Karma May Eventually Bite Me

I’ve never claimed that I enjoyed customer service gigs. It’s one of those largely ironic things that while I’m actually pretty good at it, I really dislike people as a whole. Seems most jobs I have had in life have largely dealt with the public up in my face.

Working at the casino was the best/worst example of this. When I first started and was dealing regular games, some of the “carnival games” had dumb progressive jackpots attached to them. A progressive jackpot is when each round or hand has a separate side bet attached that has nothing to do with the game. The players just keep making that bet in the hopes that eventually some ridiculous criteria will be met to win that jackpot.

For example, Caribbean Stud Poker had one. It is such a ridiculously easy game that you just about have to have some hook attached to it. The players put up their “ante”, the dealer gives each player a hand of five cards, and then himself. And then that’s it. If you like your hand, you double your bet. If you fold, you fold and you simply lose the original bet.

Obviously, you have to beat the dealer. The dealer also has to qualify with some minimum hand that the house specifies. If you make your backbet, and the dealer does not qualify, you get paid on the front.

If this were a ten dollar Caribbean Stud table, the way the minimum bet would work is this: you would have to ante up ten dollars to get the cards. If you liked your hand, you would then have to bet 20 behind. It’s also in your best interest to put up a dollar every hand for the progressive jackpot. You see how conceivably, every hand could cost 31 dollars?

What you got paid depended on your hand. I can not remember the payout on every single hand and I’m not even going to try. But I do remember that a “four of a kind” paid 1 to 1 on the ante and it also paid 20 to 1 on the back bet. It also paid an extra $500 dollars from the progessive jackpot, provided you made the 1 dollar bet. So your 31 dollar bet would garner you 10 dollars plus 400 plus 500.

I only ever dealt one progressive hand. It was an incredibly slow Sunday night. I was expiring of boredom stuck on a Caribbean Stud table. A nearly empty Caribbean Stud table. There were 2 regulars sat there. One of them was a big favorite of mine. He was personable and a great tipper. The other was just a massive pain in the ass. The kind that you just wish would stroke out while he sat there to generate some excitement.

PITA just sat there and bitched and moaned and complained at his lack of luck, my shitty dealing, the noise in the casino, etc. For like 3 hours, every time I would walk back from a break, I was hoping he would be gone. No such luck. Finally, my little old sweetie could not take it anymore.

“Darling, I have to go. I can’t sit here and listen to this shit for another second.” “I so envy you, honey. come back and see me soon, ok?” Yes, we were speaking as though that other asshole wasn’t even there. We had been chatting along, ignoring him this entire time.

I watched him leave sadly, sighed dramatically, and dealt the very next hand. PITA starts in immediately as soon as he was allowed to pick up his cards.

“You’re just worthless, you know? This is the first god damn hand you’ve given me in an hour….” Blah Blah fucking Blah. I waited for him to finish and make his bet, and then I spread our cards. He did have a nice hand. Two pairs. I had a four of a kind.

Sometimes, one just HAS to be a bitch. I gave him the first real smile I had allowed him the entire night and said oh, so sweetly, “OH WOW! check it out- FOUR OF A KIND! You know… If you hadn’t run your mouth and made him leave, THIS WOULD HAVE BEEN YOUR HAND!!!!!!”

I got in trouble for that. However, it was totally worth it.


~ by Layla on December 6, 2012.

One Response to “Karma May Eventually Bite Me”

  1. Layla, I enjoyed this story immensely. It also raises a point, which I will save to bring up in chat.

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