Thursday, January 24, 2008

His Name Is "Dick"!

Working in a casino, I've learned that a dealer's favorite pastime is to bitch. Either about management or about the customers. It really doesn't matter which--either one is a perfect target for a dealer's ire.

And since my roommate is also a dealer, and happens to work in the same casino as I do (although on a different shift), we love to bitch about the "fleas" that we both encounter. The unbelievable thing is that a lot of these fleas put in more time at the tables than we do. Heck, I only work eight hours a day, as does Rob, but some of these people easily spend 16 hours or more a day, almost every day, gambling away every dime that they have. Some can afford it, most can't. And it's easy to tell who can't. Equally easy to spot are the players that don't have any friends or family, hobbies or outside activities. Going to the casino is all they've got.

Since I work in a locals casino, and I usually deal Pai Gow, I have a lot of "regular" players that I see almost every day, or at least once or twice a week. Most of them are very nice, decent tippers, and easy to deal with. But believe me, I have my share of losers. I've talked about them at length, too. But one of the reasons I like dealing Pai Gow so much is that the players don't bitch all the time. It's a nice relaxing game, and unless you're just having some sorry-assed luck, you're not gonna go broke, or at least not go broke very fast.

Blackjack, on the other hand, is full of whiners and degenerates, crybabies and assholes. Granted, a majority of players are decent and are there just to have a good time, but there is a very vocal minority of players who ruin it for everyone.

There's one guy in particular who I've encountered a bunch lately that is really starting to get on my nerves. And Rob sees him on his shift too. The dealers hate this guy, as do the floor people. But it's bad when the players in the casino see this guy coming and start to mumble and groan, hoping he doesn't sit down at the table.

First of all, lets talk about his appearance. He's tall and lanky, and has that creepy undertaker appearance to him. He's got a badly receded, hairline (the 'toilet bowl' haircut), dorky silver-rimmed thick square glasses, and bad hygiene. At first glance, he seems like the kind of guy who drives a white serial-killer van and hangs out at the junior high, trying to pass out candy. Hell, he's such an oddball that all the dealers on day shift simply refer to him as 'Creepy Carl'

But that's not the worst--weird looking slobs are a dime a dozen in the casino business. The worst thing about him is the way he plays.

First of all, he lurks around, waiting for a dead table to get some players. As soon as the table gets going and there's a nice enjoyable fun vibe going on, he walks up and sits down, ruining it. Not only does he play like a jackass, standing on thirteens and fourteens against a dealer's ten-card, but he splits things he shouldn't and hits his twelves against a dealer's stiff card. Of course, he screws up the flow of the cards for everyone else, pissing them off.

Not only that, it takes him forever to make up his mind on if he wants a hit (especially bad on a double deck pitch game). It's like he can't add or something. Eventually, he chases away all of the other players. It really sucks because a lot of times, if the table is fun and has a good vibe, those other players are good tippers, and he just kills the action. And of course he never tips--he's a loser.

It's gotten to the point that I don't care whatsoever how rude I am to him now. Of course, I can't be blatant, but he *knows* I can't stand him and I bag on him all the time. If he's taking forever to make a decision, or screwing up the cards, I call him out--

What, you can't add an Ace and a four without a calculator?

What the hell's the hold up? You have an eighteen against my seven.

Dude, are your trying out for the Special Olympics blackjack team?

The funny thing is, we just found out that his real name is Dick--it says so on his player's card. So after a particularly stupid play, I like to use his name (the bosses always want us to use the player's first name, and I'm all about providing good customer service)--

Nice going, Dick. If you would've take a card like you were supposed to, I would've busted. Instead you caused everyone else to lose!

I do whatever I can to chase him away. But he'll either stay until he's broke or everyone else leaves, whichever comes first. Once the other players are gone, he'll color up too, and move on to the next table of victims. He won't play by himself--he insists on killing every table he goes to.

One night, he showed up and killed my table, and after everyone colored up, he did the same. As soon as he left, the other players sat back down again. He immediately came back asking for change. Everybody groaned, and since there was no floorperson within earshot, I just said Sorry dude, I just colored you up, surveillance won't allow me to take those checks back on the same table--you have to play at a different table before you can come back to this one.

He fell for it and walked off, and everyone else thanked me. Heh.

It seems that lately, after every shift, both Rob and I have stories about the guy--he plays at least three nights a week, and when he does, he plays until he goes broke. Sometimes that takes twelve hours or more. But he obviously doesn't have any friends or hobbies--he's a social retard--so the casino is the extent of his social life. That really sucks for those of us who have to put up with him. We're kinda wishing that he'd discover strippers or something like that, instead.

It doesn't matter, though. If he leaves, there will be another one to take his place the very next day. I can almost guarantee it.

Mikey

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