You drove all the way across town just to come where I work and give me shit?

The BBQ Pit
1

Ok, look asshole. You and the fucking slutbag cunt that sucks your dick did nothing but give me shit when I worked with the two of you.

I’m twice the dealer than the two of you put together and you have the nerve to come in here and tell my coworkers that I’m the worst dealer you ever saw and that you carried me on New Year’s Weekend? Tell them that I never thanked the players who bet for us when you stood there and listened to me do it?

You, who refused to help book prop bets when I was on stick (that is part of a dealer’s job you know) then bitched about how long it took me to get each and every individual player’s attention to find out what bet belonged to who? You, who got so wrapped up with insulting and belittling me, on the game, in front of customers, that you weren’t getting your own players’ bets booked and set up have the nerve to call me a lump and say I cost you toke money? You, who give such piss-poor customer service that the only way you can get a toke is to lean over and sneer at a player “Hey, how about a bet for the dealers?”

So, you found out where I was working, and you came with that fucking slutbag whore (she’s such a bitch that nobody else will put up with her shit- she’s a fucking weak dealer, and, much like yourself, tries to cover for it by trying to make other people look bad), found out where I’m working now, and drive to the other side of the Las Vegas valley, just so you talk shit to me, call me a lump (while I’m holding a four foot rattan stick in my hand, no less, since you were drunk when you came in, probably drove across town drunk with the slutbag in your car, didn’t you, fuckbrain?)

Look, cocksucker, the only reason that you and the slutbag still work there and I don’t is that you’re both willing to bend over and let a floorman fuck you up the ass while simultaneously sucking a pit boss’s dick, while I naievly expect to be judged on trivial details like, oh, say, my job performance…

By the way, I’m making as much money as you are, and don’t have to put up with the bullshit. The floorman I’m working with now actually expects the dealers to cooperate and work together as a team… and I don’t have to suck his dick, he respects me based on my dealing abilities.

(Gee, a nice Catholic girl like me. I didn’t know I knew them kind of words. I feel much better now.)

2

problems, but I have to take my hat off to you. I gather you work craps tables? Then you are amazing. I have no idea how you keep track, and I admire the hell outta ya.

stoid
who LOVES craps!

3

Yeah, craps rocks.

How we keep track… It’s called relative positioning, plus years of experience. For about the first six months, I would fall apart if I had more than about one player on my side, then one day, suddenly, I had a jammed up game and I just kind of handled it- everything sort of fell into place (I give more than partial credit to a very good hypnotherapist, btw. Frank, if you’re out there, I need your current phone number, the one in the yellow pages is now connected to a cell phone that is always out of area). It was ten months before I could walk onto a busy game at the beginning of a shift and deal the action that was already there. I’ve been doing this for three years now, and I still have someone throw me a curve at least once a night. The longer I deal this game, the more I find out I don’t know about dealing it. If you think you’re good enough, you never will be.

The only thing I haven’t learned yet is how to deal with coworkers who are deliberately uncooperative (when I was working downtown, the pit boss wouldn’t tolerate that kind of shit) and working with people who, instead of dealing with their inadequacies by trying to improve themselves, deal with them by drawing attention to every little mistake someone else makes.

I doubt if I ever will figure that one out. I have this sense right and wrong…

4

Got a cell phone? Know what kind of car he drives?

Next time he staggers in drunk, as he leaves give the local PD a call at 1-800-GRABDUI or whatever Nevada uses for a drunk driver hotline and let them know there’s drunk on the highway.

5

assuming he leaves before I get off work. He stuck around the casino and waited for me to get off the game then got in my face and said, “So, how do you like it here?” I told him it’s nice, there’s actually teamwork on a dice crew here, and he said, “Teamwork, as bad as you are? We carried you, you fucking lump!” Yeah, lay in wait for me.

So, this sorry excuse for a human being can’t find a worse dealer than he is where he’s working now, can’t find someone who’s his equal that he can make look bad (he succeeds because most of the boxmen are too burned out to care and the floormen are incompetent) so he drives across town to give me shit- there are worse dealers than him where I’m working now, but he doesn’t know them, so he trash talks me instead.

Oh, asshole, by the way, we were only on a crew together for three nights- most of the nights we didn’t work together, my crew made more than yours- I checked the toke book- so who carried who? See, I do this thing called customer service, and earn my tokes, so I don’t need to stoop to the level of asking for (or demanding, in your case) a bet.

And no, I don’t have a cell phone or know what kind of car he drives.

Would somebody please tell me what motivates a “person” to behave this way? Doesn’t he know that all he’s accomplishing is showing my current coworkers firsthand what I’ve already told them- that the dealers at (the casino next door to the Barbary Coast) act like a bunch of stuck up snot-nosed middle school children?

6

Thea, how difficult is it for an employee to have someone thrown out of the casino? Sounds like these two were only there to harrass you, not to patronize the place. Next time they come in, perhaps you could accuse them of cheating or something. Or maybe have a Joe Pesci type take em out into the desert or stick their heads in a vice?

Sorry, all I know about casinos I learned from the movie.

7

Well, Will, they did sort of put money on the table and play craps, and the casino isn’t going to turn down money, even if the main reason they came to the table was to harass me. When asshole got the dice, the first thing he did was * throw them at me* (he was drunk enough his aim was bad, so one just bounced off my hand, but still) and my supervisor still let him play. This isn’t a classy joint, it’s a shithole locals casino, and it takes a lot to get thrown out. I’ve had dice thrown at me before in other places that I’ve worked, and it doesn’t seem to be grounds for 86ing someone. Even hitting a dealer (happened to a former coworker) won’t get you thrown out of some places. The Joe Pesci types are long gone.

8

For us ignorant types: in dealer parlance, what’s a “toke”?

9

I’m curious now: I know just about nothing about craps, other than the fact that it is played with dice.

Why is it so complicated to deal? What does dealing involve anyway?

Sorry for the hijack, but I’m guessing that now the venting is out of the way you mightn’t mind educating me a little :smiley:

pan

10

Kabbes- it really isn’t that complicated to deal, once you get the hang of it. But it takes a minimum of two years to get the hang of it.

Craps is the second most complex game in the casino (pai-gow tiles being the first, but most smaller places don’t have it, and you have to speak Chinese -both Mandarin and Cantonese- to deal it effectively).

I won’t go into the details of the game, you can go to http://www.dicedealer.com, a website mostly oriented toward dealers, but there’s good information for players, too.

OK, picture this- if you’re on base, you might have as many as eight people throwing money and yelling, all wanting something at the same time. In the midst of this, you are trying to perform mathemetical operations of varying degrees of complexity in your head, (if you’re on stick it can get really bad, because the math in the prop box is much more complex, and if you’ve got some asshole stroking you (basically making multiple, redundant bets in the hope that you’ll get confused and overpay him if one or more of his bets hits). You’re still paying the first player’s come bet, and the third player is yelling at you to press his place bet. Then there’s the guy who bets thirty-two inside, and as soon as one of his bets hits, he wants you to take him down to sixteen inside, then presses back up, then takes it down… over here, you’ve got the idiot who set his come bet down in front of another player, then wonders why you paid the guy he put it in front of instead of him.For a break-in dealer, it can be nerve-wracking.

11

woah

12

…and now my head will explode…