Angle Shooters; Despicable Poker Scum

I'd like to talk about an incident on a limit table from Saturday, in hopes that some of you can take some good from it. A young girl, no older than twenty-two, sits in seat ten next to the dealer and struggles to understand the rules of the game. She is not unlike other new players; timid, confused, smiley, but most of all just wanting to know what the hell is going on in this game that is taking her money. Everything about this scene is good for poker. She is learning the game and, yes, besides her occasional suck-out, the rest of the table gets to reap the benefits of her mistakes. That’s poker; we all have to start somewhere. With a little luck she might like the game and the next time we see her at the table she will have brought a couple friends; Lord knows we could all use a few more women at the table.

Her struggles are not at all alleviated by the grossly inept dealer. This women shooting cards at us from clumsy, slow and uncooperative hands quickly kills any notion I may have had that all women can do two things at once. This is a person who has somehow managed to elude natural selection, performing a near scientific impossibility by merely surviving to her forties. If you're a dealer, and you think you may fall under this description, it might be time to look for new work. But, Jesus... I'm sorry. A different rant for a different time.

Now enter characters two and three, seated respectfully to the dealers left. Both loose and aggressive players, they are involved in a lot of pots, and both have recently pulled yet out another bill from an over-worn wallet. One man, clean cut and in his early forties, wears Yankees gear as he grumbles about his bad luck. The other is dressed in a motley array of dirty clothes. He's well passed his sixties and quite unpleasant. The entire table has no problem hearing as he blames all the young guys on the table for his crappy cards. Apparently when the twenty-seven year-old on the end of the table wins with J4 suited, the "kid" is being aggressive and stupid, but when the old man does it, it's OK 'cause he had a “feeling" from under-the-gun that his J4 was going to come through for a boat, and thus it is justified.

On the turn, only these three players are still left in the hand together. Old Man bets, the Girl calls, Yankee raises to two bets, Old Man calls, and Girl says, "I wanna raise, what do I do?" This is where the sky fell. When Girl goes to raise, she only puts out the two bets and then asks what she can put out for a raise. Everyone on our side of the table has heard her raise except the dealer who starts to burn and turn, but luckily we are able to stop her. Girl explains she wanted to raise and that she had said so clearly; the whole table had heard it. But the two men in the hand, realizing they are beat, will not stand for it. Floor gets called over because, again, the dealer can't handle it, and the floor, seeing no other option, decides to go with his dealer. Rarely do I ever try to argue for someone on the table, but with this I had to speak up. Angle shooting to take advantage of a new player does not help you in the long run. The two men had clearly heard the raise, but in seeing a way that they may be able to save themselves one big bet each, they end up making a young poker player feel alienated from the game. After another hand she stands up (with the pot she had just won) and leaves the table, probably never to return to a poker table again; not only a loss for our table, but also a loss for poker culture as a whole.

My hope is that something can be learned here. We have all seen seasoned players try to screw a new guy on a technicality. Usually this is done by losing players who can't figure out any other way to win. A poker table is intimidating for a new player and, unfortunately, we cannot always rely on the dealer to help out. When you're at the table and this situation next arises, how will you deal with it? Hopefully you will not be too intimidated to stand up for the little guy (or girl), and put the angle shooter in his place.

-strongmonty

Last Night in Brizzy. Ecstasy Anyone? (part2)

