Well, it's Friday, and the good news is that it's payday again. I picked up my check stub at the counter of the uniform room last night around 1:00 in the morning, just to get an early peek at how much was hitting the account. I was surprised to find yet another record-breaking 'largest check ever' since I've been working there. Although, I'm afraid this one won't be topped for awhile--it's almost double what I was bringing in back in the heady days of the late 90's when my nieces referred to me as their 'rich uncle'. Of course, there are always bills to pay, but I'm still able to put a couple hundred away in savings and have a little walkin' around money in my pocket, too.
Not only am I blessed with a decent job that is financially rewarding, I actually enjoy going to work for the most part. I actually like what I do. And I'm pretty good at it, too. Yep, I'd have to say that my brokerage days are pretty much over--I really can't see myself going back to that world. So it's goodbye NASD registrations, goodbye Series 7, 9, 10, and 63 licenses. The series 24 study guide goes in the recycle bin, too. No more Continuing Education bullshiat, no more Sarbanes-Oxley nonsense, and no more Compliance Department overseeing every little detail of my financial life. No more esplainin' what a stop order is a dozen times a day, no more "disclosing" damn near every word I say, and no more of every single one of my phone conversations being recorded. (Except by them dudes in the black helicopters, but we won't get into that right now...)
Of course, it all comes with a price, and that price seems to be having no more weekends or holidays off, having no such thing as a salary, and having a dependence on a perpetually robust economy.
Funny how just the thought of that decision caused so many sleepless nights in the past. It might have been tough to consider back then, but now--like holding three-of-a-kind at the Let It Ride table--it's a no-brainer.
I'm happy where I'm at and with what I'm doing. Life is good.
The bills are paid, I got it made in the shade
and all I need
is a beautiful girl, oh yeah...
Remember how the other day I mentioned that if I could have one toke box for myself, I'd take the one from the 3-Card Poker table every time?
Let me tell you about last night. My fourth hour of the night was on that 3-Card Poker table, and it was full. I had a couple on one end playing green, each one putting me up for $5 every hand. They were doing pretty well, and with hitting the odd flush or straight, I was dropping about $10 to $20 in tokes after every hand. Very nice, and it was filling the box up at a steady clip.
At the other end of the table, I had one of my regular players who is stone-cold crazy. She bets anywhere from $25 to table limit on the Pairs Plus bet on every hand. Some nights she gets chewed up for several hundred dollars, never catching any cards. But some nights she catches lightning in a bottle.
Tonight was one of those nights. She had a moderate stack of green and black checks in front of her, about a thousand bucks worth. At first, I thought she was winning, but she kept reminding me that she was down about $700 for the night. One one hand, she put $60 on the P.P. bet, with five bucks on the side for me.
Her favorite dealer--that would be me--then dealt her the Queen-King-Ace of Clubs...
At 40-1 odds, that's $2400. Oh hell yeah. But we can't forget the dealer bet. My five bucks earned $200, so it was "$205 and down". After calling the Eye and paying her off, she set herself up again with $75 on the P.P. bet, with $35 for Mikey on the side.
Next hand, I followed it up with an unsuited 9-10-Jack. At 6-1 odds, she got $450, but I got $210, so it was "$245 and down". Yep, in less than three minutes, I dropped $450 in the toke box. With everything else I did, I'd say I easily added $700 or more for the dealers during the hour I was at that table. Imagine a box about the size of your standard cigar box, filled to the brim with red and green casino chips. That's what the toke box looked like when I left. (We don't drop the black $100 chips--big payoffs are broken down to all green). Word around the campfire was that a couple of our other big players were in the house, and winning, so hopefully we made good money last night.
Since I'm one of the lucky gotta-work-six-days crowd, the assistant floor manager was kind enough to come by my table at 3 am and tell me that instead of getting tapped out at 3:40 and doing tokes before going home, I'd get tapped out at 3:20 and I'd take a half hour of Early Out. I still get my full 8-hour share of tips, but the casino only pays me for 7.5 hours. No problemo. At only seven bucks an hour, I'll that that half hour every night! Just so you know, every dealer in the joint would run over their dog to get that half hour--it's a favorite 'perk'. It's always worth three and a half bucks to get the hell out early at the tail-end of the shift.
I also found out when I do my official shift bid--next Saturday at 3:48 in the afternoon. Yep, they have it down to the minute--and everyone gets three minutes to make their choice. But since my seniority number is 136 out of 155, I'm guessing that the pickin's may be awful slim by the time I get there. I'm sure I'll still be on Swing Shift, but who knows what days off I'm going to end up with.
As long as it's not the same ones as the handful of Dorks I Try To Avoid, just about anything is fine with me.