"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.”