A recap…the room is quiet but George (the Isle of Crete) is still here. Someone said he bought a house in Vegas. I have a friend that plays Pot Limit Omaha in London all the time and we chat online. My friend told me that George had been playing a lot in London and bought a house there too. All in all, I hope he goes somewhere soon. I dealt to him a few nights ago and he muttered and mumbled at me and gave me the look until the end of my down when I pushed him several large pots but don’t worry, he didn’t give me credit when he won…only when he loses. Good job, George!
Tonight I dealt a three handed game on Table 1, $1,000-$2,000 mixed games with Jennifer, Eli E., and Gustavo AKA Gus, (winner of the First World Poker Tour Tournament hosted by Bellagio). At the very end of my down, Todd B., and Freddie AKA Kassem, (3rd place in the World Poker Tour Tournament), came skipping up from Table 4, where they had been playing with George, and joined the game. They both stated that George told them they were cheating.
Of course they broke the game on Table 4 when they left and George had no choice but to join them later if he wanted to play…and he did. Poor George, being cheated and all that and then having to put up with us bad dealers that deal the cards right off the top of the deck. Hell…what that poor man goes through just to play poker.
A few nights ago I dealt $4-$8 H and the player in the 3s was convinced that everything was my fault. He won a huge pot with a set of Queens and I guess I was ‘OK’ then but I lost my status in the next few hands. He flopped Kings and 4′s with K-4 OFF and lost it because the board paired on the River and the real hand, A-A, won the pot. He did the ‘she put up the God Damned pair and cost me the pot’ over and over as he gestured wildly at me.
It was his small blind and he sat back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, and glared at me. I asked for his small blind and he continued to glare. I said, “Glaring won’t change a thing, it’s still your small blind.”
He said, “I’m not looking at you, I’m looking at him,” as he pointed down the table.
Yeah right, Buddy.
He threw in the $2 and then sat back in his chair again with his cards up against his chips. When the action returned to him, I waited a moment and then asked, “Sir, would you like to call?”
He sat there, resolute in his insanity that I had really put a bad beat on him. The player next to him asked him if he wanted to call. He sat there.
I said, “Please push your cards in if you’re not going to call.”
He flicked them 1/4 of an inch and sat there. The 3,4,7, and 8 are the hardest seats to reach in a Holdem game.
I said, “When I deal, I deliver your cards to you. When you fold, you push them into me.”
I smiled right at him as I said it. In a huff and with exasperation, he pushed them at me.
Still looking at him, I said, “The only one that you’re making look bad here is you, so settle down and play the game.”
He did. Damn, I don’t know why I don’t get paid extra for babysitting and psychology lessons.