A couple of nights into last month’s Vegas trip, I got to BSC and had to wait for a 1/2 seat to open up. Fortunately it never takes too long to get seated there--one of the advantages of playing 1/2. Back when I was playing 2/4 I sometimes had to wait a long time. I remember 1-1/2 hours one nite! I had a nice chat with Susan for a bit while waiting. Susan works in the room, getting people chips and showing folks to their game, and is definitely a pal of mine.
She left me to do her job and then came back awhile later and told the person at the front that a seat had just opened at a 1/2 game. And she said to her colleague up front, knowing that I was first up, “Should I take Rob to the table with the crazy ladies?” And so she did.
I didn’t know what she meant at first. But “crazy ladies” sounded interesting. I didn’t ask Susan what she meant, but it became obvious when I got to the table, took my seat, and recognized two of the players at the game. One was Ginger, the pretty dealer who works there and has already been featured in two stories from this trip, here and here (hint: this won’t be the last you hear of Ginger). Sitting next to her was another pretty BSC dealer. Let’s call her Isabel and you’ll soon see why I chose that name. Unlike Ginger, who mostly works the swing shift, Isabel works days. I play at BSC a lot more during the swing shift, but still, most of the day dealers know me by now, and I recognize virtually all of them. I immediately recognized Isabel and I think I knew, even before this night, that she and Ginger were friends.
I said hello to the two “crazy ladies” and Ginger asked me if I had Prudence’s phone number. I confirmed that I did, so she asked that I call or text her and tell her that the three of us were all there playing and that she and Tom should join us. But when Isabel heard that Ginger wanted to Prudence to join us, she made the odd statement, “Prudence? I’ve never seen her drunk!” Ginger, the dealer and I all found that rather amusing.
It was clear as soon as I got to the table that both Ginger and Isabel were off the clock and indulging in adult beverages. So “crazy ladies” it was and I knew this was going to be a fun table. Not sure if I had played poker with Isabel before but it seemed like she was going to be just as much fun as I knew Ginger to be. Thus, the thought of adding Prudence to this mix was definitely appealing to me. Alas, Prudence responded that she and Tom were unavailable.
Within a couple of minutes I was able to switch my seat so I was close to the crazy ladies, and then not long after, Ginger switched her seat from one side of Isabel to the other so she could sit next to me and the three of us were all sitting in a row next to each other.
Ginger began introducing her friend and herself to the other players. But not under their real names (don’t you hate that?). To any guy at the table who would listen (and even some who wouldn’t), she announced, “We’re Stephanie and Isabel. We’re strippers. Our shift starts at midnight. We work the pole.” The male dealer said that Ginger and Isabel would be getting the tips they were giving him back after midnight—for lap dances.
Soon, a player told Ginger he was surprised to hear they were strippers, since he didn’t remember them from the strip club. Of course, I explained that to him. “That’s because you don’t recognize them with their clothes on.”
At one point Susan came by to get money from Isabel to buy more chips. I was busy in a hand and didn’t see exactly what happened, but I heard Susan kind of squeak and then the dealer said, “Oh, girl on girl action.”
What? What? And I missed it? I asked the dealer, “What, kissing?” No he said, it wasn’t kissing. It was more of a grabbing. He wouldn’t go into details but he indicated it was grabbing of an intimate nature. “She grabbed a boob?” Nope, more intimate.
Hmm…..this was frustrating. Sounded like I missed something that was right up this blog’s alley. Fortunately, as I said, I am pals with Susan. I felt comfortable enough to ask her what happened. I wouldn’t be able to ask this of a lot of women, but I felt I could with Susan.
A while later she walked by and I called her over. I asked her if Isabel had indeed grabbed her a few minutes ago. She looked a bit sheepish and said yes. OK, I had to ask. “Where, exactly?”
This time she looked even more sheepish, and said in a very hushed tone, “She grabbed my crotch.” And before I could absorb that, she added, “I told you they were crazy ladies” and then took off. I didn’t see her again that night.
