Something strange must be going on in my brain. I’m not racing in to sign the E/O list every night…well…er…ah…except on Thursdays. I’ve actually had a three-day weekend, every week for the last three weeks. Don’t think it ain’t heaven when my shift supervisor asks me if I want Friday off. I jump on the opportunity like a duck on a june bug.
But let me get right into the Tuesday night poker scene. The room was pretty damn well deserted. I started on 16B (any table with a ‘b’ behind it is a break table), headed down to Mangia (the help’s hall) and had a burger and actually sat with three other dealers…they joined my table, one at a time. I normally dine and sit alone. I’m not big on dealer noise and grief so I chose to sit alone. Yes…I’m having a wee bit of a problem with dealers right now. I don’t want to hear from most of them. They are annoying and they seem to enjoy hanging out in clusters and announcing their non-tip downs and player grievances…like things will change if they sit around and talk about it.
So, without further ado, let’s get right into Tuesday night poker. One of our dealers, mentioned before on these pages, Allegra, is unbelievable to deal to. She always plays $4-8 H. She’s always the live one. She always does everything she shouldn’t do as a player and being a dealer, one would think she would know better. It just ain’t so. She jumped to three different seats during my down and with a seat open and a player coming in, if the new player wants to post, the player wanting the seat change must move immediately. She appeared to be angry when I told her she has to move now instead of waiting a few hands. She must know the rule…she’s been at Bellagio since opening. She plays every hand. She checks out of turn. She folds out of turn. She tells other players what she has, with three or more way action. No matter how many times I’ve cautioned her, she still does all of the above.
She ends up in the 1s. I can see her cards – 10-4 off suit. She’s heads-up with the 2s. On the River, they both check. They show each other their cards. He lays 4-4 face up on the table. He knows he’s beat because she has a pair of 10′s with the cards on the board. But still…he shows his hand. She takes her 4 and puts it with his 4′s and turns her 10 face down. WTF????
I snort, “Allegra, come on!”
She innocently says, “He’s folding.”
I say, “He turned his hand face up on the table. If you want the pot, you have to turn yours face up on the table.”
“O-h-h-h-h…he said he was folding,” as she turns up the damn 10.
I hate – do you hear me – HATE to deal to her.
I never cut her any slack and always stop her when she tries to do something out of turn. Consequently, most of the time, she doesn’t like to play when I deal because I won’t let her get away with anything or I’m not her lucky dealer, or the stars aren’t aligned, or whatever the case may be.
Right at the end of my down, I asked for her blind, she indifferently acted like I had an eye in the middle of my forehead and couldn’t speak coherently as she snipped her finger back and forth across the felt and said, “Deal me out.”
I put a missed blind button in front of her, the 2s posted the BB, and then she realized a push was coming through – I wasn’t going to be dealing to her in another minute – so she said, “Deal me in,” and threw in her blind.
Kee-rist! I was happier than she was that I was getting pushed.
Then I was off to a $15-30 H game. Dorothy was in the 10s. I hadn’t dealt to her in a very long time…possibly two to three years. I was sorry to be dealing to her now. She has that ‘over 50′ red hair that looks like it would break and crumble into dust if you touch it. She’s not in good health and is a rather large woman. She’s also a perpetual whiner and it’s always the dealer that makes her win or lose.
The game was fairly active, Dorothy lost a few hands, nothing monumental, but she wasn’t happy. The 9s left and Dorothy made the statement that her legs were swollen, she would put her feet up on the chair and if someone came to take the seat, she’d move her feet. Well…ok!
She posted her BB and lost that hand. She then told me to deal her out. She had lost $400 with me dealing to her and she couldn’t afford to lose her money. I gave her a missed SB Button and continued to deal.
About 10 minutes later she hit my arm…damn I’m glad that red, brittle hair isn’t catching, I sure as hell don’t want it…and went on to tell me that she didn’t want me to take it personally that she was sitting out while I was dealing. She just knew that she couldn’t win with some dealers. And it went on and on and on.
The 6s was a little cutie and he was giving me eye contact now…it was almost ‘roll your eyes’ eye contact because you can’t believe someone can really say all that with a straight face. I wanted to fall off my chair laughing as I listened to her and watched him.
