My first game was $20-$40 Omaha 8 or Better, J.C.P. was in the 2s, blustering and fudding through being a Neanderthal…nothing new for him.

Double A was in the 1s and maintaining his usual charming, warm attitude towards everyone and anyone…that’s why I like this guy so much. At one point, Jeff P. was walking towards the table and Double A said, “Here comes your friend, Linda.”

Without looking up, I asked, “Who that would be?”

He replied, “Jeff.”

I chuckled and said, “I have a lot of friends, I just wanted to know which one.”

Double A gave me a refresher on being in the box, it was well put, and sincerely meant. He explained that all poker players are my friend, because without them being in a chair, there would be no game. On the friend part I disagree, on the other part, I totally agree.

I got pushed right into Hell for my next game. Phil I. – 2s, Jennifer – 3s, Todd B. – 4s, Barry G. – 6s, David B. – 7s, Curtis B. – 8s.

No one seemed happy but didn’t over react to anything…except Jennifer and Curtis. They were wound tighter than an Eight Day Clock. Jennifer was snipping cards and appeared to be ready to blow.

Curtis lost a hand and grumbled, “If one of them ever looks at me when I don’t tip them, I’m going to puke.” Repeat…repeat…repeat.

No reason for me to even reply to that one, he’s stepped into a realm that only the haunted and lost frequent. He burned the roadmap years ago…he can’t get out…

On to $100-$200 Holdem, they were jamming. Svi was in this game. He’s extremely funny and has the greatest smile. We still laugh over the night he was so drunk he could hardly sit in his chair, (a few years ago), and while dealing to him, he looked up at me with a crooked smile, barely able to focus on my face, and said, “I’m stuck in this game, Linda. I know you’re thinking, as good as he plays, how can that be?”

And then I found a little island of life in the middle of all the high limit. It was a friendly crew…joined together…just to laugh and play poker. Hello $4-$8 Holdem.

That was my last breath of fresh air…the rest of the night was all high limit. At 1 a.m. I wondered if I could make it through another two hours. My brain was fried, served on a platter without condiments, and I’d listened to the ‘microphone wars’ and poker room noise pound in an incessant drilling beat for so long now, that I feared I would go into withdrawal and my head would burst if I stepped out into the fresh and silent night air. So I slept under Table 16 and until I got kicked by players sitting down at a new game in the morning. NOT!

I had an amazing revelation during my first down tonight. I believe in Karma, spiritual growth and enlightenment, and reincarnation. Continue reading Karma bits and bites →

Poker, Poker, Poker! Twenty tables in the pit, 30 in the room, 50 tables jamming and ramming, give or take a few. The tables in the pit are licensed for regular games and it enhances the ‘ring game’ effect. I started in the pit tonight….sounds a little strange, even to me. Poker and the rest of the Casino are two totally different worlds. You might have to be there to get the full, mind boggling effect of it, but the ‘pit’ and ‘poker’ are as different as night and day.

There were only 422 entries in the No Limit Holdem Event. ONLY???? It’s huge! What a turnout.

Amazingly, a few of the players I dealt to tonight, the last time I dealt to them was in Aruba. Barry Shulman was at the final table in Aruba’s Ultimate Bet/WPT Tournament and tonight he made the final table. Sweet! He’s always cordial, easy to get along with, and just comes to play. Charlie is another one. Unfortunately he went to the rail when I was dealing…but that’s poker.

Another side of poker…I always am intrigued by people, why they play, how they feel about it, what their long term goals are with it or if it’s just a way to pass time and share a social structure.

Enter Ayad and Ema, brothers from Cleveland. They are gorgeous, healthy hunks, flashing eyes, well built/kept bodies, anger that can rage in a heart beat and forgiveness that replaces everything in the next few seconds. They light up the tables, no matter what limit they play.

I almost died laughing, about a month ago, when I sat down to deal a $30-$60 Holdem game and Ema was in the 2s. I stated, “Time collection,” He looked at me and went into this dialogue as he paid time, “Linda, I’m going to leave and take a shower, relax and shave, when I come back…I’m going to order wine…” his gaze was fixed on me as if I was the last human on Earth and he wanted me to BE there when he returned.

I went with, “Ok…I’ll wait here.”

It sounded as if he was making a date with me. He wasn’t. He was including/explaining to me what he planned to do.

Sometimes when I’ve sat down to deal, a player will tell me that ‘he’, in reference to Ema, will get mad at me if he loses. I just laugh, “No he won’t.”

He calls me ‘sweetheart’ and I feel the same way about him. He’s wonderful to have in a game and to deal to…action, action, action, and he’s very good to me.

