I got my all-time favorite question again yesterday....
"Bmurph, what time does the 7 PM tournament start?"

Today I had a player indicate a check by smacking himself in the face. I propose we make this the only legal way to indicate a check.

+1 co-signed

Some of the best advice I've read itt

Thread over. This wins.

Reminds me of the inane questions that football players get at Media Day at the Super Bowl. The best (or worst?) being to Doug Williams, who was historically the first black quarterback to start a Super Bowl.

Someone asked him "How long have you been a black quarterback?"

The question has merit, if it was asked at 7:05 and the tourney hadn't started yet.

Another reason to start on time.

The question that's tilting me lately:

Player calls in for 1/3, asks how many are on the list
I tell him (example: 11)
"Are you going to start a new table?"
(In reality, 8 are call-ins and 3 are live)
It's driving me insane.

Well when asked how many on the list why not say that 8 are call-ins.

Had the tournament table from hell today.

In seat 1 is "crowding the plate" guy. He's half in the box, he smells like stale pot, and he's making lame attempts to flirt with me the entire down. I'm left-handed, so I'm literally hitting him every pitch, and when I politely asked him to scoot over a bit, he did the "pretend to move shuffle" and ended up in the exact same spot.

Seat 10 holds the lady who feels the need to vocalize every single thought she has as it enters her head. This results in a constant (and I mean CONSTANT) stream of inane commentary on the hands, the room, the temperature, the weather, the guy over there, random babble, how I should give her good cards because it would be girls vs. boys, what she should eat for lunch, etc.

I felt like Odysseus, if some unseen force had held him between Scylla and Charybdis for 30 minutes.

(Beavis and Butthead's ridiculous attempt at flirting voice) Uh....hey, baby!

I know exactly what you mean.

I'm sure this question has been asked before, but I have an interview as a dealer at a casino in Canada (ran by the province). Could someone point me towards where I'd find out how much the position typically pays, how much tips are, chances of being promoted, etc..?

The dealers there could tell you.

Tips in Canada must be awful!

Why is that?

My favorite is "do you have a waiting list?"

"yes"
"how many on it"
"none"
"but you just said you had one"
"I do have one. Would like me to put you on it?"


2nd favorite...

"how many you got on the list?"
"none, I have seats open"
"ok, thanks" (click)

fast forward 35 min when they arrive

"hi, can I get a seat?"
"sorry, all full. Can I put you on the list?"
"I called and they said there was seats open."
"and?"

Before, during a tournament, how often do you guys hear "What table is this?" instead of " Where is table X?"

Sent from my SM-G900P using 2+2 Forums

I usually speak first "what table are you looking for?"

My favorite is when they come to my FULL table, craning there neck to see the number and then ask what table is this.

My favorite is when you're dealing to 3 or 4 players at the final table and a 2/4 limit player sits down with 2 stacks of whites.

No more stories from me for awhile. I'm having surgery to repair a shattered heel.

Wow, that doesn't sound good. Hope all goes well and you can get back quickly!

Yowza. How'd that happen? Here's hoping for a quick and complete recovery!

Ugh don't tell me mens league soccer or something? That sucks man.

You don't need a heel in this job. We got a guy who tore his Achilles, he just tooled around on one of those little knee-scooter things to get from table to table. I don't know how he managed to carry around his toke box and rack of chips on that thing, but he did. A few coworkers chipped in and got him some girls' bicycle accessories, like a flowery basket and tassles for the ends of the handlebars.

***

A huge crash rings out through the cardroom, as someone in the kitchen drops a tray of plates and utensils. I brace for the mock cheers and catcalls, but they don't come! Really, no one said a word to acknowledge it, they all acted like they had heard that noise before! I've never seen that happen! Not in a cardroom, not anywere! It made my day.

***

WAITRESS: I'm sorry, sir, but we're out of hot dogs.

PLAYER A: What??? LOL. How the hell does THAT happen?

WAITRESS: You know that roller thing they sit on, that cooks 'em? That's broken. I'm sorry.

(table chuckles)

ME: You guys don't have a microwave back there?

PLAYER B: (calmly) Just go back there and tell 'em to boil a pot of water....and if they can't do that...(becoming annoyed with this already) ...then come back here, and I'll tell you 500 other ways to cook a hot dog!

***

Earlier ITT someone joked that the scariest phrase in this business is Midnight Deadspreads, but I've got a scarier one: Spring Break. College kids are the worst, and they come in bunches during the dreaded Spring Break. I had one the other night, winning every pot, rendering the down to Pro Bono status. He's not only winning every pot and stiffing, he also won't shut up, and all he wants to talk about is himself. He's from Beaver Dam, Wisconsin--and I know this because he must have said it eight times.

He's on the button and it's checked around to him. I interrupt his soliloquy to get him to act on his hand. He's much more interested in talking about himself than he is in this particular hand, and he asks me, "Can I just fold?" I assured him that he could, and when he tossed is hand in, I turbo-mucked it.

A player at the opposite end asked me to clarify if "checking out" was once again legal in this room. His tone indicated that he wasn't annoyed by my letting the player fold in that spot; he just wanted to know what the rule was. I assured him that his hunch was correct, that I had just let a player make an illegal play--but I explained that any time the one player at the table who refuses to tip wants fold, I'm all for it! "And this guy," I went on, "gets a Lifetime Exemption."

A few minutes later, that ridiculous disco song "I Will Survive" comes on. Someone jokes that I Will Survive is probably the Official Song of poker tournament players. I countered that it's almost certainly the Official Song of poker dealers in Beaver Dam, Wisconsin.

***

Guy with a Southern accent is making small talk. When another player asks what he does for a living, he explains that he's in town on business. There is a huge shopping mall being built nearby, and he is in charge of installing massive skylights over the concourse. Dude is in the 6-seat, and he's drinking pretty good, and swaying more and more, until he knocks his chips all over that end of the table. It was between hands, so no time was spent trying to untangle whose chips were whose, but the game stopped for a minute while he re-gathered his chips. It was a huge mess.

I couldn't help myself: "I hope you don't build skylights the way you stack chips!"

A coworker who was playing in the game almost bit through his lip, trying to supress his laughter at that moment--and couldn't do it.

(To be clear: less than two hours after I felt joy that no one crapped on the guy who dropped the dishes....then I had to go and crap on this guy. I'm an awful person.)