Years ago, when the Mirage first opened, I dealt to Joe R. and A.J. in the $75-$150 7 Card Stud games, every day it seemed, and I HATED it. At that time $75-$150 was about the biggest game we ever had running. Occasionally we had a bigger game that Doyle, Stu, Johnny, and the ‘high rollers’ played in but the norm was the $75-$150.

Joe sat in the 1 or the 8 seat and when he lost a few hands back to back, he would flip his cards over my arms so they’d land in the rack. If he was being judged at the Olympics, he’d probably get all 9’s because the cards always cleared my arms but stayed below my chin and all seven of them made the dive into the rack. I never liked to deal to him.

A few years later I wore my hair in a burgundy spike sporting a three inch strip of black that ran like a Mohawk from my forehead to the crown. Funniest part of it was that until I was dealing, under the lights, you would never know the strip of black was in my hair. Frank Cutrona, our Assistant Room Manager, told one of the secretaries in the office that a player had told him there was a dealer with two different colors of hair and Frank had no clue it was me, even though he saw me five days a week.

Joe teased me about my hair every time I went in to deal…”How would you like to go to bed with this one? You’d go to bed with a red head and wake up to a black head the next day.”

He’d laugh and I’d retort with something like, “You’d die in the first 10 minutes. I’m a race horse and you’re not equipped to handle that.”

He’d laugh harder.

His son, Chris, played $30-$60 and $20-$40 7 Card Stud every day and he was horrible to deal to. It took me some years of dealing to him before he figured out that I was just there to deal and not play games with him…we got along better as time passed and he got to where he acknowledged me when I sat down to deal or passed him away from the table.

I ran into Joe at the Gold Coast, we played $4-$8 Holdem together when his wife was at Bingo. He’d yell, “Spook!”

Mostly I ignored him.

Then he started calling me a witch when I dealt to him and he even went so far as to get a Porter’s Broom, (they’re short handled), and put it on the back of the chair when I was dealing. I started cracking up when he did it. I no longer disliked him…guess he wore me down.

One night as I was waiting to push into his game, he reached behind his chair and rubbed his hand up and down my calf a few times. I had on a skirt. He just chuckled over the fact that he got to ‘feel me up’ before I sat down. I laughed too. He was pretty damn audacious for his age, but I guess that’s why he got away with it.

Another time I walked up to deal his game and he had a whole wad of $100’s in his hands, counting away. When he saw me, he leaned back and said, “I had a dream about you last night.”

Me, “You did?”

“Yep, and I owe you a whole lot of money!”

He held out the wad of $100’s. I almost spit I laughed so hard.

I was really impressed with Joe when my youngest son, Darian, came into the room to see me. I happened to be by the table Joe was playing at and I took Darian over and introduced him to Joe.

Joe jumped right up out of the game, shook Darian’s hand, and visited with us for a few minutes. Most players wouldn’t leave their seat if the place was on fire. I felt Joe honored me with a compliment by standing up and stepping away from the table.

After we moved to Bellagio, Joe stopped playing for awhile. He had a stroke. Not long after that he lost his son, Chris. His wife hadn’t been well for a long time.

Joe went from being vibrant and active, walking everyday and busy, busy, busy…to old and frail, walking with a cane, almost over night. It was like watching the life being sucked out of a person. He still plays everyday, mostly $40-$80, and if I see him, I always go by and give him a little rub or pat on the shoulder. He loves it.

I dealt to Joe and A.J. in the same game again, a few times this week…after how many years?

A.J. hadn’t played a lot at Bellagio in the last few years and recently started again.

A.J. never gave me any kind of heat when I dealt to him although a lot of other dealers felt that he’s always mean and rude to them. As a matter of fact, the only two things that I ever clearly remember him saying to me was in the first few years I dealt to him. One was, “Deal my cards right here,” as in put them in close proximity to his chips, and “Always deal me in,” as in he wasn’t there to play the ‘If I wanted a hand, I would’ve anteed,’ game that a lot of players pull. He was there to play poker so if he didn’t ante, I made sure he wanted in/or out by checking with him.

A.J.’s wife, Marian, plays low limit 7 Card Stud and we’ve become ‘table friends’. She told me once at the Mirage, that all the high limit players loved me to deal because I just dealt the game instead of playing the idiot dealer game. She had to have heard that from A.J. which pays me a very high compliment.

A.J. has taken a stand in my defense many times over the last four to five years when a player starts whenging and whining because they are low card or they lost a pot.

