I was going to write more on Sunday, but Saturday night at the casino was just so routine that it was boring--no big wins, no big losses, no fights, no asshats, no fleas, no huge Georges, no spilled drinks at my tables, nothing really of note happened at all. It was just a nice easy night at work.
Last night, however, was great. I felt like the night flew by--even though I was exhausted--and I dropped a ton of money in the toke box. I certainly carried my substantial weight last night. When I first checked in, I stopped at the podium behind my table to get a clean hand towel, and the floorperson gave me an ominous-sounding Have fun... greeting. I looked and saw that one of our biggest fleas was playing green action on two spots, and another old guy had a huge stack of black chips and was playing two spots at $300 per hand. And the minimum table limit was set at $50.
Nice! It kinda felt, for a second, like I was dealing at a class joint like Caesars Palace.
Well, I flipped my 'On' switch, sat down, greeted my players, and started dealing the cards. I tried being nice to our flea, but he was oblivious, so I was ok with providing minimal interaction while I just crushed him hand after hand. The old guy with all the black chips, however, seemed like a nice old gent and I concentrated on giving him all of my attention. And he was doing pretty well. Pretty soon, he was putting me up for $10 a hand, and I was paying him off, so we both were making pretty good money. He wouldn't play the bonus, saying something along the lines of I've been playing Pai Gow since before they put me in this wheelchair, and I never win that damn bonus!, but of course whenever he'd get one, he'd toss me a green $25 chip and tell me to drop it in my box--this was in addition to the bets he was making for me.
Making all that money, with the added gravy of busting the old stiff that comes in every night, well, that was just good clean fun. After about forty-five minutes or so, the old gent decided to color up, several thousand dollars to the good.
As I was changing up his chips, the boss was standing directly behind me, as they tend to do when players make a killing. The player asked if I would be able to join him for dinner in the Italian restaurant, but I had to decline.
So, they'll dock your pay if you have dinner with me and my wife, huh? That's ok, tell 'em I'll cover it!
I looked up at the boss and said, Hey Gary, you mind if I go to dinner for about an hour? I'll come right back, I promise!
He just smirked and said You're not going anywhere... and the unsaid part, You've got to win back all that money you just dumped...
So I stayed and proceeded to just bust out everyone else. But believe me, it was so nice to drop some good money on Pai Gow--I dropped more tokes in that first 45 minutes than I made for eight hours the night before (and we had a good night on Saturday, too). So I was off and running.
I was back on my favorite string of tables, and paid out enough big hands on Deuces Wild to squeeze another hundy or so out of my players during the next hour. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, and time just flew by.
Before I knew it, it was after midnight and they started closing tables. But not mine--I went from midnight until 1:00 am, and hour straight, without dealing a single hand. I sat on a dead game the entire time, trying to keep from falling asleep. The other boss--the one even higher up who everyone thinks that I'm her teacher's pet--came by and asked me how long I was staying that night, fishing for me to take an early out. But I had to decline, having missed 12 hours during the pay period which ended as soon as I punched out last night. I *did* however, sign up for the half-hour early out, hoping to get out at 2:20.
But it was not to be--I ended up dealing blackjack (dropped another small fortune) and Ultimate Holdem, not getting tapped out until 3:04 am--the last man standing, literally, on my shift. That was two days in a row of that nonsense. I didn't know what to do--I *always* get the half-hour early out, and both Saturday and Sunday I had to stay till the bitter end! I honestly haven't worked a full eight-hour day in a month--so it was quite a shock to my already worn-out system.
Of course, after work, I had to go out with a couple of my ladies for some Chinese food. This time we went with Orange Beef, Extra Spicy Cashew Chicken, rice, and Pan-Fried Dumplings. Oh yeah, and a couple of beers. The food was great, as usual, but I was in for a shock with the orange beef--they actually cook big hunks of orange rind in the wok with the meat, and it makes it look just like bacon after it's cooked. So when your eyes and your brain are thinking "bacon" and your mouth finds out the hard way that it's "scorched orange peel", well, there's kind of a disconnect. Aside from that and the toasted red chilis that I had the unfortunate situation of biting in half, it was a decent dish. But one that I probably won't order again. Between that and the spicy chicken, my dessert consisted of a cup full of ice cubes.
Around 5:00 am, I found myself hitting the wall, barely able to carry on a conversation, so I had to say goodnight to all my friends. A couple of us snuck out as soon as the bill was paid, and I was in bed a half hour later, spent.
Luckily, I was asleep before the sun came up, so I was able to get some rest. I got a few chores done once I woke up, although I'm saving the big To Do list for tomorrow.
Until then, I've got about 12 hours until my weekend starts. The countdown is on!
Mikey
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