"So what are these anyway?" I asked. As I said, each cook makes their pills so different from the next, using different chemicals and a different method. Due to this variety, each cook will add color to the pill and "brand" them with a specific symbol in order for the average e-head to be able to correctly identify which pill they are eating. The name of the pill is then spoken as the color followed by the symbol. "Hey mate, how were them purple hearts?" "Oh yeah, they were alright. A bit too speedy though…what about those blue moons you had last week, what were they like?" "Fuckin' A man!! They were great!! They had heaps of MDMA but there was just the right amount of speed in 'em 'cause they weren’t too smacky." "Damn, sounds nice! I'll make sure I keep an ear open for some blue moons."
"They're white lightning bolts. Have you tried one before?" As she talked she was working out the cash that was coming into her, and passing back the appropriate number of pills.
"Had one? I haven't even heard of 'em before!" And considering how deep I was within the Australian drug scene that was a rarity. It meant they were probably pretty new.
"Yeah same here," she replied, "but hey, my guy swears to 'em, says they're wicked! He did warn me 'bout 'em, but. Said they're creepers so we best be careful, you – No!" she yelled stopping herself in mid-sentence, "I said thirty, Lumpy!" Eliot, an overly talkative, young blackjack dealer had just handed Sarah a worn hundred dollar bill and was naïvely holding up four fingers. Eliot wasn't fat, not even close. "Lumpy" was a nickname we gave all the new dealers, kind of like a way to haze them. Eliot had been there for about nine months so he wasn't really a lumpy any more, but Sarah had been away for the last six so as far as she was concerned, he was still at the bottom of the totem poll. I had gotten to know Eliot in my last few weeks and he seemed to be an alright kid, but if he thought for a second that Sarah was gonna give him a break — well I guess maybe he was still kind of lumpy.
"Sarah, what the hell?" Eliot whined looking genuinely shocked, "I thought you were joking with that whole 'dick' thing. And I'm not a lumpy any longer anyway! Monty tell 'er I'm not a lumpy any—"
"Hey, man don't get me involved in this. It's not my bowl on the table; Sarah makes the rules."
He didn't know when to stop, "Really, Sarah come on! Two of them are for Marie anywa—"
"Alright, shut-up!" Sarah wasn't one for whining. "I don’t care who you're buying them for, if you want to pay twenty-five then bring 'er over here an' she can buy it herself. If you want four it'll cost you one-twenty, plus another five for lumpy tax."
"But—"
"Take it or leave it," she said sternly, obviously not about to budge.
Eliot could see he was defeated. Bitterly, he reached into his back pocket, grabbed his wallet and fished out another twenty-five, as Sarah grabbed four lightning bolt-encrusted white tablets from her bowl. They exchanged the bills for the merchandise, and quickly Sarah changed back from the cruel businesswomen to the smiling happy-go-lucky temptress, "Next, Please!" she said with a hint of self-satisfaction in her voice. "So anyway, he said they're creepers, so it'll be a good hour-fifteen 'til they kick in."
"That long? Really?" I was legitimately shocked. An hour was a pretty long ass time to be waiting for an ekkie to start working it's magic, but fifteen minutes on top… well, I'd never heard of that before.
"Yeah, that's what he said," she assured me, "But he swears that when they kick in you'll be in for a wicked surprise! That your drink?" she asked, and before I could say anything she had grabbed the drink, popped a pill and down the hatch it went. "I figure I'd put aside ten for the two of us, yeah? It is the last time we'll be partying for a bit, hey. You goin' off to the States and all."
"Ten?" That was a bit much, even for a couple of nightlife veterans like us. "Well, fuck girl! If we're gonna be doin' five a piece tonight, we better get a jump on it, right?" I grabbed two from the bowl, chucked them in my mouth, and took a swig from my Bundy rum & coke, "You're fallin' behind Sarah, you haven't gone soft on me while you been away, have ya'?"
"Ha!" she exclaimed as she grabbed my drink. Two seconds and one more gulp later and another pill was sliding down her throat.
"Well so much for being careful, hey Sarah?"
"No going back now, Monty! Wheeuuuw!"
I knew what we were in for too. In terms of drugs, a "creeper" is exactly what it sounds like. It takes forever to kick in and then when it finally does, it only comes on in little bits. At first your mind gets confused. "Wait, am I high?" you begin to wonder, only to shake it off and realize that, no, in fact you still have complete control. Then it happens again, but this time when you shake it off, you realize you are a little high. Then again, and a little higher, until, "Holy mother of hell! I'm FUCKED!" Bang! Just like that, you're high as an angel, and feeling just as blessed. Sadly, if you're someone who has not done a lot of drugs, this can be a fantastically menacing experience, and you'll probably end up being "creeped" out.
While I'd like to say this was an excessive night for a special occasion, I'd be lying if I did. Yes we were definitely being excessive, but that was really the same as any other night Sarah and I got together. That was a big part of the fun. The more excessive, the crazier the high. Why take one, when you could take two at the same time and be twice as messed up? When you're an addict, as long as you feel like you have an excuse to indulge, it makes it all seem normal, like it's OK, like you don't have a problem. And that night we definitely knew we had an excuse. What we didn't know was just what kind of creepers these would be, or just how hard they'd end up hitting the ekkie virgins of the room.

