Along the way...

As I attempted my first Grump Challenge (immediately preceding post), a few extraneous stories took place. I didn't want to interrupt the main tale there, so I'm dumping them here.

1

The chip shown above was in use as a card cap by a very nice man at the Luxor. My camera couldn't focus close enough to let you see the tiny lettering clearly, but it reads, "It's sad how bad you suck at cards."

I like. (But I wouldn't ever use it myself.)


2

This one goes in the "Huh?" department.

Again at Luxor. Flop is 6c-9d-10d. Player A bets all-in. Player B thinks long and hard. He finally says, "There's only two hands that beat me." So he has pocket nines (beaten by 7-8 for the straight, and by pocket 10s for a higher set), right? Nope. He eventually folds face-up: pocket jacks.

I didn't ask, but I sure wondered what he was thinking.


3

The dealers at the Luxor continue to strive mightily to wrest the "worst dealers in town" status from the Sahara bunch. (For previous stories of their antics, just click the "Luxor" label at the bottom of this post, or here.) They seem to hit new lows of unprofessionalism every time I go there.

In tonight's first example, we had a dealer named Frank. (I don't usually name names here, but this guy is a repeat offender at ticking me off, identified in this post as "Dealer #2.") On the flop, Player A checked. Player B pushed all of his chips in. The pot was roughly $45. B's stack was about $70, so a significant overbet. Player A quite reasonably asked how much the bet was to call. (It was just those two contesting it.) Frank said to Player A, "You have him covered by about $250." This was true, but mostly irrelevant to A's decision. His decision clearly wasn't based on what fraction of his stack he was putting at risk, but on the pot odds he was being offered. Frank continued, "You still want it counted down? [exasperated sigh] All right, I'll count it down. I don't mind." But that was a lie. Everything about his tone and facial expression and body language said loudly and clearly that he did mind, and considered it an unnecessary nuisance. Well, sorry to trouble you to DO YOUR FRIGGIN' JOB, sir!

At the Luxor, the dealers empty out the tip box from the table at the end of every down. I noticed that when Frank left the table, he had a total of $2 in the box. That gives you some idea of how popular he was with the players. The amount was so strikingly low that the dealer coming in asked Frank what had happened. He gave her a lame excuse about the players taking too long to make decisions. There were indeed a couple of chronic slowpokes there. Mildly annoying, but not truly exceptional.

Another later dealer (I don't remember him annoying me before, so I'll keep him anonymous for now) seemed unusually touchy about a seat change. The most aggressive and skilled player at the table moved from Seat 6 to Seat 4 when it opened up. I was in Seat 1. I was eager to move to 6 to have good position on this guy. Before I could speak up for it, the guy in Seat 10 asked if he could move there. The dealer said yes, but then Seat 10 changed his mind and said he'd stay put. So I announced that if he wasn't going to take Seat 6, I would. The dealer threw up his hands and said, in complete seriousness,"You guys are making me crazy!"

This was nothing out of the ordinary. One player leaves, a second wants to move to the now-open spot, and a third wants to take that seat. This happens all the time, and is no big deal. It was an utterly commonplace exchange, the kind that the dealer must see transpire several times a day. I have no idea why it irritated him so. If it was just the yes/no changed mind of Seat 10, that hardly seems like grounds for feeling like the players were trying to confuse or gang up on him.

This same guy, at the end of his down, had a hand that took longer than usual to play out, while the replacement dealer stood by waiting. One player this time really was on the borderline of taking an unreasonable amount of time, and I was on the verge of asking for a clock, when he finally announced a call of his opponent's large river bet. After pushing the pot, the exiting dealer said to the other, "This is the table from hell." There was no humor or irony in his voice or body language--just anger. Hey, dude, we all had to wait just the same as you did.

Finally, there were three players at the far end of the table (when I was in Seat 1) who repeatedly and openly speculated on what various players held while the hand was in progress and decisions were still pending. I asked the dealer, "Are players allowed to speculate out loud about what others have?" I know full well that the answer is no, but this is my usual way of addressing the problem, because asking the dealer that question is much less confrontational than telling the offenders, "Hey, you can't say those things." She had obviously heard them, because she turned to them and said, "Yeah, you guys can't be talking about the hand while other players still have decisions to make." OK, young lady, so why didn't you speak up to them directly? Why did you wait for me to point out the problem, when controlling the table is your job, not mine? And, worse, why did you continue to allow it to go on from the same players in subsequent hands?

I'm convinced that the Luxor dealers reinforce each others' bad habits and practices. That room really needs an iron-fisted manager who respects the rules and demands that the dealers conduct themselves professionally. But at this point, that would be such a sea change that I'm not holding my breath.