A.J. takes a chiding bit of commentary and makes his point. It goes something like this, “Well who should she pick to be low then? Do you want her to stop dealing so you won’t be low? Do you think she cares if you tip her, there are other people that appreciate her dealing and do take care of her.”

And a few other queries and comments usually manage to shut the whining valve off.

A.J. never minces words with anyone so you always know exactly where you stand with him. He thanks me when I show him a courtesy as in bringing a chair for his wife, or looking behind me before I push out of the box, when he’s in the 1 or 8 seat, because he has a bothersome leg that he stretches out and I don’t want to hit his foot with my chair.

When we were at the Mirage, A.J. had a medical problem. The word at the table was that he had blockage in a vein in his neck.

The Dr.’s removed a vein from his leg to replace it and then found out that wasn’t the problem. The word was that A.J. went absolutely ballistic with and over the whole thing.

Another player said that wasn’t true at all, that A.J. had a heart transplant but his body rejected it because it had never had a heart before.

He did have a bandage on his neck so I’d have to go with something along the lines of the first ‘word’ at the table although the second one was funny as hell.

A.J. has also aged, along with Joe, but then so have I. They are a huge part of my Vegas history…might be they are an acquired taste…might be that I learned a lot about myself and consequently learned how to appreciate them.

My first game was $4-$8 Holdem on table 23. John occupied the 1s. The first time the bet came around to him, I knew we were all in for a hell-u-va long session. He’s older, 70 by his count, and probably had 70 beers at last count.

His voice sounded like he was talking through a pile of mush that had been filled with molasses on a cold winter day in Montana. His bets and raises came in the same way. He knew where he was in the game…no doubt about that…he was just so damn s-l-o-w. I did everything I could to speed up the action and since he was calling and raising some of the bets in the dark, and winning, no one seemed to mind…they all knew they would get their money back if he stayed long enough.

He won a huge pot and I offered to help him stack his chips while he looked at his cards. He said, “Someone at the table might object to your helping me.”

Me, “Hell no they won’t, they just want to see the next hand.”

He then asked, “Is there any chance for you and me getting together?”

I laughed and said, “you’re way too young for me, Pardner.”

That’s when he sprang with the info about the age thing.

I finally called Viliawaun over, (chip runner extraordinaire), and told her that John had too much to drink and was in need of coffee. She notified Kamell.

Kamell came over and told John he was taking his beer and asked if John would be interested in coffee. John just went with it, said he was easy to get along with, and away we went, right to the next hand.

A little later, John asked, “Did that guy take my beer because he was afraid I’d take the whole place apart?”

We all got a chuckle out of that one but in the meantime I explained that the ‘guy’ took his beer because he was concerned for John’s sake. That made John happy and he jammed. Great game if you could stand the lulls while John looked at his cards and decided to bet or raise.

Marsha tapped me out. I gave her the low down. John had a strange, quizzical look on his face when he saw me standing by the next table instead of dealing to him.

I said, “She’s your new guardian angel. Take care of her.”

Someone at the table asked, “Has she been instructed?”

I replied, “Totally!” Big grin here!

My next game was a riot and half but it has to be a post for later. It would take too long to fill in all the details of the conversation and it’s half past my bed time. Nighty night!

Our little LemLem is back. She had a baby boy a few months ago and she’s back to work dealing two days of the week right now. She’s a beauty. She’s the kind of person that you just have to smile when you see her…she’s neat.

*****

Jillian’s back for a short time, she’s playing poker, hopping and bopping, singing and jiving to the beat of her MP3 player…just like old times. I had to give her a little razzle dazzle tonight and tell her that I tried to have a ‘house rule’ made that she couldn’t sing or dance in her chair when she played poker.

She was in the 3s in an $8-$16 Holdem game and the 1 and 2s took off with her on one song…they couldn’t hear what she was listening to but they WENT WITH IT! It was funny.

*****

I hit the $600-$1200 Mixed game again tonight. Pretty much the same crowd, except for Ralph…David G. was his replacement.

As soon as Eli saw me, he took off with, “Shaun cashed out and then came back to the table looking to see if he dropped a $500 chip last night, he was $500 short. He gave Linda $400. I told him to go find Linda.”

He was smiling when he said it but it sort of felt like the square needle because I’d gotten an overly large tip from Shaun last night…believe me these are few and far between, somewhere in the neighborhood of every three to four years.

