Category Archives: Dear Diary

Serving Brain Damage

One of my favorite cocktail waitresses moved around our table taking orders. She turned around and accidentally bumped the hat of the player in the 10 seat (Ritchie) with the edge of her tray.

She instantly apologized, he said it was ok, that’s why he wears the hat. The whole right half of the table was laughing – including Ritchie – she looked at me and mouthed, “I’m so sorry!”

The player in the 1s asked, “Hey, what are you doing?”

She recovered quickly, stating, “Oh, I’m just trying to serve Brain Damage. Anybody want one?”

The player in the 1 seat had missed everything…he looked up at her and said, “Yeah. I’ll try one, what’s in it?”

February 28, 2001

I wasn’t dealing when this happened but it was heard from a very reliable source. The game was $400-$800 stud.

First let’s discuss high limit etiquette. Slow rolling is a horrible, terrible, mean, nasty, rotten thing to do to your fellow players – kind of like gouging their eyes out after you’ve beaten them to a pulp. Also offering to “Chop” means that you’re really intending on doing it – well maybe you’re hoping your opponent will say “NO”, so it’s another form of appearing weak with the best hand. Yes, in high limit games, if no one objects, two players can agree to split the pot without showing down a hand.

Both of these “Big Bad Baddies” were done by the same player and it was intentional. So much for etiquette, eh?

Notaris held rolled up Q-Q-Q and asked the other player for a chop. The other player said, “Ok.”

Things went haywire, Notaris changed his mind – saying no to the chop after he offered it. The dealer called the floor person and it was chopped after a lengthy ordeal where another player came from another game to translate for Notaris – he speaks mainly Russian.

Then a few days later, Notaris went to the river with another player, stating to the player, “Straight’s good!”

The other player turned over a straight. Notaris turned over one card at a time and revealed a flush.

Unbelievable…what will happen next? Will they start being nice to dealers?

February 21, 2001

It’s been a nightmare run for the last three weeks of play. Sure, it’s part of the long term play but I still hate it. That part about getting beat by a two or three card out gets really old along into the 100th hour of play. It seems to be terminal and I start wondering if this is how the rest of my poker playing career will go.

A few days ago I left my sanity and sense of reason laying under table 17 – my chips were on top of the table distributed in other player’s stacks – when I flopped the nut flush and had one end of the straight flush blocked. I had the A-10 of Spades, the board was 9-7-3 of spades. Well, alrighty then, you take it 6-8 of spades. The one card out got me – just like the card had eyes.

I was calm about it. My left eye didn’t twitch or jerk out of its socket. I didn’t curse or throw my cards, just calmly picked up my chips and hit the window.
I did talk to myself all the way home. I even talked to myself after I got home. I’m convinced there is a card fairy and if you ever get on the bad side of that little imp, you’re going to suffer.

February, 2001

I looked up to see a new face playing in the high limit area last week. There were two other players at the table and judging by the limits they play, my guess would be the game was $500-$1000 or something to that nature.

I dealt to the stranger the following night. A friendly little game of $1,000-$2,000 hold’em. It was four handed. The stranger looked up at me and asked me about the area I’m from – our name tags list a city and state. We did a little bit of small talk off and on while I was dealing that set. He was friendly, clean cut, enjoying the game…the fact that he was winning may have had something to do with it.

The Stranger mentioned that he used to play Blackjack and now found out he liked poker. Uhmmmmmm! One of the players told him that if they kept the game going, other players would come in. The Stranger said he would only play another hour because his time schedule was three hours ahead of ours. The other three players were unified as in – hey no problem, that’s cool, etc., etc., etc.

The following night I played on shift. No silly, not that limit. I saw the Stranger in the game with the same three players and suddenly hawks swooped down out of thin air, heard one of them literally flew in from CA when they got wind of the Stranger learning poker.

The game was full in a heartbeat…with a waiting list. The limit $3,000-$6,000. Wonder if the Stranger will ever be back.

February 18, 2001

Shoot, I’ve been a very, very bad kid about keeping up with my Diary. I took a two weeks vacation from work and then went in and begged for a week leave of absence…got it!

Then when I returned to work two weeks ago, I became a degenerate poker player, meaning that I had a job that I could work but I blew it off to play. The room was pretty quiet and there was plenty of slack for a dealer that would rather sit in the player’s seat. That was me 🙂

It wasn’t pretty. One of the worst losing streaks I can remember in years – Yes, my friends, I know we all have them but this one happened to me.

I now hate poker – for the 900th time – and will return to dealing this coming week. I also will return to updating and finding interesting news for this site…even if it has to come from writing it myself.

I promise.

