Ernie! My first dealing experience with him was at the Mirage years ago. Jewish, elderly, snow skiing maniac, very active and appears to be quite healthy and able to play poker for another 100 years or so…has me laughing at his paranoid, lucky dealer superstition. We go through periods of time where he will not speak to me or even look at me…then we revert to what he must feel is a comfort zone, he talks to me non-stop while I’m dealing.

I dealt to him three nights in a row last week. The first incident was $30-$60 Holdem. When I approached the table, he was in the 2s and looked up at me and stated, “If you deal me a bad beat, Linda, I’m leaving!”

Not to worry, he called a raise from the 5s, (the 5s didn’t play a hand the first ten minutes of my down), heads-up and the Flop brought an Ace. Ernie called all the bets and the 5s showed him pocket Aces for a Set. Ernie flipped out, slammed his chips into the rack and left with comments like, “See, Linda, you did it to me!”

Me? Curious as to how he figured he got a bad beat when he never had the best hand.

The second incident. A new $15-$30 game started. Ernie was in the 9s. Kay was in the 10s with a Frog on top of her chips. The Frog was about two inches long and had gems for eyes. The 6 and 7s were young guys that were boisterous and chuckling and just looking at them had me smiling and laughing with them.

The 6s asked Kay, “Would you please cover the frog’s eyes? They are staring right at me!”

She looked straight ahead and ignored him.

The three of us cracked up as he took off again, “I don’t think I can play with those eyes staring at me.”

It was so ridiculous it was hard not to laugh.

Ernie jumped in, “You really shouldn’t be laughing.”

I was laughing so hard I thought I was going to choke. “Ernie, come on. Where’s your sense of humor?”

Ernie, “I don’t think you should say anything to her. Just leave her alone.”

Me, “Ernie, you don’t think that the frog’s eyes bothering him is funny?”

Ernie, “Oh! I didn’t even see the frog.”

So much for poker being a group awareness program.

The third incident. A $15-$30 Holdem game. Marla, a long time acquaintance, from the Montana days, was in the 6s. Ernie was in the 2s.

Marla and I exchanged ‘hello’ and ‘how are you’ and I mentioned I was going to Aruba again to deal the Ultimate Bet Tournament. The 4s jumped in and wanted to know if I was ‘the Linda’…he said the subject of Aruba was what brought me to his attention. Yes…’the Linda’…as in PokerWorks Linda. His name is Steve and he’s from Philadelphia. Very pleasant table manners and he convinced the guy in the 5s that he needed to visit this site too. Thanks, Steve.

Ernie decided it would be a day when he would visit with me. First he started with Suzie leaving the Swing Shift Supervisor position. He said he’d been talking to another dealer earlier in the day and he told the dealer that Suzie was quitting so she could go to work for Steve Wynn when that place opens and the dealer agreed with him. He asked me what I thought.

I replied that she was still going to be a Bellagio employee and would be working our big tournaments and that she was going to work other tournaments like the Ultimate Bet in Aruba. And that I did not believe she was going to work for Steve Wynn.

He retorted, “What makes you think so?”

Me, “She told me so.”

Ernie exclaimed, “OH!”

A few minutes went by and he asked me if I still played poker.

I said, “Yes. Every now and then.”

He asked if I got mad at the dealer like he did.

I said, “No, never even think about it.”

He laughed. And out of a clear blue sky, barked, “You’re wrong about Suzie. She is going to work for Steve Wynn.”

I just smiled. He told me he’d bet me and if she did, I had to buy him dinner. I told him I wouldn’t bet on it and he finished with, “Ok, I’ll buy you dinner.”

He got called to another game, I got pushed and told Steve it was nice meeting him.

Suzie, damn it, you’d better not go to work for Steve Wynn. Although I don’t think Ernie’s buying me dinner had anything to do with a bet.