I finally said, “I remember you, Dorothy. I just haven’t seen you in a long time.”
A minute later and the 8s told Dorothy that he knew exactly what she was talking about. Sometimes he just took a walk because he knew he would lose with a dealer. D-A-M-N!!! I should be playing in a game with these people when I’m dealing…I’d be stacking their chips.
I got pushed. My next game was the Dealer Nightmare game…$40-80 Mixed. It’s like dealing a Dead Spread. The same group of players trying to beat each other’s bankroll.
Off to $10-20 NLH and then a $30-60 H game that was in complete chaos from the beginning of my down to the end. Seat changes, players leaving, no one coming in, requests for table transfers, short handed…ugh, double ugh, triple ugh. Jo was in the 5s. I had to laugh. She used to deal at the Gold Coast. I played in her games all the time. She used to deal to me, now I deal to her. Life has a way of turning everything around.
The straw that should have broke the camel’s back (but all it did was leave me laughing my ass off) was a $20-40 Stud game. The line-up? Gus – shoot the dealer but use a pistol instead of a shotgun so she’ll live through it – was in the 4s. None other than Creep Freak Hall of Famer, Marty C. in the 5s. These two were both in this post.
Gus wasn’t happy after about the fifth hand I dealt. He was muttering and mumbling in Greek or some language I didn’t understand…but it was directed at me.
The 1s was new to the game, I knew everyone else there. At one point when Marty and Gus were mumbling, I turned to the 1s and quietly said, “Welcome to the group.”
He laughed. How can anyone sit through that game, with that crew and not laugh? Drugs please. Lots of them and order out for more.
Close to the end of my down Gus was mumbling that he’d lost $400 with me dealing. Of course his chasing couldn’t have anything to do with it, it was all me. Then Marty and Gus went to war. Gus said he had K-K and didn’t call on the River. Marty said he had two pair as I pushed him the pot and he started stacking.
Gus was mutter mumbling, guttural kill sounds. I dealt the next hand and Gus was low. I announced, “Four of Diamonds.”
Gus became a silent lump for about 30 seconds. Marty prodded him, “Four of Diamonds. You’re low,” waving his hand at Gus.
Gus stood up, picked up his cards, and threw them at me. He missed.
I looked at Marty and said, “Stop making him mad.”
Gus went crazy, “Dealer, just do your job!”
Marty jumped on the bandwagon, pointing at me, “I can call the Floor Man on you!”
I looked at Marty and said, “Please do.”
Gus slammed off. Marty mumbled again that he could call the Floor Man on me. Again I told him to do it.
Kamell happened to walk up at the same time. Marty leaned over, like an old woman that needs to gossip and doesn’t want anyone to know she started the rumor, and spoke behind his hand to Kamell. After Marty finished, Kamell said, “She’s pretty sharp.”
And Mike – 6s said, “Men are the ones that go through PMS.”
Everyone, except Marty laughed. Mike went with the conversation, I agreed with him, the game went on.
Gus had left a cookie on the napkin on the table and about $60 in $5 chips. Mike took off with the fact that someone should steal the cookie just to really piss Gus off. Then it got even better. Mike said he’d take a bite out of it and put it back if no one would tell on him.
Marty chortled, “Linda will tell.”
Knock – Knock. Someone tapped on the glass. Marty was acting almost human. Most of us were laughing over how Gus would react if he came back to find a bite out of his cookie. Then the noise went to the fact that he got the cookie from Mangia…one of the dealers brought it to him.
Marty won a pot and threw me $1 and said, “Now get off my back,” and he was even acting like he was enjoying the whole show. I took the $1. I gave it to the Cashiers when I left for the night. He is never going to crawl out of the Creep Freak Hall of Fame.
Mike was ready to jump up and take a bite out of the cookie but Gus came back into the room. He brought more chips to the table. And Marty leaned over to whisper to Gus behind his hand again. I’m sure he was telling Gus that he’d ratted me out to Kamell. Reach around and pat yourself on the back, Marty.
I got pushed. I walked around behind Mike, leaned over for his ears only, and said, “What would have really been funny is if you had a spare cookie and had taken a bite out of it and then put it on a napkin over his cookie.”
I know most dealers don’t have as much fun as I do. It’s too bad. I don’t have a road map to tell them how to get there though.