Eli continued with, “Well, she did push him over $45,000 in a few hands. If she deals me $45,000 winner, I’m going to give her $500 just to beat Shaun.”

Shaun never said a word or looked up.

Jennifer jumped in, “If she deals me $45,000 winner, I’m going to give her $500.”

Eli, “You have to beat what Shaun gave her and I’ve already offered $500.”
Jennifer, “Ok! I’ll give her $525.”

I just laughed.

It’s a raffle ticket…exactly a raffle ticket. I have no idea who is going to win any hand and I never let myself get emotionally involved so I really don’t care. Yes, if I could choose someone that tipped over someone that didn’t tip, I would choose the tipper. I never have a choice so I quit thinking about it years ago. More than once, one of them has won more than $45,000 during my down…don’t even think for one millisecond that they considered tipping me $500…it’s more like $1 to $2 or maybe $5 when I leave the game. Shaun is the exception to the high limit rule.

No one did anything spectacular, Jennifer left about half way through my down, Chau came in as a new player, I got pushed.

The rest of the night was gamble, gamble, gamble. An $8-$16 Holdem game on table 15 was hysterical but trying to describe it would destroy the beauty of the threads of the tapestry that held it together.

Another hot Vegas day looming ahead and the quiet, dark, peace of my bed awaits.

It’s really hard to paint the perfect picture of a poker room and have everyone grasp exactly what you’re trying to say. One night a young man approached me and asked if he swore at me if I would write about him here. It’s funny in the sense that I feel he really didn’t have a clue as to what I’m actually writing about. If I have to explain that to everyone, then no one has a clue.

I get enough fan mail through the Internet though that I know most of you really do get the picture. That’s what makes it all worthwhile to me…knowing that a lot of you relate and see the same personalities and events where you play poker that I spend my working hours with here in Vegas.

I get bashed every now and then because someone thinks I hate players…that is the most untrue statement I’ve ever heard. Players remind me of me and I certainly don’t hate myself…the human element is the meat of the whole picture…so here’s the picture.

Ho, one of our long time players, from the days of the Mirage, had a stroke some years ago and is paralyzed down most of the right side of his body. He’s never mean but sometimes ‘pokes’ at me because I dealt him off or I haven’t given him a winner or some such nonsense. He likes to play and sometimes he can jam it up faster and harder than a 10 year old kid trying to light the most firecrackers under the bleachers on the 4th of July. He plays only $15-$30 or $30-$60 Holdem now but used to play 7 Card Stud.

Tonight I started on first break. I wheeled out of the room on my way to the Help’s Hall when I heard, “Linda!”

I looked but didn’t see anyone. Then as I started to move off, “Linda!!!” and I saw Ho sitting at one of the poker machines. I went back.

He wanted me to roll up the sleeves of his jean jacket. I did and also buttoned them. He wasn’t sure about the buttoning because he didn’t think he could get them off when he got home…I told him if he wanted, later in the night, I’d unbutton them. I checked with him a few hours later and the cuffs were all cool…then about midnight, I dealt to him in a $15-$30 Holdem game.

During my down, his name was finally called for $30-$60. He told me was going home, since 6:30, he motioned to his sleeves, he’d been waiting for a seat in $30-$60 and now it was too late. I couldn’t help but laugh and wish him a goodnight.

*****

I called Doug, the Card Room Manager, today and spoke with him about my Mike D. incident last week. Doug sent a memo to all the supervisors. Suzie was my supervisor tonight.

She knew, before I went to tell her, that I would be dealing the game that Mike was playing in within an hour. She had already spoken to him about my dealing through the game.

Honestly, for the first time in my entire career of dealing to Mike, he never flipped a card, folded out of turn, glared or pitched, or flipped his bring-in up into the air. It was heaven.

The down was totally calm and quiet…just the way I like it…I deal, you play.

*****

I hit the $600-$1200 mixed game late in the night on table 1. Shaun – 1s, David B. – 2s, Eli E. – 3s, Ralph – 4s, Jim – 5s, Jennifer, 6s, Jim G. – 7s, Emir – 8s. I know a lot of dealers hate to deal this game but this is sometimes where I have the most fun.

The outgoing dealer was leaving the box and had her butt up out of the chair. Shaun set a green bird ($25 chip) by the rack and asked for change and she either didn’t hear him or didn’t want to stop. She was moving away from the table, I’m sitting down and Shaun reached into the rack and took out five, $5 chips, cleared his hand to show that was all he took, and I made a motion at slapping his hand and asked, “Are you trying to get me fired?”