His brother, Ayad, is just like Ema. They love life, they work hard, they play hard when they come to Vegas, and they are too kind.

I sat a Dead Spread in the tournament area and Ayad came to visit with me. He was seriously bummed because he had busted out of the tournament fairly early. He started out strong and won, breaking two players in the same hand and felt that he would win the whole damn thing.

Enter Cowboy! How to describe this person…no teeth is the first thing that comes to mind. A smoker, railbird, plays occasionally when he’s got a windfall or sucker to put him a game…$3-$6 and $4-$8…hangs on anyone’s coat tails that will tolerate him, always looking for a hand out, dealt at Binion’s during the WSOP last year, gives back rubs to players in hopes of getting hand out…yes, he dresses like a cowboy, hat and all. Come on! I didn’t say it made him a bad person. It’s just a portrait of a terminal railbird.

While Ayad is explaining the play of the hand that put him out of the tournament, Cowboy hits him up for $10. Ayad pulls out a $100 bill and gives it to Cowboy, asking him to bring him change. After Cowboy leaves for change, Ayad explains that he always makes sure Cowboy has something to eat…whenever he’s in town that is. Ayad feels bad for Cowboy.

Cowboy returns and gives the change to Ayad…Ayad is telling me of other tales of the kindness of his heart and giving to the degenerates in Vegas and Cowboy throws in a, “Him and his brother sure are good to me.”

I want to puke. My first and last raging thought is get a job, get a life, get the fuck out of here! I have never understood how anyone can mooch, bum, beg, and keep doing it. I would clean toilets and dig ditches before I expected someone to hand me money every time I saw them.

I love the Ayads and the Emas in the respect that they give from the heart…possibly there’s something wrong with my head…anyway, some of these people…I hope I don’t see them there. As in Cowboy!!!!

Good God! Major tournament doings will be going on tonight at work. I’m at the end of my Sunday night, it’s almost 7 a.m. and I’m having a glass of…you guessed it…wine…Umhhh!!

Truthfully, tournaments are very hard on me. Noise and confusion, microphones doing a dancing, competitive, nonstop duel, hour after hour, body heat and confusion, table changes, people waiting in line to be put on lists that are 30 and 40 names long, and every other game is high limit.
There’s no way out for me, it’s like looking for an escape hatch in a submarine when you’re 2,000 leagues under the sea. S-C-A-R-Y!!! But, I’ll be there. Along with all the regular room dealers and a whole batch of new ones.

Have mercy on us dealers, kids! I say this because I played on Friday night and had a few ‘new’ dealers come through my table. It was pretty sad. The guy on my left wanted to jump down their throat but how would the new dealer know the room protocol and rules? They get hired and slammed into the line-up. I’ve always felt that when I’m sitting in the ‘box’ and you bite my head off over rule and protocol, it doesn’t make the game run any smoother.

If you know something I don’t…doubtful as hell…but if you do, just approach me with your knowledge and I’m very happy to work with it. Biting at me doesn’t make the game any better and it’s going to put me on defense which means I could be more prone to making a mistake because I’m trying to dance around your ‘grouchy ass’.

This tournament should be huge, our Friday’s at 5 had 168 entrants with a prize pool of $81,480…damn big.

I’m on the run, sleep is waiting, and so are all of you…when I clock in tonight. Good Luck on all of your endeavors…hope to see you at the final table.

Days just run into other days, time warps move in and out of the conscious, focused mind, sifting away all the clutter and debris that seemed so important yesterday…presenting a fresh, clean horizon that one can only approach when the soul finds forgiveness of self and fellow man.
I drift into each new day, looking for the best in my fellow man, never being disappointed if I don’t find it, just logging the poor soul in my data base…allowing them to be where they are and myself to move past that bump in the road without jolting my inner peace.

I gave up trying to be a ‘nurse’ a long time ago. I nurse myself when I’m wounded and tired, weak and easy prey, salvaging some inner energy for my friends and people that I know will use my strength to improve themselves and never discard what I give lightly or take it for granted.

So a time of peace and quiet comes to an end…

Poker Time!

Thanksgiving Day found me rolling out of bed after drinking my Thanksgiving Day Feast in a long stemmed glass…finishing the last one somewhere around 8 a.m. Too early for you sissies? Well spend the night with me sometime and you might be ready for that early a.m. little glass of wine, followed by another, and another.

The room was busy, but not quite as busy as I thought it would be. Some people ate too much, some people didn’t eat enough…in my case, I didn’t drink enough. Ha!