The anthill effect took over in the poker room last night. People conjestion, noise, confusion, and above all else, the sounds of poker. The night seemed endless. I know I was at each table for one and half hours, not the usual half hour down…or I stepped into a lateral universe. Wish I’d been on drugs, it would have eased the night and I wouldn’t have felt as if I’d been dropped kicked out on the freeway right in front of a long haul truck parade. Is this aging? Ouch! My whole body hurt when I hit the time clock.

Some of the high spots.

I got to visit with Danny/player/reader here on one of my breaks. He’s cute and interesting to talk to…amazingly well rounded and thinking for a youngster that plays high limit poker.

Table 1…of course it was in my way…mostly the usual suspects, $1,000-$2,000 still playing the ‘usual mixed games’, still talking about the celebrity invitational poker event going on at the Palms…the same one they were discussing and taking bets on last night…only tonight was the finale. This Down went off without a hitch. I spent most of it dealing, intent on every detail of the game to keep myself out of trouble, and listening to them. They are pretty funny at times.

Table 2…Sammy F. and Gabriel, 5s, playing $100-$200 Blind NLH. They both had a lady sweater behind them. Sammy was in the 1s and had me laughing. He’s the master of conversational shuck and jive.

They kibitzed back and forth about how one of them had been winning, then the other was winning, now they were about even, and the fact that Sammy had picked up A-A, during their heads-up play, four times. During my down, he picked them up three more times, along with Q-Q, and Presto (5-5). He never got any action on them. Gabriel escaped each time.

Sammy started showing me his hand, “I’m going to show Linda. I know she won’t tell you.”

He was right. I wouldn’t and didn’t. Amazingly, my last hand, he picked up A-A one more time and Gabriel called a small raise pre-flop, around $600 I believe. Sammy bet the Flop and Gabriel folded. Sammy showed me his hand and said, “Don’t tell him now, Linda.”

Incredible. The pocket pairs were wired into his hard drive somewhere, somehow. I talked to him about and hour and a half later when I was out on a break. Eventually he took all the chips.

My next game was $10-$20 NLH. Morris Chestnut was in the 5s…major actor, all around quiet, good looking hunk of a guy. The 9s played a lot of hands and has my vote for the friendliest, best tipping player I’ve seen in a lot of years. I’d dealt to him in the PLO game the night before. He was in the 9s both nights and liked to chatter with me while I was dealing. Fun! That down didn’t seem to last an hour and a half.

A few games later, I hit a $60-$120 Holdem game that went into overdrive when Donna took the 6 s. I’d dealt to her in the $30-$60 game earlier. She posted between the Button and Blind and picked up A-A. Jonathan – 7s, held Q-9 of Clubs. Jean – 8s, had K-K. The 2s, a blustery, noisy, having a fit kind of middle aged, Middle Eastern guy, had been in the 9s and hopped to the 2s on this hand, held 6-8S, the 5s held the 7C, what his other card was, no one knows.

All the raises went in pre-flop. $1,500 in the pot before a card hit the board…don’t worry, the 2s put in the cap with 6-8. The Flop was 6-8-4 of Clubs. All the bets/raises went in on the Flop.

A King peeled off on the Turn. Somewhere in here, Donna gave up her hand…two RED Aces. The 5s kept requesting the 5C as he called each bet/raise.

The River brought a blank. Jonathan bet, Jean called, and so did the 2s. It took me a week to push all the chips to Jonathan.

The 2s jumped up with, “Fuck. I hate this fucking game,” and did a little waltz around his chair and the end of the table. Honestly, it was hard to be upset with him…I laughed most of the time when he started with a ‘tiz’.

Jean was having a verbal montage of grumble because she had been going to leave when she thought the game was short but it filled back up and she’d taken the Big Blind in this hand, only to lose a huge pot with a Set of Kings.

The 2s wanted to move back to the 9s and was out of position to take a hand so I told him to take one more there. He did. Of course he played it and lost it…ATC worked for him. He moved and didn’t want to post, he wanted to ‘rest’. “You made me stay there. I lost another $1,000 because you made me stay there.”

I tried not to laugh, “I did?”

“Yes. You made me stay there and lose more money!”

I slapped myself on the side of the face and exclaimed, “Bitch!”