He is extremely easy to get along with and we have HISTORY, even away from the poker room…no, nothing erotic or wild so don’t get your hopes up. He laughed and handed one of the $5 chips to the outgoing dealer.

Eli said he would like to get me fired.

I innocently looked at him and asked, “Me?”

He said, “Yes!” Hey…he was kidding.

I said, “Then buy the place and fire me.”

Emir asked Ely, “You can do that…buy the place?”

Eli and his wife were both chuckling.

David cashed out shortly after I sat down. Jennifer played a few hands and exchanged phone #’s with Emir…someone said something about swearing and she said, “I never say things like that except when I’m calling this dealer names.”

Me, “Me? You never call me names.”

She gave me the bratty girl look and said, “I know I don’t, I like you too much.” See, I do have friends in high places.

She left the game shortly after that and Shaun teased her about taking all of her ‘society’ chips and getting the hell out of there.

Emir got a phone call and he was going to have to leave. He’s a Dr. and somewhere in the city a woman was having a baby…probably more than one but this one he would attend to the birth.

Shaun and Emir had been jamming, along with Ralph and Eli in intermittent bursts, but mostly Ralph, Shaun, and Eli.

Shaun was on a rusher and picked up several huge pots back to back. Ralph snipped the cards so hard I almost didn’t catch them with my right elbow but the block was in effect and I stopped them. The next hand he snipped them at me again and I had to field one of them with my stomach. I said, “Slow them down, Ralph.”

He mumbled something like, ‘don’t talk to me.’ He looked like the Grim Reaper had been hunting him for days and rest and food were out of the question. In other words, he looked stuck and he got stucker when Shaun went on the rush in Deuce to 7 Triple Draw Low.

Emir left. The game was down to five players when Shaun counted up and said a, “Holy shit!” type of thing. He’d been down around $45,000 and he was even.

To me he said, “I don’t think anyone here realizes the bond you and I have.”

I couldn’t help but agree. He was $400 winner and he gave it to me. Don’t think I didn’t do a few YIPPEES, WOO HOOS, JUMP UP AND DOWN WHILE I’M DEALING…I did.

Jimmy G. made the comment to Shaun that he was overly generous. Shaun replied with, “She’s my girl.”

Shaun looked at one last hand and left. Jimmy asked Shaun where he could fill out an application.

I dealt a few more hands and got pushed. What a bonus for me…Shaun not only made my night, he made my week.

*****

My next game was $30-$60 Holdem and it was a lot of fun. Young was in the game. He’s a story all by himself but I’m bushed. Another time.

I got a real treat when I started to leave the room on my first break. A woman and two children, boy and girl, were standing at the entrance to the card room looking for husband/dad.

I stopped and asked if I could help them.

The woman said she was looking for her husband and I suggested that she step up to the front podium and ask the Brush person to page him…she hemmed and hawed and said that he might be winning and she didn’t want to jinx him.

I then asked what game he played and what limit because I intended to tell her which part of the room to scan.

She didn’t know. She turned to the boy, he appeared to be eight or nine years old, and asked, “Do you know what game he plays on the internet?”

We went through Texas Holdem and a few others guesses and finally I convinced her that I would stand there with the kids while she asked the Brush to page. She went.

The boy said, “My dad likes to play tournaments.”

Me, “Yeah, they’re cool.”

He went on with, “He knows what cards to keep and what to throw away. He’s a very good player but the computer is cheating.”

Honestly…I swear…I kept a straight face when I replied, “Wow! Really? That’s not good, a computer that cheats?”

Mom returned and dad wasn’t there. They left me and I chuckled over that comment all night long.

*****

The highest limit tonight was $600-$1200 Mixed. I went through the game on Table 1. The Shuffle Master was turned OFF!!! Bad beat. I love the Shuffle Master…not sure why it was out of commission. The last word I heard was that we would have them on 28 of the 30 tables. That would really be sweet.

******

While dealing $30-$60 Holdem, a sweet young thing asked for first seat change. Another player told her it went by seniority. It was funny because the conversation turned to the fact that two of the players, new to Bellagio, at first thought that it was the length of time you played at Bellagio…their play began a few days ago.

They wondered how anyone could keep track of someone that had played there since opening vs. someone that started a few months after the place opened and on down the line.

