BAKIT HINDI MO CRUSH ANG MAY CRUSH SAYO?

I recently heard about the famous book turned movie “Bakit Hindi Ka Crush Ng Crush Mo?” by our one and only fellowman, Ramon Bautista, who was known for his wit and humor. I have neither read nor watched it, but it gave me curiosity. I promised myself to pay attention to it someday.

One fine evening, while having a drink with some colleagues, in one corner, as I was feeling intoxicated by alcohol, I asked myself, “bakit hindi ko nalang crush yung may crush sakin?”. I wonder, do we, Filipinos have to be always negative? Do we need to look on the darker side of the shell than on the brighter one?

Wait a minute, it feels wrong to write it in English… What if… Okay, let me use our own language.

Bakit Hindi Ka Crush ng Crush Mo? – Negative. Hindi ko sinasabi na mali si Ramon Bautista, o pinapasama niya lang ang saloobin natin. Naisip ko lang naman, bilang isang mausisang mamamayan ng Pilipinas, Bakit Hindi Mo Crush Ang May Crush Sayo? – Mas magandang pakinggan. Para bang ikaw ang totoong bida, ikaw ang pokus ng istorya. Ang taray mo! Bakit hindi mo itanong sa sarili mo, nang hindi ka malugmok sa kalungkutan, na kaysa ikaw ang humahabol, ikaw nalang ang hinahabol.

Mas ayos sana, ano? Kasi at least, mutual. May pagkakaintindihan. Hindi mo na kailangan maghanap ng crush, kasi andiyan yung may crush sayo. Siya nalang. Pero hindi kasi ganoon kadali yoon (ayon sa mga kaibigan).

Bakit nga ba?

Simple. Una sa lahat, baka hindi moa lam. Hindi mo naman pwedeng tanungin lahat ng tao kung may crush sila sayo, hindi ba? Ang landi mo na, nagmukha ka pang desperado. Paano mo naman magugustuhan ang isang tao kung hindi niya alam ang iyong nararamdaman?

Pangalawa, super close kayo na barkada ang tingin mo sa kanya. At hindi na lalagpas doon. Umabot na sa puntong nadidiri ka iisipin mo palang na halikan siya, which leads us to the third reason, brotherhood/sisterhood. Sa sobrang malapit kayo sa isa’t-isa, parang kapatid na ang turing mo sa kanya. 

Hindi ka makapag-isip ng malisya. Hindi ba nakakadiri naming kung karelasyon mo ang kapatid mo?

Pang-apat? Baka naman matanda na. Sobrang laki ng agwat ng edad niyo at iniisip mo na pag nalumpo siya, ayaw mo alagaan. At mauuna siya tumanda sayo. Sino ba naman gusto ng amoy lupa? Para kang humahalik sa lupa, hindi ba? Ang magandang halimbawa diyan, ay ang mga bossing mo sa trabaho. Si super lolo, type si Baby Rocket. Naku! Patay tayo diyan. Although meron naman talagang nagkakagustuhan sa gantong sitwasyon.

Panglima, palabiro! Puro nalang biro! Hindi mo malaman kung seryoso ba o nagbibiro! Sana naman aminin mo ang totoo. Yung siguro kayo lang dalawa. O kaya, i-text mo siya! Eto ang kinalakihan ko. Siguro kaya no-boyfriend-since-birth ako.

Anyway, let’s not talk about yours truly.

Pang-anim! Akalain mo, umabot nako sa pang-anim. Isang upuan lang pala sa akin tong blog na ito. Iba talaga ang nagagawa ng SanMig Apple sa akin. To think, I still have to work this morning when I was making this. And I have yet to write my letter of intent kasi lilipat na ako ng department sa trabaho.

Anyway, eto na talaga ang pang-anim, ang pinakamasakit sa lahat, walang “isprikitik fantastic”, walang “zewtzewt”. Nagets mo na ba? Walang Meralco. Walang spark. Masakit to, in fairness, kababae kong tao, nasabihan ako nang ganto sa sulat. At ang sulat na yun ay dapat puro positivities, good lucks, wish-you-all-the-best kinds of letter. And to tell you, I don’t give a fuck on what he thought of me. Basta nalang niya sinabi sa sulat na yon. Wala din naman akong sinasabi na crush ko siya o patay na patay ako sa kanya, ewan ko ano pumasok sa isip ni kuya. Bigla nalang siya nag-feeling. Alpakapalmuks ang tamang termino sa kanya. Feeling niya siguro siya lang ang lalaki sa mundo na dapat kong ibigin. Wow! Ako, iibig?! Parang bago to ah.