Everyone at the table roared. I just kept dealing. The 2s really was harmless and great for the game. I got pushed a moment later, gave him a little finger rub on the back as I went by and headed for the time clock. Hell…he might be there tonight waiting for me to force him to play a hand again.

Pass the drugs please…no, I mean literally pass the drugs to someone else. Who needs them with entertainment like that?

Mrs. Lederer, wife of Howard, sister-in-law of Annie Duke, THE Swing Shift Supervisor at Bellagio, but better known to all of us in the poker world as Suzie, has left her position. Her last official shift was Sunday night…yes, she’ll be missed by all of us, players and employees. She isn’t finished with us though. She will be working tournaments (I’ll be working with her in Aruba in a few short weeks) and a few of those will be Bellagio’s big events so she’ll be around.

While dealing $60-$120 Holdem tonight, Richie W. asked me if Suzie was going to become a player. I gave him the above report. Suzie came in on graveyard tonight to help Shana get the feel of the relief Supervisor on Grave. When I told Suzie about the query, she laughed and said they obviously haven’t seen her play.

It feels like an era in poker has passed. We started dealing together at the Mirage a million years ago. Truthfully, I hoped I would retire before she did but alas, I still have that damn mortgage and a hundred other things to take care of…hello time clock.

*****
The $1,000-$2,000 Mixed game was hopping on Table 1 and right in my line-up about 12 a.m. Renee, Jennifer, Abe, David G., Minh, Ralph, Eli E., and Chau…in order from seat 1. They were well heeled and low key, involved in taking bets with each other and giving odds on players placing in a tournament.

I deftly dodged the one and only bullet. Eli lost the first few hands I dealt. He was in the 7s and the Big Blind in an Omaha 8 or Better hand. I took the shuffled deck out of the Shuffle Master and released it to cut and deal just as he lofted two $500 chips into the air that would land on my hands. My peripheral vision is better than bat radar, I saw them sailing in and pulled my hands back. The chips did a dead ‘splat’ onto the green felt. I picked up the deck, cut it, and dealt the hand. Nah, nah, nah, nah! Hell yes he meant to hit me with them!

*****

The $2-$5 Blind NLH game is just phenomenal. I wish I was in the mood to play poker and had the time to cruise through a few sessions of it. The play is unbelievable and you’d have to see it to believe it. Late tonight, still a must move into the main game until 2:30 a.m. The must move broke when four seats opened in the main game. The action was crazy…in both games.

*****

I’ve witnessed some strange bets and calls in the last few months but this one might take the cake. $4-$8 Holdem. The Big Blind had stacks hidden behind stacks of chips in front of him. He was somewhere around 30, made the statement that he learned to play by watching TV.

He started to fold his hand when I said, “Option.”

The player next to him pushed it back to him and told him he was already in. The Flop was something like 9-5-3. He checked. One player bet and everyone folded to him. He called and checked the Turn. The other player checked. He checked the River. The other player bet. He called. They both turned up K-4, no pair and split the pot.

Pretty impressive that he wanted to fold pre-flop, had no draw and no call coming but called the Flop, checked the Turn, and check-called the River for a split pot.

Damn it! Maybe that’s where I went wrong, I should have learned to play by watching TV.

Nothing like starting over. I had posted, read, and hit ‘publish’. Ouch! Silly me for not remembering to copy the post before hitting publish. The Blogger server took a dive and so did my post only the server’s back up and my post has disappeared. So…

What if words wore out from over use, like clothes, shoes, cars, and everything else? If that were the case, the word Fuck should be threadbare and have huge holes in it. It started one night last week when Brian N. and Mike M. were playing heads-up $300-$600 and every other word coming out of Mike’s mouth was fuck. It seemed to run with the whole high limit section and since that’s where I was dealing, it’s all I heard. Nope, when I deal high limit, I never correct their inability to express themselves.