Hell no! I’m not kidding. They weren’t even blonde.

One of them said that when she first heard it, she thought she would be the last person in the room to be eligible for a seat change because she was fairly new to poker.

I cracked up!

******

Our next tournament kicks off this month on the 23rd. Visit this page for dates and schedules. Don’t be shy about calling Bellagio if you have any questions. Show up and play with us…you’ve all been watching the World Poker Tour so you know what’s going on in the real world of poker and you know Bellagio is the place to be…See you there!

Take a moment and reflect…this is not about poker, it’s about life. Mike, a Montana man, is going in tomorrow to have his leg amputated. He’s blind, diabetic, and is on dialysis for kidney failure. First he has to go through dialysis, which is brutally hard on one’s body, wait a few hours, and then have his leg amputated because gangrene has taken over his foot. Mike is 49. He’s has very few pleasures left in the world and one of them is fishing. He did go fishing when someone would take the time to take him.

Mike has lived with his mother, Patty, all his life. Patty is single, works for a living, a kind and loving, hard working mom, that’s in complete, emotional distress right now. Her son is going through something that no one can share with him. She has to watch, hope and pray for the best result for him, and whatever happens after that, she has to deal with in her own way.

I write this hoping that each and every one of you that reads it will take a moment, think of Mike and Patty, and send your strongest hopes and prayers for both of them to come through this and find peace while they are going through it. My prayer for both of them is peace, healing, spiritual and physical wellness, and if the physical existence cannot be maintained, then peace and acceptance when moving to the next step of being.

While you’re thinking of them, think of yourself and those you love. Cherish what you have and be thankful for each day you’re given with those you love.

I have absolutely no sense of humor about this post…nothing witty or enlightening or even humorous to throw in just for kicks. It’s like living in a bad marriage or working a job that you’ve absolutely despised for the last 20 years but you have to be there, the rent’s due and sleeping in a bed followed by a hot shower in the morning is a wonderful thing that you don’t want to give up.

I see a lot of the same people day after day, interjected with a few new ones. Almost all of the ‘same’ people are really wonderful and I’ve learned to appreciate them as people rather than putting them in the category of ‘poker players’. I’ve learned a lot about myself from watching what they do, how they behave, what causes their actions and reactions, why they’re playing poker, and what brings them to the point they are in in their lives that might be the reason for their behavior patterns. There are very few people that leave me absolutely cold, where I’ve finally reached the point that I see nothing in them that resembles a spark of humor, kindness, or warmth for anyone, including themselves.
So…the subject? Mike D., AKA Israeli Mike, the subject of many other posts over the years. I tried talking to him not long ago when he was in Sport’s Book. Sometimes it’s worthwhile to approach someone outside the room and see if I can’t resolve the differences or hard feelings and move on. It’s worked with a few other players over the years and I thought it might work here. Not so.

He’s not only in full tilt mode, he’s Super Jerk disguised as a nightmare, poker playing, asshole. I used to believe that J.C. Pearson was 10 steps below being human and now I know Mike has first place locked up in the Superstitious Lunatic, Complete Asshole of the Year Award for the next 50 years.

As I waited for the dealer in front to me to finish the hand in $40-$80, 7 Card Stud, I watched Mike throw two $10 chips to A.J. Mike was in the 2s, A.J. in the 8s. A.J. threw them back to Mike. Mike threw them back to A.J. with some comment like, ‘take them….’

A.J. threw them back to Mike and said, “No!”

Mike went into some kind of dialogue that appeared to me to be a cover up for being dissed by A.J. Mike started making comments to Lee, 4s, an Asian that plays almost any limit and game, has very broken English, and is extremely abrupt, loud, and staccato with his comments and word usage.

Mike reached across the 1s’s playing area and put his fingers on the 7 Card Stud Plague and staring at Lee, went into, “What did you think we were playing? This isn’t Omaha 8 or Better, it’s 7 Card Stud.”

His focus now was completely on Lee. Lee and Mike exchanged banter for a moment as I entered the game and announced, “Time pot.”

I shuffled up and dealt the first hand, Mike reached over, grabbed the 7 Card Stud Plague out of it’s slot and threw it towards Lee. Lee did a reflex move and knocked it down the table where it slid off onto the floor by the 7s.

I curtly demanded, “Stop it!”

The 7s picked the Plaque up off the floor and handed it back to me. I replaced it during the hand.

