For 20 minutes, this guy won't STFU. One player gets up and walks away from the table, without a word.
"Where is HE going?", asks chatty guy.
"Gift shop," I said. "Going to see if they sell earplugs."
***
"A lot of clubs out there," says a player not in the hand. He is quickly scolded by his neighbor. He insists there's nothing wrong with saying that.
I try to explain why it's not allowed, but I'm shouted down by most of the table, who see nothing wrong with commenting on something so obvious, especially at these small stakes.
Scolding Neighbor now has more people to scold, and he sets to work on that task with relish. I had his side at the start of this, but now he's just using "being right" as an excuse to be rude to people...and now one player is taking a hostile tone in return, and I can ignore these fools no longer.
"Somehow," I announce in my take-charge voice, "you have ALL managed to be wrong about this!"
***
The mixed game was on its last legs when I pushed in, my last down of the shift. Only two guys playing heads-up, and the only games in the mix were 2-7TD and Big O. Like every heads-up game ever held, the players were stationed at opposite ends of the table.
Both games require me to pitch 5 cards to each player, and swinging back and forth to pitch left me exhausted after the first hand! So on the 2nd hand, I tried something different: instead of pitching, I quickly counted out their hands on the felt in front of me, then handed each player his 5-card packet.
"What are you doing?", they both blurted, but they quickly saw what I was up to, and did not object. I dealt that way the rest of the down. IT WAS AWESOME. I got out 24 hands in 30 minutes--and we weren't playing hold'em! We played 8 hands of Big O, and 16 hands of 2-7TD!!! An *insane* pace for those two games!
One player was on a heater the whole time. He was in a good mood, and was loving how much I had sped up the game. He told me with his thick accent, "You are the most-smart dealer I have ever seen!"
The other guy was getting murdered while I was there, so he wasn't singing my praises--but he didn't object, which I took as a compliment.
When the push came, Heater Guy asked me to deal one more hand before leaving, to demonstrate to the incoming dealer my little innovation.