"Last Night in Brizzy, Ecstasy Anyone?" soon to be completed in Part3

-strongmonty

Disclaimer: Ecstasy is a serious drug that can have negative side-effects. For more information visit: http://www.intheknowzone.com/ecstasy/chemistry.htm

Rebirth of the Sun; Not as Amazing as Poker Astronomers Predict

I arrive at the Mohegan Sun in Connecticut, with great anticipation. After chucking my keys at the hotel valet, I quickly check in, unload my bags into the arms of the bellhop and find my way downstairs to their new poker room. At first glance I was amazed. Though there have been complaints from some players that the lighting is too weak, the majority believes they have hit the décor spot on. Unfortunately for the Sun, a pretty room isn't everything.
Any time a new room opens there are obviously going to be a few wrinkles in the carpet that will need some ironing out. The problem comes when the wrinkles are so big that players can't help but trip over them on the way to their table. With a qualified poker room manager like Bruce Dixon, I was surprised to find that several of the dealers were weak and the floor managers were not much better. The floors working the podium were clearly not yet prepared to be operating the BRAVO system. BRAVO's latest design, engineered to make a poker room run smother, was doing quite the opposite. Floors were erasing waiting lists causing players to be forgotten. Dealers were slowing down their games while trying to figure out as one dealer put it, "some crappy piece of robot." I was flabbergasted by the number of mistakes I was able to witness in just a few hours of play. Granted, it must be acknowledged the opening date was less than a week ago on August 29th and it has been made clear by management that this is only a soft opening, a time to work out the kinks before the grand opening on October 2nd. While staff should be able to pick up the technical skills required by the beginning of October, there were some deeper problems that appear to be a bit more serious.
Poorly trained staff aside, there is never any excuse for rudeness from floor managers. When a player makes an undemanding request, or asks a simple question, a floor manager can never be forgiven for not answering with the utmost of respect and courtesy. Unfortunately, it seemed that for some of the managers at the Sun, a small amount of power is too much to handle, and they had forgotten who in the room were their customers and who were their employees. In fairness, there were many professionally deferential managers on shift, but rotten apples always stick out in a players mind and when one bites into a wriggling worm they are not going to feel like another granny smith anytime soon.
Beautiful, creative aesthetics, while pleasing to the eye, do not top the list of necessities for a successful poker room. With a major competitor like Foxwoods just a few minutes drive away, Mohegan Sun will have to become more well-rounded in order to thrive in the poker-rich area of Eastern Connecticut. It's not to be forgotten that competent Bruce Dixon is behind the wheel. Hopefully, he will recognize their weakness in customer service, and he'll be able to steer the room into a more competitive direction, one that will send ripples throughout the poker rooms of New England.

-strongmonty

Last Night in Brizzy. Ecstasy Anyone?