Mike went out to smoke or burn voodoo dolls or whatever it is that he does when he takes a walk. He came back, played and lost three to four hands in a row, flipped his cards into the rack and pot, glared at me, won the next pot, lost the next two, and won the next pot.

During all this action, Lee left the game and our empty seat was filled. The new player apparently knew the 5s from the playing together the day before. The 4s and 5s were middle aged gents, both strangers to me, and appeared to be European. They were visiting quietly while all the action was going on.

The last hand I dealt, the incoming dealer had already tapped me out, I’d called for a set-up for the next dealer, and Mary, (a dealer that’s filling in as a ‘Brush’), was standing behind me with the new decks, Mike and the 5s go to war in a hand. The pot was huge.

The 5s made a flush in 5 when Mike made open Kings. Mike made trips at this point but never filled. More chips screamed and crashed into the pot. Needless to say, Mike lost the hand. He sat with his cards in his hand, mumbling, nodding, appearing as if he was in need of a Straight Jacket to keep him from jumping out of his skin, and I knew the CARDS WERE COMING IN!

They did. He hit me right in the left breast with them. Three of them fell into the rack. I picked up two of them, had them cocked, aimed and ready to fire at his face, (almost before I knew I was doing it), when I stopped myself.

He challenged me with the needle, “Go ahead. Go ahead.”

I sincerely believe that if I had thrown the cards at him, he would’ve felt that it was ok to get up and hit me.

Instead, as I pushed the pot, in an overly loud bark, I said, “You are so rude it’s unbelievable.”

He grumbled, “I’m rude…you deal…”

I interrupted him with the same loud tone, “You are rude just because I deal the cards right off the top and you’re not winning.”

The worst of it is that the new players looked at Mike as if he’d turned into Demon Spawn. He’s even hard on players, not just dealers.

The 5s threw me a tip, I put in the new set-up and exited the dealer’s box.
Mike started a mumble that only parts of it were heard, “…not today…the fucking…”

Mary jumped in with, “That’s enough, Mike!”

I dealt my next two games and went on break. During the break, I wrote an incident report to ‘paper trail’ this incident. I spoke with Nate, Swing Shift Supervisor, and Pete, Graveyard Supervisor, that night, and Suzie the following night.

I’m done, finished, kaput, with ever trying to even be civil to him again. If he breathes hard in my direction and the wind moves past my head, I’m calling for a Decision.

He threatened once to make a call ‘outside’ the casino and have me taken care of. If I die, for any reason, please call 911 and have them investigate him.

He doesn’t know it but he’s already dead from self induced mind poisoning. Man that’s a horrible way to go.

Guess I’m a little startled over the comments on the Shuffle Master from a few players, both low and high limit. Seems they feel that they might not be getting the complete, real shuffle and they would feel better if they could see the machine shuffling.

How would the Shuffle Master know who it was that was supposed to lose, what seat they were sitting in, what the game would be, and to deal them off and who was supposed to win? Ok…don’t answer the question because it’s not really a question. It’s my musing, simply trying to understand the mind that always thinks they’re being cheated or set up.

Speaking of which, I recently dealt a $400-$800 7 Card Stud game. Mimi was playing over the 2s. Schlomo was in the 1s, Curtis was in the 8s, unknown player in the 4s. The action went to all the raises on the first three cards with Schlomo, Mimi, the 4s, and Curtis. Curtis’s door card was an Ace and he raised every time the action came back to him.

A lot more chip slamming developed on each street, raises, more raises, calls. Curtis was high on every street and put as many chips in the pot as he could except on the River where he turned into a ‘check and call’.

Schlomo bet, Mimi and the 4s folded, Curtis called. Schlomo said, “Straight.”

Unfortunately our poker tables have a slight indent in the dealer area so we sit a little into the table and the players in the 1st and last seat have a difficult time seeing around us. I had to lean a little forward to reach for the 4s’s hand while Schlomo was turning over his straight.

Curtis had an exasperated tiz over the fact that he couldn’t see the hand as it was being turned over. His comment went something like this, “…he needed a gut shot 8…how do I know it didn’t come from the hand next to him…I couldn’t see it being turned over.”

Curtis ended up with Aces Up and Schlomo did have the straight, 10 high. Yes, Curtis was frustrated and a little steamy. I can’t change the fact that as soon as a player folds, I have to scoop that hand into the discards which means I will be leaning forward and reaching across the table, possibly blocking someone’s view…much better that I do that than have that folded hand retrieved by it’s owner because they realized they overlooked something.