Anyway, as I’ve said, let’s not talk about the blogger. I don’t have plans in putting my relationship status in public. I am a very private person. Wow, parang VIP!

Walang spark, walang chemistry, or baka wala naring biology at geology? Baka bobo sa Science? Simply because, you don’t like him or her. It’s not that you really don’t like him or her, parang wala lang talaga. Plain. Boring. Flat. Parang flat worms lang. Parang ang relasyon niyo ay daanan at tao. Hindi naman naiisip ng tao na sobrang importante ng daanan, wala lang sa atin diba. Naglalakad na hindi iniisip baka may nararamdaman yung lupa sa atin. And weird nun ah.

Pero sa totoo lang, I think everybody deserves a chance. We live in a modern world. We have to adapt in some ways. Kahit na sabihin mong Maria Clara ka, hindi moa lam malandi pala siya. Kaya pala naligo si Maria Clara sa ilog ay para akitin ang mga prayle? Hindi natin siya talaga kilala. Hindi magandang maging modelo ng isang dalagang Filipina ang isang kathang isip. Malay mo, ang pagkakaiba lang natin sa kanya ay ang baro’t saya niyang kasuotan? Tayo, naka mini skirt at sleeveless. Hindi ba sabi sa Modess, “Makabagon Filipina”. Hindi na daw uso ang dalagang Pilipina. Believe me, I’ve tried it and see where it got me? Nothing. This one’s for girls, I’m not saying to take it to the next level, lumandi ka. I mean, not all the time boys have to be boys and dapat sila ang lumapit. Hindi rin naman nila alam kung gusto mo sila. Baka natatakot o napapangitan sa sarili. Sabi nga nila, magpakita ka rin ng motibo para alam nila ang gagawin.

For guys naman, huwag maghesitate at huwag din maging makitid ang utak. Mahilig tayo lahat manuod ng American movies, at nakikita natin doon, mas malalandi ang mga babae. Talagang lalapitan ka at kukunin ang number mo, dito, pahirapan! Konting galaw ng babae malandi na. Modern to, baka may mga alien sa paligid natin hindi natin alam. Bakit napunta sa alien?

Anyway, ayon, for everyone, try and try and pray. Natatawa ako habang sinisingit ko ang salitang pray. Kasi totoo nga naman na kailangan ipagdasal mo rin ang taong para sayo kung gusto mo na magkajowa-ers.

Hindi ko alam paano tapusin to pero ganto nalang.

Good luck in finding the person who likes you and will like you too.

"We Are To Blame" - A Dealer's Resentment

Yeah, blame me all you wanted.

Blame me for your unluckiness.

Blame me for you are being stupid and an addict.

Blame me for losing.

You won’t get anything from me. Totally.

Not a single emotion, not a smile, not a tear, not even anger on my face. Just flat.

Call me a jinx and please get out of my face.

Good thing I exercised this Poker Face I have. It’s like my body suddenly transforms to a neutral state when I get assigned at the High Limit Tables, or where the “elites” play the game of luck, Baccarat, and where I have to bother myself computing taxes, and deducting it to their bets when they win.

Sometimes, I wonder how the hell I became very lucky and the players not. I won a lot against them. I dunno, maybe I was just goddamned lucky when it comes to gambling. I never gambled because I’m a casino dealer! And it’s a golden rule not to gamble, or else we would be damned.  My license will be revoked, and I don’t want to risk anything like that. I may be a risk-taker when it comes to style, but, no, not on a serious matter, not on something that puts food on our table.

“Never take a risk on your bread and butter.”

Do you think our management would bother training a thousand employees just to trick players? And I just don’t mean a thousand, but any number you could put before the word thousand. Yes, that’s how much casino dealer there is in my current job. And do you think we would bother arranging eight decks of fucking cards just for the House to win? Stupid idea isn't it?