I swear. I swear for reasons…irritation, frustration, anger, and occasionally just for shock factor…after all I’m a grandma. There are times I can put a truck driving logger to shame with my ‘potty mouth’. But I tend to go for long periods of time without swearing and for the most part, I really find it annoying when I listen to people’s endless stream of profanity as their approach to expression and communication.

After spending the night drowning in the worn out word, LemLem (another dealer) and I headed for the Satellite Cage (casino employees cage) and the night’s fresh air. While racking up our chips, another dealer at the cashier window, boldly stomped out the word Fuck in a sentence. LemLem and I exchanged looks. The other dealer was male, in a room with only female cashiers and dealers. Ugh! Common courtesy and manners are dead…stabbed in the heart by mankind.

*****

Twice in one night I got the Big Raspberry Rabble for doing my job. $100-$200 Mixed Games, five handed, in a three-way action pot of Deuce to 7 Triple Draw, Ming turned up his two discards, 7-8, on the second draw. I cautioned, “You shouldn’t expose your cards.”

He was stuck and grumbling, “Why do you care Linda? Why would you say anything?”

I tried, “It’s my job?”

He continued, “The players didn’t say anything, why did you say anything, Linda?”

I said, “The players may object but prefer not to say anything. I’m doing my job.”

He continued, never slowing down, repeat…blip…repeat.

None of the other players came to my defense so I jump started the end of the conversation, “I’m out of line. You’re right. Let’s get on with the game.”

If you’re going to be an idiot, be a quiet one…that might be my new favorite.

Then a sweet little $10-$20 Blind NLH game, chips rocking and rolling in and out of the pots, tons of action, lots of money on the table.

Raised pre-flop, a hand went to three way action on the Flop…three Flush cards. The Turn brought a fourth Flush card, a healthy bet, one fold, one call. The River brought a fifth Flush card with the possibility of a Straight Flush.

One of the players (unknown) commented on who had the Ace high Flush and who had the Straight Flush.

I said, “Please don’t remind them to look for something.”

His eyebrows shot up like he’d just stepped into the elevator on the 10th floor and found the shaft instead of a car. His comments were floating in sarcasm, “You don’t suppose they know what’s on the board do you?” directed right at me.

I replied, “People overlook their hands. Don’t remind them to look for something.”

He was a little stiff but he didn’t say anything else about the hands after that.

I’m surprised that more players don’t speak up about these breaches in etiquette. We have a lot of new players on the scene and a lot of them aren’t familiar with table etiquette but the players mentioned here are experienced players and really know better.

Me? I just do my job and get ready for the Big Raspberry Rabble.

While dealing the $20-$40 Omaha 8 or Better Kill game, somehow in a conversation between Jay and Double A, that really had nothing to do with Wynn’s place opening, Jay asked me if I was going to the ‘new place’ when it opened.

I said, “NO! This will be my last dealing job.”

“Why?”

I answered that I’d opened three poker rooms and never planned to open another one. The conversation jumped to, “How many rooms did you open? “Why wouldn’t you go to the new place?”

I didn’t go into the details, just stood firm with my statement that I didn’t want to open another place. But I do want to go into the details. I’ve heard the words ripple across the table more than once in the last year, “When the new place opens…this place will be a ghost town…I’ll be there playing and never come back here…” and I’ve heard dealers state that they can’t wait to make the move.

Why? What makes anyone think the games and the action and the treatment of players/dealers, etc. will be better at the ‘new place’? Yes…Steve Wynn is an excellent employer and is totally in to customer service but what will he provide that no other poker room provides? Free rake? Free food for everyone? Get real!

My thoughts are this: When a new room opens, it’s filled with mass confusion for the first year or so due to player’s demands and their efforts to make sure the room starts out the way they want it to…coupled with management not being quite sure where their boundaries are on how to handle players that get out of line, high limit players and their ‘rules don’t apply to me’, comp policies, game limits, dealers trying to figure out what/where they stand on reporting a player for bad behavior and getting backing from their supervisors, dealers that have no idea what they’re doing and don’t give customer service, cocktail servers expecting the world to just hand them money because they’re cute and don’t think they should have to work for a living, and all the other people and ingredients it takes to make up a poker room.