The fact that Curtis has made more than one reference to ‘being cheated’ lately makes me wonder if he’s not only jumped into the deep end but completely drowned because he always has the look of a haunted player. Definition? He’s lost in the Twilight Zone and it’s all rotating in slow motion, a floating, almost invisible wraith keeps calling every bet Curtis makes and then showing Curtis runner, runner, beating every big hand Curtis holds.

I stopped trying to guess or delve into what people think when they make the same statement and behave in the same manner, year after year. They’re stuck in a rut and no one, repeat, NO ONE will ever be able to show them the way out. They’re like the horse in the burning barn that has to be blindfolded to be led past the flames even though the doorway is right in front of them.

This is not a Curtis Roast. It’s just an example of how a player reacts when they are running bad. My thought is that when you’re in ‘the pink’, when ‘life is grand’, when ‘everything is coming up roses’, jam the hell out of it…shove the accelerator through the floor. When it turns around and you’re running barefoot up an ice hill, covered with oil, make sure you have a sled attached to your ass just in case you slip.

I dealt to A.A., commonly known as ‘Double A’, in a $10-$20 Half Kill Omaha 8 or Better game. He asked me if I had a story picked out to write today.

I told him yes.

He smiled and said, “A story every day. Do you take notes or just remember?”

I told him I had it all logged in my head and he asked me if it was a high limit story, to which I replied, “Mid-limit…$40-$80 7 Card Stud.”

Hey…in most parts of the world $40-$80 would be considered high limit but when I’m dealing $500-$1,000 and $2,000-$4,000 and even higher, I feel it’s a mid-limit game.

A few days ago I pushed into a game he was in and he mentioned that he hadn’t seen me at all in the card room. He said he’d seen me more on the Internet than at Bellagio. He meant he’d visited this page but another player took it to mean that I had pictures up on the net…umhhh! That took a moment to explain!

I really like A. A. He’s always quiet until someone barks at him for playing a bad hand and winning or when he’s defending a cause he feels is just. His spiritual presence is wonderful and his smile shows his heart. Nice!

So…on to the story. The $40-$80 7 Card Stud game is eight handed. A few regulars but mostly tourists, although the tourists know how to play poker and aren’t there to be hooked and gaffed for dinner.

Michelle is in the 6s, a long time regular. While this may sound cruel, it’s simply a description. She appears to be almost comatose, as if the 60’s were really good to her and she’s never made the move into the year 2000. Her expression never changes, her eyes never light up, each move is deliberate, as if she has to focus on each step of the journey one step at a time or she’ll lose the objective. Her speech is always measured and deliberately precise and totally monotone.

The game sucked. Very little action and mostly low card open, a raise, and everyone folded or if someone called the bring-in amount, they would then check, check, check…this was the perfect game for a speeder that can stay under radar and outplay the game police.

One hand came down with the 4s, 5s, and Michelle. The low card brought in the bet, the other two called. On 5th Street, Michelle made open 5’s. The 5s had an Ace up, no pair, and even though I called the pair of 5’s, the 5s checked as if he held the high hand. Michelle checked and so did the 4s.

On 6th street, I again called the pair of 5’s as high. The 5s checked again. I told him he wasn’t high, the pair of 5’s was high. Michelle checked and so did the 4s.

On 7th street, I again called the pair of 5’s. Michelle bet $80, the 4s raised, the 5s folded, and so did Michelle. At this point, we all realized the 4s had open 7’s showing. Did he have them on 6th? I don’t know. I did not see the pair. No one at the table saw the pair. There were eight other pairs of eyes at the table yet no one saw the pair of 7’s.

Now Michelle started her slack jawed, vacant stare, monotone, “I didn’t know he had a pair. I wouldn’t have bet.”

I had already pushed the pot because she folded her hand. I said I was sorry, I didn’t see the pair either. Hell…she was never going to be happy with that one. She insisted she should get her $80 back and I should call for a decision. Fine! I did.

Boba came over and made the decision that it was too late, she’d already folded. She still wasn’t happy and wanted her $80 back. Suzie was going to be called to the table.

The 4s offered to give back the $80 but “NO!” let’s wait and see if the house will pay it to her.

The worst of it is that the 4s said he knew he had a pair of 7’s showing but he just wasn’t thinking when I called the pair of 5’s as the high hand. How bad is that? He knew he had the 7’s but didn’t stop the action. He just raised it instead. That’s taking a shot in my book.

