Hey gang... I just got home from work after a *very* long night at work. It was all I could do to stay the entire eight hours--it was sooooo tempting to take an early out, but I endured the entire shift and made it to the bitter end (a short-term case of poverty will do that to you).
A highlight of the night was when Stephanie dropped by to visit me and sit at my table for a bit. She used to come see me every Sunday night, but then found herself a boyfriend and I didn't see or hear from her for months. Don't know if she still has him, but it was nice see her--even dressed in sweats and wearing no makeup, she still looked great. And even better was the fact that at the time I was stuck doing 40 minutes on the Let It Ride table, so when she showed up, it made the time fly by. After that, when I went on break, she hit the blackjack tables and made a few bucks, too. Everybody wins!
Anyhow...
I know I probably talk about football too much nowadays, but I have to mention one thing that was slightly creepy from yesterdays action. No, I'm not talking about the cheap-shot head stomp in the Titans/Cowboys game, but something I saw in the Seahawks/Bears game.
Did any of you see the sign in the stands that said Put Your Sack On Hasselback?
The first time I saw it, they just flashed it briefly, and I thought Did that sign say what I think it said? But then they kept showing it! I mean, I can understand a sign like that if the Seahawks were playing a road game against the 49ers, but as far as I'm concerned, tea-bagging should not be encouraged in the NFL.
Ok, back to our regularly scheduled programming...
I got a great laugh this weekend at work, too. The other night I was standing at a dead Pai Gow game around 3 am, watching the Baccarat game going on next to me. This complete jerkoff walked up, being a dick to the floorperson and demanding a marker for $5000 right this minute! And then I noticed that he was wearing a really bad toupee.
Oh hell yeah. That's always potential for comedy gold.
I looked around to see if any of my fellow dealers noticed the quality hairpiece. None of them did, but two guys about 20 feet away in the bar sure did. I could see them pointing and laughing and I gave them a knowing glance.
Besides having a problem with vanity, Mr. Toupee wasn't catching any hands and was bleeding off his five grand at an astounding rate, becoming more of ass with every turn of the card.
The guys in the bar noticed, too, and decided to create a little bit of their own Vegas buffoonery. They left the bar, and walked down behind the Baccarat table. As soon as they got behind the guy with the wig, one of them pretended to trip on the carpet, pointed down at the floor, and yelled out Oh my god--the RUG right here is terrible!
And his buddy, not missing a beat, came back with--Yeah, I heard they were going to fix it, but I guess they didn't want TO PAY!
Highest of high comedy.
I couldn't stop myself from laughing, and neither could a couple of other people in the area that finally caught on.
Mr. Hairpiece was oblivious--he was busy berating the dealer for busting him out of another thousand-dollar hand, but his girlfriend knew what was up, and gave the drunks a dirty look.
For my part, I was lucky and didn't get busted for laughing. But it was certainly the high point of my hour while standing on a dead table.
And besides getting beat down by the bookies, that's pretty much it for my weekend. But now I've got to get some sleep.
Y'all have a happy Monday!
Mikey
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