The bottom line is that at Bellagio, we have a well oiled machine that runs quite well. We have cut Dealer Abuse down to about 25% and we wouldn’t have that if all the dealers did their job and reported the problems. The management knows what/how/when to say ‘no’ and take charge of all situations…they aren’t skating around trying to figure out whose butt to kiss. Our cocktail servers, most of them, give great customer service and smile while they’re doing it, our regular players are there to play poker and know the ins and outs of the room and they help the game play and watch out for the well being of the game.

I don’t think anything is ever going to be better than Bellagio. We are the original hosts of the WPT. We have the action, in all limits. We have a good team of players and staff. We will still be there, poker galore, even after the ‘new place’ opens.

See you there!

P.S. If you are playing at Bellagio and find a way to improve the game/limit/room, make it a point to talk to a Supervisor and if nothing happens from that, find players that share your wants/wishes and make an appointment to talk to our Poker Room Manager. Sitting at a table complaining won’t get it done.

Back in the box. It’s always an experience, sometimes akin to a soap opera, sometimes stress filled and tense with the desperation of players that can’t handle their emotions, sometimes drab and boring with the repetitive whine of those that JUST CAN FIGURE IT OUT, and sometimes hysterically funny!

Bill L. had me and at least half of the table in stitches in an $8-$16 Holdem game. The other half of the table had to be on medication to sit stone faced through this comedy…they did.

It started about half way through my down when Bill, 2s, took off on an internet/spam thing. He said he couldn’t believe all the spam offering free money. That started it. *giggles and twitters*

He continued with, “They’re even telling me they can’t believe I haven’t picked up my free money yet.”

I jumped in with, “I keep getting emails asking me if I want a bigger penis.” *outrageous laughter here*

“I respond by asking what it’s attached to.” The 5s was laughing so hard, he almost fell off of his chair.

Bill just took off from there. “I did get the penis enlargement. I have it. Ok, now what do I do with it?” *choking, side splitting, gut busting laughs*

Miscellaneous interjections and comments from the ‘laughing side of the table’.

Bill continued, “Then I got all kinds of young girls interested in me. I get emails telling me they want to date me.” *non-stop laughs, the 5s was holding his sides and turning red from lack of oxygen as he spit out every laugh he could find in his body*

The 3s jumped in with, “Bumdate.com.”

The 5s looked at the ‘dead side’ of the table and made the comment there had to be something wrong with them if they couldn’t laugh over this…I agree. I was laughing so hard I could barely deal.

Bill never slowed down. “I’ve got it all, free money, penis enlargement, young girls wanting to date me, and I don’t know what to do with it…I just sit home alone.”

The laughter and statements slowed down from there.

The action in the game was totally insane and never slowed down. The 9s got A-A cracked by J-9 (10-s) in a 3-way, max raised pot and on the next hand, two cards sailed past my nose pitched by the 9s. I had to give the “Hey, hey…set your cards down!” to her.

*****
A first…for me anyway. I dealt a $15-$30 Holdem game, all men except the 5s, Allison. She’s young, thin, nice body, good looking, knows it and was being quizzed by a few of the guys about what she did for a living, what she wanted to do, etc.

During a hand, she stood up and did an exaggerated stretch thing, like ‘hey look at me’. Her hip hugger jeans showed a lot of abdomen and lean hip. She literally pulled the front of the jeans out and stuck her free hand down into the crotch area of the pants, did a few seconds of adjusting and settling, and then strolled away from the table.

The guys played on. One of them made a comment about her and I jumped in with, “I’ve never witnessed a woman do what she just did.”

They all wanted to know WHAT?????

I told them, they couldn’t believe they all missed it and demanded that if she did it again, I point it out to them so they could watch. When she returned, one of the players ratted me out and told her ‘the dealer’ saw her do something. Her expression was startled and questioning as she looked at me. I kept dealing.

The player stood up and aped my version of it. Relief spread over her face and she said something like, “Oh…well sometimes you just have to adjust things…” and continued with the explanation that it might not be proper but after all, it’s a poker room. Umnnnhhh!