“You’re a strong dealer!” – Player

“Yeah, so get the fuck out of my table so I could go back to my reverie. And yes, I’m very powerful and strong; as if I’m Wolverine or something.” – My Inner Voice

And you player s do really base everything on the trend you see on the flat screen of my table? Shit. It’s a total bullshit, aside from you being bullshit. You follow it, win a lot, and when you bet everything you’ve won, you lose. “HAHA” – is what my mouth wants to stretch out with. That’s what you get from being greedy. We all know that gambling is a mortal sin. And we all know that there is something evil on gambling, based on the character Gambit.

Oh yeah, I feel like Gambit of X-Men. They are a lot of times when player has a natural eight, and I have a natural nine. Cool, right? And what would happen? They would leave my table, and my supervisor will rejoice. We were like mortal enemies from a movie.

Other dealers were being thrown by the players. Not literally thrown, I mean, player can ask the Managers to change the dealer on the table, and if they all agree, the dealer would be thrown out to a fortuitous state. And what do the players get? ME. Oh yeah, me, until they lose, and lose, and they have nothing left. They just walk out of my table. They could request for another dealer, but what usually happens is they get thrown out of my table.

Players will get rid of one dealer. I get rid of players. Inspector becomes very happy.

There was a time when I couldn't help hiding my feelings. I can’t remember how much chips the player has on his hands, but anywhere he bet, he lose. He bet the last money he had; I had again, the final decision in my hand, where no one could win but draw: a natural nine. He tossed the card on my table, and I cackled. Cackled, I think that was the right word, not laugh, because it was a short laugh. I even looked for the synonyms of it.

BUT… THERE IS AN EXCEPTION TO THIS…

I was assigned to a salon, where elites of elites play. It was my first time, due to employee shortage. I can’t put his name on my blog, because probably tomorrow, he will be assassinated but he was so different. I instantly fell in love with this kind of player. The lowest bet he has was that of a down payment for a brand new SUV. The highest bet was for a house, a brand new car, and a business. You know what he did? Nothing, he just smiles, a lot. Saying something in Chinese, the guy he was with just keep on giving him whatever he babbles in different language. After winning once in about fifteen deals, he finally decided to change table, not change dealer. He’s handsome too. He was a prince, a total package; spare the vice of gambling part. He’s young, when I looked at his profile, he was thirty years old. And I found out that every female dealer likes him because he has a really healthy kind of attitude for players. I want to thank him personally but what would he do to me? He doesn't know me. I was just a dealer, and I am probably nothing to him; just a person who pulls out cards for him to open. I did say “Thank you sir” with a frowned smile, hoping he would see I feel sympathetic for him. He just smiled. And that smiled melted everything around me, as if my body is made up of wax.

Anyway, in conclusion with this blog, I can say that as long as the word “losing” exists, the words “stop” and “blaming” can never be together for the casino industry. The players would never stop blaming us, dealers, for their continued losing. Only one of twenty players would have the same attitude as that of Mr. A. The mystery guy I would call Mr. A.

PS “OMG, we have the same initials. A.C.”

Weird Dreams : September 18, 2013

“It takes 12 to complete the Circle.”

“13 Angels”

“12 Minutes”

I asked myself, is it that time already? Is it the 29^th of the month, when I’m bound to have my dose of crazy dreams? Nope, it was the 22^nd when I checked my phone.

My mind was probably stressed out to make such unimaginable chimera.

There were planes, wings, and pine trees.

I was an angel? I had wings, and was wearing white dress. I was flying about a good inch above the ground. I wanted to fly higher but it is only where my wings would take me. I was flying all over the place, blowing people’s hair, touching the leaves of pine trees, dropping the snow that accumulated on it, and enjoying the glamour it gives me, for not being seen.

I rode a plane. It was still, looking for a new destination. We were on an old, slum-like place of somewhat between China and Thailand. There were flags of Chinese characters all over the place; it was as if a feast had taken place. It was dark and eerie, no signs of life. People were probably tired and drifted to sleep, maybe it was dawn. The plane was some kind of a spaceship for us, angels.

“It takes 12 to complete the Circle.”

But we were thirteen on the plane. But it was the voice I heard in my dreams. I was the thirteenth.

“12 Minute.” I can’t decipher the message it was sending. 12 minutes of what? 12 minutes to where? I have no idea. It was the voice I heard.

I still can remember clearly every detail in my dream, but it’s as if someone is covering my thoughts, and I can’t put everything into words. Anyway, this is the gist of it. I want to remember it in the future.