December 27, 2000

High limit and Santa Claus is in town…you’d have to be a dealer to know what that means. Our Santa Claus is Adib M. He’s the Santa of any sweater that sits behind him also. Every time he wins a pot, the sweater gets $25-$50. It’s almost a war to see who gets to sit with him. He is the poker dealer’s dream…he’s playing higher than normal and everyone wants a chance to deal to him – even the players. If he takes a walk during my down and comes back to see me leaving the game, he gives me $200 just for showing up. How the hell can’t I want this guy to win every pot.

This really isn’t about him…but he’s playing the game that this post is all about. Even though I love to have Santa in my game, I know that he’s only there a few times a year and I have regular players that must be dealt to/with and I have to do the best job possible or I’m going to suffer in the long run.

The game is $300/$600 stud…ante $75.00 and the bring-in is $100.00. The game normally runs eight handed but tonight it’s nine handed…why, you ask? Because if a real ‘live one’ shows up, an extra chair is pulled in for them, even if there’s a list, they take precedence over the list. Hey and you thought that them that has the gold don’t make the rules. Yeah, baby!

This game is a firecracker. One pot is six way action with all the raises – three way action on 6th Street – a bet, raise, and re-raise on the river. The pot’s so big that I couldn’t shove it with a snow plough. Don’t worry, I get stiffed. Santa raised on the river and got re-raised and shown a full house. That pot could’ve been worth $200 or more but it’s worth zip where it landed.

But still this isn’t about tipping…it’s about doing my job and doing it well. One hand comes to 6th street with three players involved. It’s been raised, re-raised, etc., etc. all the way down. The Cuckoo has been high all the way with an Ace high showing – on 6th, he loses that status to an Ace with a higher kicker.

I called the high card and Cuckoo checked, (even though he’s not high). The high card, (Santa), checked. The next player checked and now the Cuckoo tried to bet. Luckily the shift supervisor was standing behind me. When the Cuckoo tried to bet, I said, “You checked!”

He started in with me.

I said, “You checked out of turn, they checked, it’s a check.”

He looked over my shoulder at the Shift Supervisor for verification and got it. I burned and turned the last down card to each player.

The long and short of it, Cuckoo had three Aces and won the pot.

I got pushed by the new dealer. Stiffed, Yes? Did I do my job well? Yes.

Two nights later, I walked through the casino, returning from a break. Cuckoo passed me, mumbling, “…check, I checked!”

I said, “Get the hell out of here, of course you checked.”

Does this mean that when it’s in your favor, I’m supposed to forget the rules and when it’s not, I’m supposed to remember them? Yeah, Baby! Not in this lifetime.

December 19, 2000

I’m not happy at this particular writing. I finished my shift a few hours early as the room was really quiet. Decided that I would sit down in a $4-$8 limit holdem game and try to make the extra $$’s that the shift didn’t quite fulfill.

Sat down in a game that had two empty seats…asked for a seat change to get away from a smoker and I also like the end seats because I can watch all the action, stretch my legs and have a little elbow room…*sigh*

Got my seat change, two or three dealers came and went, the $4-$8 limit game next to us lost a few players and they had three seats open…we had two with one player that had gone broke, left a lock up and was returning.

Super Slick – at the next table – started in with, “Hey, Linda, we’ve got 3 seats open, why don’t you draw to come over here?”

I said, “Why don’t you draw? I like short handed games.”

We lost another player and one of our players walked. Super Slick started again…why didn’t we draw for seating? Again I told him to draw as I like short handed games. Slick informed me he didn’t…oh, well.

Then another player at Slick’s table took up the cry, “Draw for seats and come over here!”

The dealer at Slick’s table got involved when I said I didn’t want to draw, I wanted to play. The dealer was trying to be funny and said to me, “Leave my players alone!”

I couldn’t convince anyone that we had two good games with seven players each, so I just stopped trying. Now, thanks to Slick and his sidekick and the dealer’s involvement, two players at my table looked around and realized that it really was short handed. They put their chips in racks and left.

The walker at my table returned and wanted to draw for seats at another table. The Sidekick came over and tried to talk me into drawing also…no way I could convince any of these people that they are dead wrong in trying to break up a game. I put my chips in a rack and headed for home without drawing.

I was unhappy with all of it, including the dealer’s involvement. Some days you just have to give up the battle and come back another day…but while I’m doing that, bet your wondering why I call him Super Slick. Well ok, here it is in a nutshell.

He thinks he’s smooth. If he’s got the worst hand, he looks at you and innocently asks, “Just you and me? I check!” If he’s got the best of it, you’re paying because he’s betting.

He takes every shot he can get and cries long, hard, and continuously when he’s getting beat. Oh yeah, the cocktail waitress never gets more than $0.50 if she brings him three drinks at a time and if the dealer pushes him a $9,000,000 pot, it’s worth $0.50.

Just who I want to sit in a game with – N-O-O-OT!