The Master of Ceremonies for The First Annual Festival of Mayhem, Disruption, Anxiety and Odd Problems, picked my name from the thousands of unsuspecting entrants that didn’t want to be entered but had no choice. This Festival took place after I reached the campground in Northern Idaho.

It began with cell service from T-Mobile…as in NONE. Sure, you’re thinking, What the heck? you’re on holidays, camping out. Right? There’s just a little more to it than that. I had people to pick up at an airport, 70 miles away, on two different days, and I really wanted to know if they were on their flight and on time. Plus, I left a friend, Vivienne, with keys to my house and the responsibility of watering a few potted plants. I had to drive five miles out to the highway to pick up cell service. A few family members did have service on their phones so it helped.

But the first blast of Disruption came when I received a phone message from Vivienne. One of the station heads in my back yard was on ‘terminal run’ and I had a small pool forming around two trees and a vine. She had no idea how to fix it and if I instructed her to turn the water off to the whole property, the rest of my trees and vines would suffer in the desert heat…hello pool of water. (I do my own yard work, irrigation, and station heads so I wasn’t about to pay someone else to fix it when I could fix it for around $20).

The Mayhem started when I picked my son, Josh, up from the airport and he brought his computer and cell phone but didn’t bring a charger for the cell phone. He couldn’t ‘unplug’ from the rest of the world and had to have his computer on and a way to charge it all the time. He seemed to be totally out of sorts with settling into the campground atmosphere and we clashed more than once.

The night that I picked Stacy up at the airport, I called my son, Darian, or tried to. I planned to have him check out the leaking station head and fix it. Huge problem and worry after I found out he was in the hospital. It’s all history now and he’s improving but I called him at least once a day and sometimes twice a day to see what was going on and how he was doing.

Other family members had problems develop and it just wasn’t the happy, sweet group I remember from the last few years.

The woods had plenty of water this season and we had campfires, along with extra wasps, yellow jackets, black hornets, bald faced hornets (how about that name…do they shave or what?) and they were after meat, everything on our plates. We had old fashioned wasp/hornet traps that caught 100’s of them a day but still they fought for our food on our plates. And mosquitos. These mosquitos failed to note that we had ‘bug spray’ on us or they were wearing gas masks.

The zipper to my tent door blew it’s threads and I ended up hand stitching the whole damn thing shut and cutting out the screen to use it for a door…the condo has lost its appeal.

The young adults seemed to ‘cooler hop’ everyone’s campsite and I felt mine was hit the hardest…the worst of it was they didn’t drink the drink, they took a few sips and left the remains for someone else to pick up. They dug through the ice, marauding and mauling the food and beverages. I had a slight fit with all of them, more than once, but it didn’t seem to change anything.

It just wasn’t the event I looked forward to all year long but I did have a lot of fun with some of the young adults that wanted to play poker. My Great Nephew, Justin, found me first when his family hit camp. He was ecstactic and jumping with the news that he’d watched me deal poker on TV. We set up the poker game for later in the day and ran through a few hands just so they would know how the game of Holdem was played. Justin made a straight flush on the first ‘pretend’ hand. He hardly made a hand after that. I had a sympathy tug in my heart when I watched his young face look at hand after hand and throw them away. He wanted to play so bad but he listened to my advice…I started out by telling him that winning at poker wasn’t about the hands you won, it was about the bets you save. We got into that statement and a few others before we finished our continued playing sessions.

We played for a single 25c blind and the max bet was 25c. Last year we told the young adults they had to buy chips to play…this year they arrived with their small poker stakes and jumped right into the game. It was an experience that I would never give up and even the Master of Ceremonies knew better than to mess with that deal. All in all, the trip was good, life is good. My beauty queen, Kayanna, went home today after spending a month with me.

Time to plug back in to the Vegas lifestyle and the world of poker…see you there!