Weird Dreams : August 29, 2013

It all started on a very dark abandoned building when someone complained of a singing ghost.

When I get there with some shadow hunters, she was already singing. It was very loud and disturbing and as if it’s coming out of a well. She showed her beautiful face and I told her, “Seriously JLo? Stop singing! You’re way over the top.” My companions laughed a contained one and I can see her from the corner of my eye that she smiled. (Yep! The ghost was literally Jennifer Lopez. She was singing her song Tonight.) The kind of smile that means she accepted and understood the fact that you just said. It seems like it’s the only way to make her stop, to know if she was a hit or not. I saw in her eyes that she believed me but still there’s darkness inside it. She went back to the kitchen to sing louder. The kitchen is another room from where we stood. There was no door and you can see nothing in the pitch black darkness that swallowed up this room.

“We should follow her”, I suggested, even though I can sense danger inside.

“No, it’s too dangerous inside.” One of my cousins said.

We waited outside the room.

I saw another ghost on the other side of the room with my faintly lit witch light. (The witch light here was a white rectangular scanner used in detecting fake money. It has different configuration on how you want your lights to look like. But it is basically, faint.)

We tricked the ghost. We turned on and off our lights showing different colors which made it look like there was a party here and weirdly enough, we were singing Tonight by another J, Jessica Sanchez. The girl ghost became really made and suddenly, she was nowhere to be seen.

Someone suggested that I call the police to ask where the nearest shop to buy shadow hunting gears and equipment is. I dialed 911-1111 on the old wireless phone. I explained my purpose and the person on the other line told me to call 256 and some numbers I couldn't recall. I dialed it, and when the operator answered, I gave it to my cousin right away.

“Do we get paid for this?” I asked, curiously.

“Yes. But it’s given every end of December.” He said. He also explained that he couldn't quite compute how much it is every month but gave me an estimate instead.

“Like how much do you get every December?” I asked.

“About Php 400,000.”

I got so excited, with the feeling of earning a lot of money from kicking demons butt and just buying and collecting gears. My cousin stated that sometimes, he only consumed his money for equipment.

We were somewhere that looks like a mall and I was looking through a manual of Bonamanamama, and researching for the materials I should buy.

Some random guy called out to me because I was reading for too long, “Your butt’s gonna get oily.” I smiled and said “I make sure I don’t leave and details behind. I want to make sure I’ll be buying the most important ones.”

We took a narrow escalator and a girl was standing at my back. I was holding my cousin’s DSL camera and the memory stick fell. I don’t know what the files are all about but she was grabbing it from me until we reach the top and I was able to secure the card from her. We entered a small pharmacy and there was her, Bonamanamama, the owner of the shop.

She asked me some details on what I need. “Very well then, let’s get on with it. I will recommend some good stuff for you.” And I was scared for a moment for seeing a friend in her place. She didn't know I was a hunter and I was scared that she heard everything me and the store owner had been babbling all about equipment and shadow hunting gears. She looked like she didn't hear anything at all. So we proceed. We entered a hole in the wall, which was covered in pitch blackness. It looks like a cave.

And the dream was over. I woke up sweating as if I had been running with my back sticking on the mattress. And my hair was sticking on my neck and temples.

THE WRATH OF VIRUS

Okay, I don’t have time to post my blog real-time so let’s just pretend that I posted this yesterday.

I’m excited to finish this day’s duty because tomorrow, September 6, is my day off. As you all know, my rest day is the most precious day for me, and of course, for everyone because it only comes once in a blue moon. Well, not literally once. It’s like finding a pearl in a small clam, or a diamond in the dust, or however you might interpret something that happens rarely. Rest days comes after six or seven days, or worse, eight days, which I’ll be having next week. Even if I’m feeling very sick with this cold that I’m having accompanied with allergic rhinitis and dry cough, I dragged my feet to go to work.

I need to go early to the bank today to deposit money. The sky is turning gray, showing impending signs of rain. I feel deaf. I don’t have my skirt in the conveyor. My mucus keeps on wanting to escape my huge nostrils, and little mosquitoes inside my nose tickle its linings. I tapped my ID to the scheduler machine, and to add up to the list of worse scenarios in my life, I’m on a very dangerous game.