Suzie came over, situation explained, and I cut $80 out of the rack and gave it to Michelle. They all mumble jumbled over that one for a few minutes and I said, “The next time I miss a pair showing, someone please tell me.”

The 5s said it was the first time he’d ever seen me make a mistake. I said I hated to make mistakes and I’d take help if someone thought I was going to make one.

I did make a mistake, in that hand, but my feeling is the 4s made the biggest one. He took a shot and got away with it.

Dealing has been a lot more fun lately…no experts that know everything telling me how to do my job…mostly people that came to play poker and aren’t trying to screw with me. There are a few that leave me shaking my head when I leave the table.
One is Ralph P. He always has to take an issue with the dealer, as if he was appointed by God to make sure that he keeps the dealers in line and shows them the folly of their ways. That folly would be becoming a dealer to begin with.

I pushed into a Mixed game, with Sammy F. (2nd place in the WSOP), Ralph, Jim, Mike, Jason (4th place in the WSOP), and Bruce. They had just finished eight hands of $100-$200 Pot Limit Omaha, with the last dealer, and I would start the 1st hand of Deuce to 7 Triple Draw Low. There were no wonderful little game plaques or clues to tell me what the limit was. Sometimes you just have to wing it…I did.

I announced, “Time pot!” Sammy was the small blind and put out $300, Jim, the big blind threw out what I thought was $600. I assumed the limit was $300-$600…silly me. I took the ‘time’ out of Sammy’s blind and dealt the hand. Everyone folded back to Sammy and he put in $200 more. I told him he owed another $100.

He didn’t say anything. Ralph jumped in informing me that the bet was right.

To Sammy, I said, “No, you need another $100.”

Ralph, then Sammy, both said, “You took $50 for time.”

I still didn’t get it. I insisted one more time that he owed another $100. Then I looked at Jim’s blind which was five chips…it dawned on me they were playing $500-$1,000. I apologized and stated, “There is no plaque to tell me what the limit is.”

Even though Ralph was not in the hand, he gave me the stern, you’re an idiot for being here, “I told you and he told you, yet you persist.”

My thought: Piss off!

It would have been so simple if someone, anyone had said, ‘the limit is $500-$1,000. Too easy. Punish the dealer by making them guess what you’re doing. Ralph was the only one it bothered…typical…he’s always trying to pull something whether it’s getting a free hand in a new game or winning one pot and leaving, he leaves a trail where ever he goes…never the trail I would like to follow.

The game broke up within a few minutes because Sammy was bored. He wanted to play only pot limit. Ralph tried his usual…pacify everyone only let’s get Sammy to stay in the game and when that didn’t work, Ralph went to another game, the trail becomes narrow and slippery here.

Everyone escaped to another game but within a few minutes, Lee S. and Sammy were playing heads up, $200-$400 Pot Limit Holdem. I dealt a few hands of it and got pushed.

*****

$30-$60 Holdem. Fairly quiet game, two strangers in the 5 and 6s, two seats open. Ritchie W. flopped a King High Straight and slammed every chip in the world into the pot and the 5s drew out on the river, making an Ace high straight.

Ritchie bet the river, got raised, raised it himself and the 5s just called with the stone nuts. Ritchie takes a beat better than anyone I know. He laughed and said he just couldn’t put the 5s on that hand. No card throwing, swearing, or terminal idiocy. Ritchie is a player’s player.

A few minutes later the action went into the ‘hit the bomb shelter, find the best evacuation route available, there’s a comet coming into Earth at 5 a.m., and every chip left in the free world has to go into the pot’.

The pot was capped with four-way action pre-flop. The flop was small, with a pair. The Turn brought a King. Vince, the 2s got the last raise in before the flop. Roger, the 4s got in every raise he could also.

Vince checked the turn.

Roger asked, “You checked?” and bet.

Vince called. On the river, Vince checked, Roger bet, and Vince called. Roger showed King’s full and Vince showed A-A before he flipped his cards into the muck.

That’s when the mumble, jumble, mutter, schmutter started. Vince made comments about Roger’s “You checked?” statement, interjected with fuck and fucking bitch. He did the fucking bitch thing several times but I still haven’t figured out if he was talking about me or Roger. 🙂

Thank God for the time clock and the hot Vegas mornings…kind of brings me back to another place and time.

*****
A new game in town…Fantasy Poker Camp