Barge was in town last week and I got to deal to and renew acquaintenances with Christine AKA Tina, and also met Barry, a fan. They were playing in a $4-$8 Holdem game with none other than the softspoken, quiet Lupe…HA! Barry and Tina were fun and in great spirits. Lupe was…well, Lupe…at least she wasn’t in the card throwing, drinking stage of her game when I went through there and she IS definitely the action. My friend, Scottro, was in town too but we never touched bases, life is too short and too busy at times, darn it!

Short and to the point, this kid’s on the way out of Las Vegas for close to two weeks. The family reunion and camping out awaits. Back soon.

Women! Women in poker! Creating a realistic picture of the feminine side of poker has tortured and tantalized my thoughts for at least an eon…well maybe a year or so. It’s hard to find a femine side since the final product…poker…requires a complex, tangled recipe that starts something like this:

1) Prepare a table covered with green felt, have a dealer standing by, provide drinks and nourishment, run 24/7.

2) Pour all elements of human emotion into a vat the size of the Earth, add people, toss in an ocean of cash, add skill and luck to season, stir gently (there’s so much going on in there, if you ‘beat’ the ingredients, they might explode) sprinkle random cards generously over the top of the mixture, and spoon onto the table.

Congratulations, you’ve just created a poker game. Enjoy!

So…back to women.

Most people dress in a uni-sex fashion and sometimes it’s hard to tell the girls from the guys. I find it rather amusing that men can’t wear tank tops into a poker room (and bathing suits are not permitted) but women can wear anything and it’s acceptable…some of the apparel, or lack of, would border on modeling Victoria’s Secrets.

A small percentage of the women that play, play on the role of being a woman…they use it as a tool against their male opponents. Most women play the game, the way it’s meant to be played. They play in all limits and games; they are a minority but more and more women are stepping into the ‘green felt arena’ with the recent poker explosion.

While I could profile a lot of the women I deal to, one in particular comes to mind. Her name is Mary AKA Mama-mia Mary. I met her years ago at the Mirage. She’s a classic. She’s beautiful…along the lines of the sensual, mysterious beauty. Her attire is always classy (never garrish or noisy, sloppy or unkempt) and she truly represents my idea of WOMAN in any given situation.

She never seems to run out of energy…maybe that’s because she’s a tourist and can’t sleep when she gets here.

She champions the under dog, always defending the dealers if someone says anything rude or out of line to them and a few years ago, she took on the ‘Two plus Two’ discussion board when a thread appeared berating dealers (me).

She plays so many games when she takes a seat in a poker game, that most people get lost trying to keep up with her innuendos and they just give up…some of them call her ‘Mary the Mouth’ because she’s always on them and has a comment about almost everything.

Her verbal exchanges are usually flippant and meant in jest, like:

The phone person paged, “Mary Tyler, phone call, line…”

She looks at me as I’m standing waiting to push into her game, “Will you tell him my name isn’t Tyler.”

I did.

After she finishes the call, I said, “I told him your name wasn’t Tyler but it didn’t really matter because you’ll answer to anything.” **laugh**

Mary, “Especially when I have my clothes off.”

Another line I’ve heard from her when she’s in a pot with a guy and he tells her she made him nervous with a raise…

The guy, “You scared me…”

Mary, “I like my men weak and trembling…”

My view of Mary may not be like anyone else’s. I believe Mary originally played poker more for the social exchange and ‘game playing role’ (that goes hand in hand with a poker game) than trying to beat the game or be a winning player. My thought is that she stepped in to poker to escape the real world and through her experiences at the table, she discovered Mary. The bud has turned into a beautiful blossom.

I discovered Mary a long time ago…

I came off a three day weekend (spent with two of my grandchildren and total bliss) to this…

Monday night at the zoo.  Mama-mia-Mary, a beautiful spirit and person, was at a $20-$40 Stud game that was just breaking apart when I sat down.  We visited through most of my deadspread…more on her another time.   So far, more bliss, but wait…there’s a huge black cloud on the horizon in $4-$8 Holdem just an hour away.