Today, I was assigned on a very sensitive matter. The machine. Once you go wrong, all the bosses will go down the floor, and you’re screwed up, worse, your career will be over. There is no room for mistake in the machine. Once you pressed the button, the mass get paid.

I struggled for the first hour, waited for my reliever, and then went straight to the clinic. Of course, stupid doctor of our clinic won’t let me home with just some stupid colds and rhinitis. He’s so damned strict! I hate the clinic! The white lines of it, the smell, the stupid particular doctor of this shift, expect for the cute nurse who asked me why I was blooming. What do you think I am? A flower? They want me to take antihistamine! Damn! You all know what that means right? Dizziness and sleepiness. Why would I take it? I was trying to be reasonable here! The doctor wants me to take it, but the nurse is quite against it. Yeah right, we have the same idea. I refused to take it. I want to work wide awake, not half brain dead! I have a good night sleep, then what would that be for?

After I took the medication for the colds, (no didn't take the antihistamine), I went back to my manager and asked her if she could transfer me to a nonsmoking area or elsewhere, (I was thinking shuffle room, since I don’t feel like doing anything). Ma’am Imelda was very nice to have put me in the shuffle room.

I badly want to go home, just lie down in my bed, have a cup of hot cappuccino on my bedside table. I applied for early out today before my shirt started. So every time the phone rings, I look straight to the manager, expecting. Half nervous and half excited, only to find out, no, it isn't about me. I look like a dog seeing a bone and suddenly it was gone away from me, with that, I pity myself.

Time passed. 630 PM. Still there was no signs. I took my second break.

Then when I come back, still expecting, the nothing. I waited till 8. Maybe they will let me out by then, because new staffs will be starting their shift at this hour. Still no.

9PM, still hoping.

10PM, I stopped expecting.

After eight hours of what feels like a hundred years inside that incubator, five minutes before 11PM, we were dismissed. Not bad.

And I swore never to go to work when I feel sick. I will never drag myself again!

Got home early, and was happy to see food on the table! I’m starving.

One Day in Casino

For your information, I was trained to deal the game Super Six Baccarat, Three Card Poker, Casino Stud Poker, Casino War and some minor games I don’t mind telling (not important). I was upgraded a few months ago, and was trained to deal the Baccarat in which you deduct five percent to the player’s winning if they bet on Banker’s side, and I was also trained the game of Blackjack, or more commonly known as 21. 

For more information about the game, just type it in Google. I don’t have the whole page for training amateurs.

Since my major game was Baccarat, that’s where I started to get the feelings that I’m not a human. Players would blame me if they lose. I don’t fucking care with your money! And I’m not the fucking one to blame! You are just simply unlucky when we met. Here goes my story of everyday life in the casino.

It’s Monday. I think. I don’t know which date it was anymore, I've been working for seven straight days. Nope, I’m not hardworking; it’s just that that’s really the way it is here, in our casino. You’re lucky enough to be working for just five or six days, minimum is seven days. Some even work for eight or nine straight days. Before, we work maximum of eleven days a week. Even a week doesn't have eleven days, right? And my colleague would often tell me, even God, rested on the seventh day He made the world, right? But that was long before, good thing they changed their ways (in the stupid scheduling department). The max now is eight. We were asked to report early today, instead of three o’clock in the afternoon, at two, because there will be a fucking power shut down. So meaning, I have to go to work by one o’clock to fucking put my make-up, in which my face is staring to age, and do my stupid hair bun, which exposes my bare forehead. I feel naked without my bangs!

Bangs are no longer allowed when we had that stupid, very stupid hair and make-up training. I wasn't willing to attend but we were forced to. And you’re dead if you didn't.

I have one player seated on the table when I got there in the VIP part of the casino. Well, as usual, I feel jittery with the tax, because I wasn't really confident and to be honest, I’m really not a good count. Before I go to work, I pray to have a kind hearted inspector, easy betting from players, and no Banker winnings. The player was nice, until… one old fat Chinese bimbo came over to my table and BANG! Banker wins consecutively. Seriously, could this day get any worse? He was kind of lucky. They bet and bet, confusing bets, (Rolling as they call it; in which whatever you won, you put on top of you bet. So every deal, the bet gets higher. And confusing.)

