I Want My Two Dollars!

Well. This week is completely sucking ass.

I set my alarm for 11:45 pm last night after sleeping through the Steelers game. I got up, showered, shaved, got dressed, grabbed a can of energy drink, and headed for the casino.

I wasn't too shocked when I got there and saw that once again, there was only one poker game going--a shorthanded 4/8 game. But there were also two other dealers still there, too, giving us 3 dealers and one game. So I had to go take a break for my first half hour, then push in at 1:30.

So I headed back to the dining room and no amount of pickled jalapenos could overcome the pasty, gritty taste of the nasty cheese sauce they had sitting on the line, congealing into a toxic orange mess. Even though I should've known better, I made a plate of the worst-tasting nachos in the history of mankind. I managed to choke down about five or six of them before giving up in disgust while watching the middle-of-the-night replay of Georgia Tech laying the smack down on 'The U'.

While I was in there, I ran into several of my old compadres from my days in the pit. They're all still bitter and angry, but this week, they have nothing to complain about when comparing their apples to my oranges.

After my 'break', I headed back over to the poker room and pushed in to the game just in time for it to break up. Yup, I dealt a whopping two hands before the last three players colored up and called it a night. Even the dealer I pushed out offered to sit down and join the game, but by then, all the fish had been gutted and fried and the game wasn't worth continuing.

So I closed the table, reset the decks, and locked up the bank. I then went to the desk and cashed out my two dollars in tips I made. And doing a quick calculation in my head, it appears that I've earned $23 so far this week. Good times!

I didn't want to come straight home, and the floorman has to stay there all night regardless, so I just hung out with him for a couple of hours talking about poker, booze, football, and chicks. You know, normal stuff. Since the cocktail waitress had nothing to do either, she came by and kept us company between her laps around that side of the casino, too.

By around 4:30 or so, I'd had enough and was ready to come on home. I stopped at the convenience store on the corner for a carton of juice and a granola bar, then motored back to the pad. I was halfway tempted to hit Blueberry Hill for some breakfast and a newspaper first, but that would've cost me half of my week's earnings.

Anyhow, before I left, the floorman said he'd try and call me in tonight to help me make a little money--we both figured that there would be some games going late and it would be a chance to pick up a shift. Otherwise, I've got nothing else this weekend except a few hours of dealing a freeroll on Sunday. Sadly, that doesn't really pay anything, either--the players all get in free, and they all make deals to chop up the winnings, so it's not a lucrative gig at all. Ugh. I guess if I'm gonna make any money this next couple of weeks, it'll have to come from playing poker instead of dealing it.

Mikey