I played twice this week. No explanation for the first play. Maybe there were too many dealers and not enough games…dead spreads looming on the horizon…or just tired of dealing. I’ve been on a very good behavior program for the last seven to eight months, spent almost all of my shifts in the box, give or take a few E/O’s.

My lower back was ‘killing me’ for some reason. It started yesterday and hadn’t improved by the time I went to work…please catch up, it’s Friday now. I signed up to E/O and play. I ended up playing for numerous hours. I won one hand, made quad Treys. That was about the size of it. I finally gave up and found the escape hatch about 12 a.m.

But…up until that point:

There are 12 tables in the pit area, adjacent to the poker room. The Fridays at Five Tournament was held out there. Around 8 p.m. games were being started in the pit. Yes…live games. The tables are licensed this time and games, plus tournament/satellites will be held out there also. That gives us approximately 42 tables for our card room.

The room was a screaming, noisy nightmare of microphones, bodies, heat, people, confusion, mumble jumble…and the goods news? It’s going to get worse…or better, depending on which side of the coin you’re on.

We have a ‘big’…’Big’…’BIg’…’BIG’ tournament coming up.

On the funny side of poker…a little $100-$200 Holdem Game. The game is full but the notables are: 1s – Ming, 3s – Gregg, 6s – Lee, and Ritchie W. drifting in to visit with Ming and Lee, from another game. They are gabbing and jabbing in…Chinese of course!

Grave Yard has taken control…Swing Shift Supervisors have left the building. Tony is standing behind me when the cry goes up, “We want the foreign language stopped.”

Some of the players contend that it goes on nightly. Some of the players contend that it goes on before, during, and after a hand. The major problem is that the players don’t want it go on at all.
Gregg says he can’t think around the noise and it makes him crazy. Hysterical!

Ming tries to go into the English standard to express himself. Gregg does a mock move with hands and shoulders, “What he’s trying to say is: ‘Emhhh, donnnn dooo, mugghhh givvhhee…” everyone cracks up, including me.

Tony comes back with the report that only English can be spoken at the table. Ming says somethings and Gregg takes off on it.

Ming finishes my down with, “When I speak English, he laugh me. When I speak Chinese, he complain me!”

Hey…ain’t that the way it is…

See You there!

Thanksgiving, or Happy Bird Day, looms just over the horizon. Work for some of us, a four-day weekend for others. Eat as much as you want…just don’t groan about it later. Remember you did it to yourself. Enjoy…most of all…enjoy. Drive safe and stay well.

*****

Norman. A few years ago, I asked him if he was going to cook the turkey. He said, “No. I’m staying home. It’s a day of mourning for all the turkeys that die.”

Last night he asked me what made cocktail waitresses different from other employees. I queried, “They belong to a union?”

He laughed over that one and finished with, “They don’t have to cover their asses.”

*****

I played on shift…a huge influx of new dealers. Our big tournament starts in a few days and management is making sure we have plenty of them. I sat in a $4-$8 Holdem game through most of my shift, managed to eke out a few $$ after having Aces, Kings, and Queens beat. The game was great, just lock and load, fasten your seat belt, and play your own hand because you could never give them credit for having anything…most of them anyway.

I got to visit with Sam from Alaska, he comes in about five or six times a year, and Mark, another player that’s been on the scene for a lot of years but I’ve never played in a game with him and never had a chance to just ‘chit-chat’ before. It was fun.

I got called into the line-up to push two games and then back out to play. The first game was $30-$60 Holdem, I sat down, changed the deck, announced, “Time Pot.”

Four players pounced on me, “This is a new game, we aren’t paying time, why would you think we’d pay time?…blah….blah….blah.”

I called for the Floor Person. Jimmy jumped down my throat with his version of, ‘We aren’t paying time. This is a new game’. I said, “Fine, just let me do my job.”

I called for a Floor Person again. The Floor was on their way and Jimmy kept giving me heat. I said, “Just let me do my job. I announce ‘time pot’, you say it won’t be one, I call the Floor, and they give me the decision.”

He said something like, “You have to get the last word in don’t you.”

Shit! It has nothing to do with the last word. It has to do with doing my job. I really don’t care if ‘time’ is passed or not, it’s just not my decision.

Then I went to deal a $100-$200 Holdem game. Terry was in the 4s. She’s something else. She made a comment when I sat down about how I might push her a pot or something that pertained to the fact that she wanted to win…I didn’t catch it all and didn’t even get into it.

I did push her several pots. She made a big show of pulling out a small stack of $5 and $1 chips, that were rubber banded together, with the statement, “Special dealers get a tip from my special stack,” with that she threw me a $1 chip.