In no way was my move to the States typical, in fact it was nowhere near how the average person defines moving. Loads of people associate moving with a chore, but I've never seen it that way. When I move, and I've done it a lot, I like to start anew. My possessions are sold off, given away, or simply thrown out. I'm left with nothing but a bag full of clothes, and a laptop. Once I'm down to practically nothing, that's when the major party starts. I didn't know where in the States I'd end up, I just figured that if I partied long enough and kept moving, I'd know my next home when I arrived. Being the party machine (druggy) that I was, I decided I needed one more party in Australia before I could say goodbye. It was not an hour after I had finished my last shift, and my logical brain had already become the unfortunate victim of a foggy dismemberment from the world of the living.
I was determined to make the night something special, for ecstasy pills (or "ekkies" in Aussie slang, pronounced ek-eez) is not the easiest thing to wrap your talons around when you're flying from one city to the next.
It was a huge party. Not only did we have my departure from the country as an excuse to get messed up, but it was also a good friend's first night back from the Caribbean where she'd been dealing cards on the cruise ships. In the casino industry people are always coming and going. Her name was Sarah, and on top of being ridiculously gorgeous she was a harder partier and more ready to have a good time than any bloke I had come to know. Oh, and, as cupids cruel sense of humor would have it, a lesbian. Trust me, I tried… repeatedly. Short hair for a girl, she always had it styled expensively. That night its base was black but red highlights coming from her scalp gave her a devilish, seductive vampire look. She had a body that made heads turn in every club we went to. It didn't matter what sex you were or how you swung, she was one of those people you just had to watch.
In most cultures, being a gorgeous young girl can be quite beneficial, and nowhere is this more true than in the drug culture. This is due to the fact that most of your low-level drug dealers are made up of insecure, exasperating, young guys usually between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two. They want to be popular, and they think the way to do it is to be the guy that everybody comes to, even if it's only because they don't know where else to go. By this logic they probably would have had just as much fun opening a convenience store. Oh my God! I'm so popular, everyone keeps calling me!!! Now you put a pair of boobs large enough to land a jet on in front of one of these kids and what do you think happens? If I give her cheap/free drugs I'm going to get laid! Awesome!!! They're sad to watch in action. I should know, I had been one of them… Ahhh…to be young again…well younger.
My rack wasn't much good at getting cheap drugs, but with a friend like Sarah I had the next best thing. Even though I new it was her first night back, I suspected she'd have no problem getting her contacts going strong once again so I asked if she wouldn't mind picking up some "party favors" for myself and a few others.
If you haven't done a lot of drugs you have to understand that it is very rare to ever get two batches of any type of man-made drug to be made up of the same chemical compound and thus the high is rarely ever the same twice. Creating something like ecstasy is not an easy procedure for anyone that has not done well in a college organic chemistry class, something that not too many ecstasy cooks have bothered with. All of this means that you never know exactly what your high will be like, how high you will get, when it will start, or even when it will end. It adds a little mystery, but usually about forty-five to fifty-five minuets after you pop a pill you start feeling the effects. The patient first experiences excitement followed by euphoria. Senses are heightened and inhibitions are torn to the ground and though hallucinations are rare they have sometimes been reported. The peak of the high will probably only last approximately an hour, but the entire experience will usually last around four.
The small city apartment of the co-worker who had volunteered to hold the party was jam-packed. By that point we had probably managed to cram forty or fifty people into the three rooms on offer. Looking around there were many people from the casino, but at least fifteen who I did not recognize as known drug users, at least not from any of my nights out. Sarah had not yet shown up, and I was slightly worried wondering how these newbies would react when the drugs arrived.
No sooner had the thought bounced through the soon to be abused neurons in my head than the door was blasted open and Sarah stylishly glided through. "The yummy things have arrived boys, eat 'em while their hot!" Sarah was obviously not one for caution.
After gliding her way to the couch that I had been finding quite comfortable, she jammed her experienced derrière between myself and an ex-fling belonging to the both of us, and threw her purse in my lap. I watched in eager silence as she scanned the bowls full of party snacks that were littered atop the new-age kidney bean shaped coffee table in front of us, decided upon the M&M's, grabbed the bowl and turned it right side up scattering multi-colored sugar coated aphrodisiacs across the glass and onto the carpet. A spout of laughter came from the mouths of onlookers whom had stopped their conversations to watch the amusing show that Sarah was always sure to bestow upon those lucky enough to be in her audience.
She placed the now empty black bowl back down and, without turning from her newly acquired workbench reached an upturned palm to me, "Purse please," an innocent smile curled her lips and I obeyed.
The purse opened, Sarah took out a plastic zip-lock bag and dumped its contents into the bowl, "Alright, listen up, and pay attention!" she said unnecessarily; dump drugs onto a table in the middle of any party and your going to get the attention of your party goers. "What we have here is a bowl of one hundred ekkies. They're on sale for the next fifteen minuets at thirty bucks apiece if you have a penis or twenty-five if you don't! If you think that's sexist, too bad, I'm the one with the drugs, and vaginas taste sweeter. After that anything that is left is going to a special driver downstairs and then they disappear so hurry up!"
Did I mention that this girl was a party queen?
As a mass of expectant fun-lovers began to form she turned to my ear and quietly added, "Getting them at sixteen a piece from my boy downstairs means you and me eat for free and I still make, hmmm…well you do the math, Roulette boy! Not bad for my first night back in the homeland, hunh? I love this country, why you leavin'?"

Conclusion to "Last Night in Brizzy. Ecstasy Anyone?" coming soon.

-strongmonty


Disclaimer: Ecstasy is a serious drug. Ingestion of MDMA can cause serious side effects. Get more information at: http://www.intheknowzone.com/ecstasy/chemistry.htm

Poker; Distractions During Battle

If you play poker long enough you're bound to hear the stories about casinos pumping oxygen into the air to keep you awake. This is all crap — a rumor started when a Vegas casino carried through an experiment during the 80's. I'm not absolving them of all their sins. They are still guilty of turning the A.C. down quite low; the human body stays more alert at colder temperatures. Yet, 62 degrees Fahrenheit is still not the core cause for why your eyelids rarely drift shut while sitting at the felt.
The real reason why you can't sleep in a casino, the reason you can stay awake forever, is that your brain is never allowed a moment to rest. Look here! No, no! Look here!!! Flash! Flash! Cherry, Cherry, BAR!! NO! Damn!! What now?!? Flash! LOOOOOK!!! What's this? What on earth is that?!? To be a successful poker player, one has to block all of this out. Put it out of your mind or the distractions will take over and soon enough you'll find yourself just another railbird making up some bullshit story to your friends about how your quad aces ran into a Royal Flush. Don't let in the lights and sounds. Like the word problems from your sixth grade math class, work out what the unimportant, unnecessary information is and discard it. In time you will see the numbers necessary to solve the problem.

-strongmonty