I was called a Feminist!


I deal primarily with men. I’m a poker dealer. I’m known for running a strict table, but a fun table (I mentally think of it as the tight ship lollipop). I’ve been accused of being a man-hater, which typically cracks up the other folks at the table, since they know, I don’t care what sex you are, I care if you are an asshole or not. Really, the line between male and female is a fuzzy little indistinct line, however, Asshole is a big, thick, glow in the dark line.

So I sit down at the Omaha table, the two most glaring assholes aren’t there, so I’m pretty happy sitting down. One guy is there who I think isn’t as big an asshole as he comes across at times, but he does amuse me, he follows the rules and knows the game, so I let him live.

Then we have a Candadian couple who come down every year. They are both really nice people. They ask about dealers that aren’t there any more, are always super, super nice and are good players. Good Folk.

There is a new lady sitting at seat one. As I’m counting my well, the canadian lady says “You’ll like her, she’s a feminist, she runs a good table and doesn’t let the men run over her.”

I’m a feminist. She sees my ability to run a table regardless of who’s playing as a strength. In my own addled mind, she sees that me standing up to blustery, obstinate men as a GOOD thing.

Damn it, I might just be worth raising a daughter after all.

That might be the nicest thing I’ve been called all week.


Uh, that’s nice…

That’s great if it makes you happy!

A feminist is a good thing to be.

And it’s such a positive use of the word! Enjoy the warm fuzzies (until some asshat throws it out in the negative way…).


Show me your tits!!