The black cloud was disguised in the form of  Lupe.  Attractive 30ish, drunk on her butt, she was slamming up the game with chips and behaving like a mean mouthed truck driver/logger hours before I got to her game.  Unfortunately, no one stopped her from drinking or from behaving like a jack ass so I got the bad side of the mean mouth when I did something she didn’t like.

She was the star of the show…from her POV…and from a few of the young guys at the table.  Her blouse was unbuttoned to about mid chest and a few of them mentioned that they were waiting for the next one to pop as she straddled the Big Blind and created all kinds of confusion and mayhem in the game.   Everything was fine until she lost a hand.  She was in the 8s and both her cards went into an arial act that would put a trapeze artist to shame.  One them rolled over in the air about four times before it lit in front of the 4s and the other one did a straight, flat dive right into the chips of the 2s. 

As I scooped the cards and pushed the pot, I said, “You can’t throw your cards.  Just set them down.”

She snarled, “Says who?”

Me, “The dealer.  Don’t throw your cards.”

She did an eye rollover that one would have to question whether it was disdain or the alcohol fermenting her brain, waved her hand in the air, and said to the guy in the 9s (found out later his name is Sam), “This fucking bitch is going to be a problem.”

Maybe…just for one half of a second…I thought I would just ease through this…maybe.  I asked, “Did you just call me a bitch?”

She looked across the room like she was being irritated by leaf mold or something that stuck on her shoe.  That did it.

Andy, a chip runner, was doing a fill for the table next to me.  I demanded, “Andy, I want Nate now!”

Andy returned with Dave.  Dave is our front brush, and a three day post that I won’t get into right now, definitely not the Cavalry and I demanded to him, “I want Nate.”

Dave looked at me like a deer in the headlights, “You want Nate…”

Me, “Yes!  I WANT NATE NOW!”

As I finished the hand, Nate arrived.  I told him of the events and he spoke directly to Lupe, “You are going to have to set out for twenty minutes.  You won’t be dealt in until after this dealer leaves and I would advise just taking a walk.”

Lupe threw out her small blind as if her ears were painted on.  Nate pushed it back to her, “You are going to be dealt out…”  his conversation continued with something like this:  Most players that remain at the table can’t remain silent.  If you make another comment to this dealer, you will be asked to leave.  It’s better if you take a walk.  We don’t tolerate abuse to our dealers.

As soon as he walked away, she spouted, “I know I’m never going to tip this woman again!”

I yelled, “NATE, DECISION ON TABLE 16.”

He reappeared and told her she had to leave.  She waved her arm toward the High Limit section and demanded, “Talk to my husband, he’s playing up there.”

Nate, “This isn’t about your husband, this is about you.  You’re going to cash out and leave for the night.”

There was all kinds of noise and mayhem at the table.  The 1s tried to brush it all over, “Lupe, you have to behave…”

Lupe sat there.  Her chips were already in racks and Nate just picked them up and stepped a few feet away from the table.  “Come on, this is your money, let’s go to the cashier.”

She looked at me and said, “You really are a fucking bitch.”

I kept dealing and watching the show.  A crowd had gathered and she finally made it to her feet with Nate prompting her.  After she stood up, it appeared to me that she wanted to pick up one of the empty racks in front of her and throw it at me but instead she barked, “You really are a fucking Cunt!”

I asked, “Well what does that make you, Sweetheart?”

Nate cautioned me not to say anything and she barked one more time, “You are a fucking cunt!”
She left the area, the game semi-settled down to a real poker game, and a few minutes later, she was at the Center Podium with Nate, Security, and her husband…yes, security had to be called.  Feisty little vixen.  She denied everything to Security but Nate stood his ground and she had to leave.  At one point, her husband walked over to the game I was dealing.  I thought he was going to say something to me but he looked around the table, then asked everyone, “Did she leave chips or anything here?”

The guys said, “No!  The floorman took everything.”

He left. 

Everyone  in the game talked about her, her noise, how she lost $500 every hour or so and what a boost she was for the game.  I said she was an embarrassment to herself. 

They agreed that I shouldn’t have to put up with that…gee, thanks, guys.