to move his game to the dance floor.

By the time I got done with him and the discussion of seeing player’s hands, I had him convinced that the dealer really did not know what he was talking about, (and she didn’t from a conversation I had with her the next day), and now he was saying the dealer should move the muck over so a player couldn’t discard into it, instead of saying we should put our hand over it. Hey, it’s not much but it’s a small move in the right direction.

*****

I dealt to Norm R. tonight in $20-$40 7 Card Stud, just in case I haven’t mentioned him before, he’s been around since my early days at the Mirage. He’s extremely intelligent, witty in a twisted sort of way, and I get a huge kick out of him.

I screwed up with the antes in one hand. He asked, “Is the pot right?”

I knew as soon as he asked that it wasn’t. I counted it and said, “No!”

He told me that I had given the guy in the 4s change for a $5 chip but I left the chip lay in front of him. I started laughing as it was corrected. I said, “I knew when you asked that it was wrong.”

He asked, “Well what was I supposed to do?”

Me, “Exactly what you did.”

I couldn’t help but smile. As soon as a regular asks a question like that, something’s amiss and they know exactly what happened.

He got called for the $40-$80 game. He took a look. Marty was in the game. Norm said, “He’s been here for 24 hours.”

Me, “Must be Stucksville!”

Several players chuckled. Norm continued with, “He can’t keep up this pace.”

I dealt a few more hands and out of a clear blue sky, Norm said, “Twenty thousand leaks under the sea.”

I started laughing. It turned into a gut buster. Norm covered the lower half of his face so no one would know he was laughing too. He finally said, “That’s the title of Marty’s new book.”

I kept laughing. Then he said, “He looks like a Eunuch, you know!”

I never said a word but laughed even harder. When I left the game, I said, “Thanks everyone,” and to Norm, I finished with, “Thanks for making me laugh.”

He’s full of wonderful, little, surprise bursts of insight. All you have to do is pay attention.

I try to stay away from the ‘dealer/player tip wars’. Why you don’t or do tip is your business. Why I deal? I like the interaction with the players, the action, and the fact that people throw money into my pocket for something that I enjoy doing…great ain’t it?

What’s going on? Your musing…is the bitch in a wine drinking rant or just needs to BLOW UP?

The answer? All of the above. Let’s get right to the heart of the matter. First and foremost, I never…NEVER act like you owe me a tip. I never shrink, whenge, fling, flap, glare or do any stupid trick to make you think you’re supposed to tip me or that I’m expecting a tip. I try to make your playing experience as pleasant as possible, whether it’s your first time or the last day you’ll ever sit at a poker table, when you’re in my game.

Before we continue, one single thought, first and foremost, focused and imprinted on the world’s brain: Las Vegas is a tip industry. Not service, not hustle, not win or lose, but Las Vegas…founded on the basis of a tip. A gratuity. Greasing someone’s palm moves you into favor and first in line…that’s the way it is and always has been. I didn’t make those rules, they’re just there, written in stone, in a nameless cave somewhere.

So on to the rant…I sat down in a $15-$30 Holdem game. The 2s won a pot and threw me $2. ‘Thank you’, shuffle up and deal.

The 2s asked the players next to him what a proper tip was…he had been playing in CA.

Answers: “Some players never tip when they’re stuck.” “Some players tip $5.”

“Some players tip $.50”

“Some players tip $1.”

I looked at him as I dealt the next hand and simply said, “All the players tip me because I beat them up if they don’t.”

I got the appropriate laughter…we were off and running.

Now we back track for a little history. Don B., a $4-$8 Holdem player, has played in our games since the last few years of the Mirage Days, before we all moved to Bellagio. He sent me an email once, asking me if I thought there was a chance we would date…we appeared to have similar interests. Sorry but I have to lay the all cards on the table for this rant. I declined.

He’s stated, many times over the years, that I’m mistake free and the best dealer in the room. When I play in a game he’s in, he specifically tries to beat me. Don’t think I don’t love it because I do and he’s paid me off more than once by trying to run over me.

He tries to jump into any conversation that another player tries to engage me in and even tries to start conversation with me when I’m dealing. Truthfully, I wish he’d just go away.

A few days ago, I dealt to Don and Jarrod (Jarrod has a major attitude for a youngstger and is the subject of a previous post). I was pushing Barbara Jo and something had happened during her down.

About the 2nd hand I dealt, Don, his usual position is the 5s, leaned over to Jarrod in the 8s, and asked him what the exchange was with Barbara.

Jarrod went into the explanation that when he won several $10 pots, it irritated Barbara that he didn’t tip and that when he finally did flip out $1 and ask her to chop, she threw it at him. Hey, I’m not condoning that behavior or totally believing that that’s exactly what happened.

Don said, “If you want to go to management and complain, I will state that I was at the table and saw what happened.”

Christ! The Stone Stiff of the ages talking to Wonder Boy, that defies all the laws of etiquette. WOW! What a combo.

I said, “Do whatever you want, but talk about it away from the table.”

Neither one of them said another word.

Then the magic moment came…I dealt to Don a few nights later. $4-$8 Holdem…he was about the only one I knew in the game. Tourists, enchanted with gambling it up, held the other seats.

He was barricaded in his favorite fortress, the 5s. I pushed him three pots. He stated in an overly loud voice, “Now this is a dealer that’s never tried to hustle a tip out of me…going back to our earlier conversation,” as he threw out $1 and did the ‘chop’ sign on it.

He held the look of a person that just won the Pulitzer Prize for saving the homeless from themselves and not forcing the rest of humanity to look at them in their degenerated state.

Trying not to throw up or look like I wanted to drop kick him off of his chair, I asked, “Now why on Earth would I ever try to hustle you for a tip?”

I really wanted to say, “And look what it’s gotten me! I make $5 bucks a year off of you whether I need it or not.” Yes kids, he’s a total stiff.

He gave me the $.50 and said, “Well some of the other dealers in the room try to.”

I hate this part…I actually had to say ‘thank you’ with a straight face as I locked up the toke. I said, “Tipping is a courtesy, there’s no obligation to tip.”

He replied, “Well, I wish you’d teach your fellow dealers that.”

I countered with, “I will teach my fellow dealers that if you will agree to teach a few players, in this room, a few things.”

The 4s gave me the thumbs up, “Touché…she got you there!”

Don went into something that appeared to be a defense because he ‘never threw cards’ and I agreed…he never has. I finished with, “If you don’t tip, I really don’t give a shit! Stop talking about it and let’s just get into poker.”

That kind of squelched the whole subject and everyone else loosened up.

I have to go back over my thought on this whole thing.

1) If I met someone I was trying to impress and thought about dating, and they worked in a tip related industry, I wouldn’t stiff them. I might be overly crazy and throw them more money.

2) If someone is really good at their job and makes it easy for me to make money by not having to watch them or worry that they might break the game up by being an idiot, I would throw them more money.

3) If I was really trying to impress someone and they weren’t responding, I would just shut up and move on.

Perhaps I’m missing something here…the overview? As it stands, I probably make about $7 more a year off of Don than the other dealers…I figure $10 a year is tops for this guy.

Do I care if he tips or not? No! Do I wish he’d shut up? Yes! Do I ever hope he wins when I deal? No! The bottom line is that I don’t root for anyone to win or lose. But if it came down to heads up with Don and a tipper…

Come on, baby….