Just to give you an example. Player bets 10, 000 on Banker. If it wins, I’ll deduct five percent from his winning, so I’ll just pay him 9500. He can give me part tax, 500. Then I’ll give him 10, 000. Or he can give me 1,000, and I’ll pay him 10, 500. And when he adds some more, like if he “rolls” it, he would have bet, 19, 500. So what is the tax? I don’t know. I based it on chip reading. Let me imagine it… the tax would be… 975. So I have to pay him… 25 … 525… 18, 525. Am right? . . . Just checked the calculator. Yes, right. See how hard it is? But once you get to it, I know that we can do it! (Just like Dora’s song!)

And this crap old Chinese bloke keeps betting 100, 000 etc. He wants the table in it’s maximum! Crap! And when he loses one deal, he would say he’s jinxed. Hello, sir?! You already won a lot. You’re a greedy helpless gambler geriatric crackpot!

And please, can we take it slow? Don’t be in a hurry. There are lot more players that wants to bet. And this isn't your table. It’s everyone’s table. If you want, go ahead and ask for a reservation. It’ll be all yours I promise.

Good thing my inspector was okay, he smiles a lot and quite friendly. There was just a little problem with his “S” sound, which I find funny. I can’t joke about it with him; he might get offended and wouldn't help me with my tax. Every shoe (a shoe is a set of eight decks of cards, shuffled) has a long banker. My gosh! Would this day end? I hope this day would be over.

The bloke was already gone, after a few loses. The man on my table, who started my shift making me worry when he will go, stayed. I never got enough time to breathe! Even relationships have enough space, but me? I don’t. Crap! I was violently abused that day!

He was nice, but he keeps on losing. Man! You know what’s on my mind? I really wanted you to win, because you’re not that bad! He still smiles even if he loses. His friend came and we finished another shoe. “Shuffle” – this word is so stressful! I asked if I could rest, jokingly, but the friend said “He will go home by 9pm.” I thought okay, that was fine, I have an hour to rest.

That was a thought… But it never happened!

I checked the time, it was 9… And 9:10, he was still there. 9:30… Still dealing. 945. Crap, I’ll never get the rest I deserve. And 10pm, okay, just waiting for someone to change me. And the shoe was done. Gosh! Marking the cards and the man said he’s finished. And the next dealer is standing right behind me. God! I never get the chance to rest! And the lucky dealer sat there, smiling. Cursed him!

Weird Dreams : July 29, 2013

So, my shadow hunting dreams continued on… It was not quite precise as to what I was reading, because of course, it was a dream, but still I want to keep track of weirdness in my mind.

There she was standing in between of what seems like a church and a ballerina dance studio. The wide place looks very old, rusty and the white paint that coats the edge of the windows were already shredding itself apart. There are no lights, or candles to give illumination to the pending darkness of the night. It was probably around five o’clock in the afternoon. There was no furniture inside. It has one door on the right far corner of the room. The gap between each window was not that big which made it possible to put in a lot of windows on each side of the room.

The name was Sebastian, I thought. The name was of a man, but the figure that came out was of a woman. A woman named Sebastian, who killed a lot of people, and was being chased by us, Shadow hunters. I can’t remember the way she was dressed. We were in the middle of the room which was a few steps away from the window. I slashed my silver whip on the windows, with my gaze still focused on her, and the glass came shuttering. Glass shards flew to Sebastian, and she shrieked. Her eyes full of anger and revenge. Still shocked from seeing the length of the whip, she took a step and, noticing she was about to kill me, I ran as fast as I can. The room is quite large but not large enough to run farther and hide. Somehow, she caught me and held my by the waistband. She was trying hard to reach out for something inside me, which I think was my heart or my intestines, to kill me. The feeling was like the feeling I thought vampires would have when someone was trying to remove their head on the movie Twilight Saga. The feeling was an impending death. I tried hard to release myself from her gasps but she was too strong. I keep on moving so she couldn't get into my heart, and finally someone yanked her from behind.

Then I woke up suddenly in a room almost the same as in reality, except for the wide glass window beside the door. I was in a floor I couldn't figure out but obviously high. Looking down the window, the place outside looks like it was on fire. It was orange red and as if a war has broken down. And there he was, the true Sebastian, wearing shadow hunter gear. He was probably at the entrance of the place I was sleeping at. He was with the others, named Jace, Isabelle and Alec. They were hunting me. I thought they were allies but how come these three were with Sebastian?

