Gee wiz!

What's that been? Like since the first Clinton administration since you've been on a game? George Herbert Bush maybe? Nothing quite so pleasurable as dealing with AC guys. They have a little brother, Napoleon complex.

You know, come to think of it, every joint I've ever been in had that testosterone laced pump to it - trying to stump the dealer & discussions on wildly complicated combinations of across, props, you name it. And I'm talking on a regular game, with a place open for years (not the situation you described, a pre opening dealing house is exactly when that's supposed to happen). And I never thought twice about it. Dice were for guys with a bit of a chip on the ol' shoulder and most assuredly thought they were the brightest person in the room at any given moment in the day. Best case scenario you meet and befriend the lads that make up this Bund. Worst case ... well, lets just call him "Tom Often." Then I got to my current city of residence. And specifically the place I've been at for 4 out of my 5 years here in town (I was at Treasure Island and the Hilton prior). They just don't care. And I'm not painting it as some zen like peace or unprofessional, nothing of the sort - they honestly just don't care to over complicate their jobs. "36 years", "38 years." "25" - these are answers to not just how long they've been dealing, but dealing in the very pit in which we stand. If you get into the teens you're a light weight. I joked (& to my relief they laughed) that they were the only guys I knew who could put "mafia" on their resume' as a former employer. There is virtually zero turn over. Prior to their opening up the "entertainment" pit, in which scantly clothed 20-something female dealers were required, you couldn't apply without a minimum ten years and multiple strip properties under your belt. And I have no doubt that the only reason I got in (with my paltry 8 years at the time) was my extended conversation about Katrina with the assistant to the table games VP while waiting for her boss to interview me. At any rate, in this pit there are no questions about massive props. No comments on how you deal. No references to inside/outside hand. I doubt there's been a full stick call in 30 years. This isn't to say these guys can't deal - a $100,000 marker and they don't blink, don't even pause in their conversation about the grand kids. It's more of a mutual respect. They figure you can only get in that pit if you can deal well, so there's no conversations about it - whatsoever. And while it drives AC floor transplants nuts for the first 3 weeks (until their resistance is depleted and they join in the chorus), it makes it the perfect setting for ME, as I am at my wits end with this industry. Being in that pit, with guys whom deal like Harry Carey called a game (the game was almost a side effect of his getting together to tell stories) comes as a welcomed respite. It's like the bar at Cheers opened up a dice game. And while I rarely participate in such "moves", whether it's giving change from stick, putting pay outs in the rail, paying a guy on the line his usual bet even though a woman walked by and distracted him from making it in the first place, I know this place has ruined me for any place else. And in my book - that's a good thing.

At any rate, were it a lesser man I'd question his gaming faculties after a multi year absence from the ol' whip. But I have no doubt that it wont be long before you're comfortable enough as floor to lean into a dealer during a jammed up game and politely ask, "Can you name the 13 Colonies?" Hehehe ...

Oh and by the way - Connecticut, Delaware, Georgia, Maryland, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New York, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, North Carolina, South Carolina and Virginia. I won't get that one wrong a second time.