Wow! I’m so special. I got a piece of gristle with a speech tied to it. Sorry…that’s just my sick sense of humor coming out here.

Well back to the laughs and fun of the $4-$8 game after I got pushed. Yoo Hoo!!!

When I went in to work, I managed to find Suzie in the office alone for a moment.  I asked her if Andy had played over the weekend.  Yes.  He had played Gabe again on Saturday and Sunday, and somewhere in there he played Johnny Chan again, and Lee Salem.  Continue reading Andy Beal is playing with non-corporation players →

Something that’s always made me crazy…even wrote a “Poker Tale” about it some years ago…and it happens all the time, everyday in one game or another.

A week or so ago, I’m dealing to Adrian. He’s in the 1s, sitting facing me, watching an overhead TV, completely disinterested in the fact that a poker game is taking place and his money’s at stake. He looks at his hand and then carelessly leaves it lay out a few inches in front of him…his gaze and attention returns to the TV.

The first few hands, I looked at him, he gave no visible signs of life, and I mucked his hand. Somewhere around the fifth or sixth time it happened, I pointedly asked, “What would you like to do?”

He mumble, jumbled something like, “Take it!”

I told him he would have to be in control of his hand. He told me was. I told him he wasn’t and I wasn’t going to guess if he wanted to play or not. He said his hand was in front of him. I agreed and told him that he would have to be in possession of it and fold when the action came to him. He stated, twice, “Give me a button then.”

I did. He was watching TV and I threw a ‘Yellow Button’ in front of him which means he’s sitting out.

As soon as I dealt him out, he questioned me as to why I didn’t deal him a hand. I told him he’d ask for a Button, he said he didn’t and that his cards were always in front of him.

I called for a Decision. The woman in the 4s has never been happy with me…a previous post about a player named Angel and her wanting to see his cards when they hit the muck…she did an exasperated shoulder shrug and commented about my always causing a problem. I ignored her.

Jon came to make the decision. I told him that I had asked Adrian to take control of his cards until the action came to him. Adrian told Jon that I had just elected to deal him out. I countered with, “You said, ‘Give me a button then’.”

He replied that he had stated his cards were always in front of him.

I stated, “I wouldn’t have dealt you out unless you asked for a button.”

He implied that he’d never said anything about a button. Jon told me to deal him in and told Adrian that we expected ‘forward motion’ from a player.

The down side of it is that the player in the 4s in this game, was guilty of doing the same thing a few nights ago, and I tried to get him to take control of his cards and act in turn.

Dave was in the 10s and we had a short conversation about how, no matter how much you try, some of these people are just not trainable. I still believe that I have to try…otherwise I wouldn’t be me.

The Big Game with Andy Beal:

When I went in to work, I managed to find Suzie in the office alone for a moment. I asked her if Andy had played over the weekend. Yes. He had played Gabe Kaplan again on Saturday and Sunday, and somewhere in there he played Johnny Chan and Lee Salem. I asked if the corporation was behind these players and she said no, but someone had put up money for them to play Andy. I left it at that.

Andy’s hooked. There’s no way he can walk away from the game.

The Big Game with Andy Beal:

I had the feeling that Andy would be in the room and I would get a chance to visit with him. I had my business card out, with my phone # on the back in my shirt pocket, wanting to hand it to him in the event he would give me a ‘poker interview’. My intuition paid off. I crossed his path as he was heading for his room, he was alone and had his baseball cap, upside down, like a bowl, cupped in his hands. He looked horribly dejected and I was sure what was left of his chips from today’s play were carried in the cap. Yesterday he needed security to escort him and the ‘carrying tray’ to the Casino Cage, today he could carry it in his cap. Ugh!

I stopped him as he was oblivious to anyone walking by. He said ‘hello’ and explained that he’d had one of the worst days ever. I asked him if he would give me a poker interview, not on his wins or losses, but just the general on why he started playing, how he felt about it, etc.

He said he would if he had anything exciting to talk about but he felt that he might never play again. He said Gabe Kaplan had caught every card he needed, no matter what it was, and beat him up.

I agreed that poker could be pretty brutal and that it was hard to overcome some of mental stress involved in playing.
He agreed and said that he was thinking about giving it up and just going back to banking because that was something he understood.
I pursued the interview, he hemmed and hawed, I followed with, “Not right now then, it’s not a good idea!”

He agreed, he took my card and dropped it into his hat. He continued with how badly he’d been beat and he just couldn’t believe it.

I told him I was rooting for him. I understood how much the game could affect a person mentally. I then said, “Well give me a hug, I’ve got to go to work.”

He did give me a hug and told me to have a good night.