An old lady came soundlessly and said that I should pretend to be asleep, or else Sebastian would kill me. And that he always visits me at dawn in my sleep. How long have I been sleeping? The old lady told me that he wouldn't dare kill me while sleeping, but if he sees me now, wide awake, with no hesitation, he would.

Then the scary feeling of just having a nightmare came pouring over me. 

My Life in the Casino

“Oh God. This is slow! I hope the line gets over!”

“Damn, you know I really want you to win. It’s just that you’re not lucky.”

“Stop playing please. You’re losing and I want to rest.”

“Dragging my feet to go back to my table.”

“Why is it slower waiting for five minutes than an hour?”

These are the words that come into my mind whenever I’m working. I realized that I have been putting up imaginative sentences in my mind, pretending that that certain moment is written in a book, be it important or not. I decided to put it into writing so I could make a sense out of it. Instead of pretending to be a journalist, or a true award-winning novel writer, writing stories that I cannot finish, I would just blog about this: MY LIFE AS A DEALER.

Nope, I’m not a dealer of drugs, or a member of a syndicate, or someone who’s involve in networking businesses that call themselves as dealers. I am, no other than, a casino dealer. Yep, you’re right! Casino. I’m not a gambler myself, because to be honest, (and we’re not allowed to gamble, our license will be revoked!) I don’t even know what the games are before I started working as a dealer. I realized I haven’t talked about my current job that much, and more and more friends are asking me what is it like.

So here are the answers! All you have to do is stay tuned on my blog, read, and you can decide whether you like it or not!

Let me start by saying, being a dealer in the casino is HARD. You don’t think we like what we’re doing, do you? Well, as for me, I didn't know what I was applying for that day. My mind was really into the Food and Beverages Department. Well, actually, it was my sister’s idea. She said they wear cute shorts and long sleeves shirt. So I was dragged along into the stupid idea. When I was in the initial interview, I said it and the recruitment person told me that I was overqualified for that position (Nursing graduate here!). It turns out, my sister was the one who wants that but not in the company I was working for right now. Anyway, this isn't about her. I don’t want to get into detail about the interview, long wait, how I landed the Junior Dealer job position. I think the lady applied me for VIP Host, but then I didn't fully pass the Language Assessment for Korean Speakers (hey! I got 3 out of 6! Not bad! And they even commended me for having good writing skills). The VIP Host Manager (Ms. Ana) who interviewed me was really nice, she didn't know how to write or read, and she just knows how to speak, so she turned me over to the noisy bunch of Korean employees. 

Step 1 is Initial Screening where they check your height, the job position you were applying for. It’s just a very informal interview that lasts for about 10 minutes. If you passed Initial Screening, you proceed to HR Interview. You will wait for a couple of hours for your turn.

Step 3, the Language Assessment, which was just for special and talented ones like me, who’s multi-linguist. If you passed, I don’t know, because I didn't, which I heard her on that day that she would recommend me for Table Games department. And that’s how I landed this crap. And I was given extra Language Premium Allowance because they were amazed by my effort.

I was wearing my Chuck’s when I attended the last shit interview. I was so tired of being so formally dressed and end up, sweating hard and having leg pains from heels. My attention was called by the assistant because of it. I told her, “Would I just leave? It’s OK, really.” But, to God’s surprise, I got interviewed A.S.A.P. by the Training Manager, who was very nice! I bow down to her kindness! I shall name her, she’s Ms. Percy. She didn't really scold me from wearing it, just went to the interview right away. Actually, it isn't like an interview, because we just told each other’s life stories, which lasted for about, an hour or more I think. She even thought me the techniques on the exam about Blackjack and getting five percent of something. After the interview, I joined the other employees to take the exams. After the exam, they were instructed to wait for an hour for the interview proper. And I was able to go home early because I was done with the interview.

I think I was brought by God on this job, because He had done everything with His own hands. And if you were wondering, yes, I am still receiving the additional Language Allowance without using it. I don’t use the language that much, sometimes, if I just feel like it. It isn't really required, and not so many people know about it. I was being paid extra for nothing, it’s like that.

It’s been a year and five months now, still working in the same company. Actually, to be honest, I don’t really think I am going to last that long on one company. I am usually AWOL-ing. And now, I am writing my story in this blog, and hoping it would someday end up in award-listings of I-don’t-know category.

My life starts… on the next one.