But a few days later, I again prevailed upon my relationship with Susan. I screwed up my courage and asked her, “At the risk of being out of line, Susan, do you know why Isabel grabbed your crotch the other night?” She giggled and said that it was because of an olive.
It seems that Isabel had asked the waitress to bring extra olives for her drink, so there was an entire glass of nothing but olives on a cart between Isabel and Ginger. When Susan came over to get chips for Isabel, she noticed the olives and took one. Isabel then went for Susan’s crotch and said to her, “Hey, you touch my olive, I’m going to touch yours.” She then indicated that she didn’t really grab her crotch, just brushed against it lightly. Still, if a guy did that to her, all hell would have broken loose.
At one point a really skinny, attractive young woman came to the game. She had a bare midriff and definitely had the body to get away with it. She announced she was very new to poker and apologized in advance for not knowing what she was doing. So I asked Ginger if this gal was one of their stripper friends. She responded by standing up and pulling up her shirt, attempting to match the new girl’s outfit. But she didn’t get it very fair and revealed no skin whatsoever.
The two of them were making a lot of noise, to be sure. At one point a player came off from a tournament table while on break to talk to the girls. He obviously had played in the room and knew both of them and knew that they were off duty dealers. He had an Australian accent.
At first he complained about the noise, asking them to please be a little more quiet, as it was actually disturbing the tournament. But he must have been joking. Before I knew it he asked the ladies to join him—and his wife—for dinner. And then, he offered to take Isabel back to Australia with him.
Isabel accepted the offer, even as she pointed out that she was married. Her husband would be fine with it, she said. She even said, if she goes to Australia with him, “the (wedding) ring comes off.” The dealer by this point was Derek, and she pointed to him and told the Aussie that Derek was her husband (he is not). So Derek told her, “OK, but when you go to Australia with him, my ring comes off.” I leaned over to Derek and told him, “you’re set for the night.”
At one point Ginger was “manhandling” Isabel. I dunno exactly how to describe it other than say she was very gently touching, perhaps lightly hitting, her around the shoulder area. The dealer told her to cut it out. Even though she works there, he said, she can’t be “manhandling” the other players. I whispered to her, “You can manhandle me if you like.” But she said no, she couldn’t do that because I’m a man.
I was sitting directly next to the dealer and Ginger was on my right. So one time, I was looking at the two cards I had just been dealt, Ginger folded her hand right into my cards, which I was still touching. In fact, one of her cards actually somehow got between my two cards, even as I was looking at them. The dealer said my hand was instantly fouled. Well, as it happened, I had K3 offsuit so I wasn’t going to play the hand anyway. But as I turned my cards into the dealer, I said, “Ok, no problem this time, but I had my hands right on my cards, was looking at them at the time, and can tell you exactly what they were. How could I possibly protect my hand any more than I had? I was of course thinking of the incident I wrote about here. But unlike that scenario, there was no way I could be accused of doing anything wrong—I still had my hands on my cards when the drunk woman threw her cards into them! How could I lose my hand because of that.
The dealer insisted that it was a fouled hand. After all, I now had my hand on three cards. As I said, it was a moot point since I wouldn’t have played the hand anyway, but I pressed on my view that, had I wanted to play the hand, I should be allowed to since I was at no fault whatsoever. Ginger and Isabel agreed. And because they were rather drunk, they got quite loud in agreeing with me. As it happened, an off duty floorperson who also works at BSC was playing on the other side of the table. The dealer asked for his opinion, but he just laughed and said he was staying out of it. Oh well, there was really no need to pursue it. But Ginger was quite apologetic to me and gave me a nice back and shoulders rub to make up for it. So it was worth it.
It was hard to pay attention to the poker but I tried. There are only two memorable hands that I took notes on and both ended badly. I raised preflop with pocket 10’s and was dismayed to get five callers. A King on the flop was the only over card to my 10’s, so in late position I bet to see where I stood. A check raise from an early position player caused me to fold. Later, after limping with pocket 4’s, I shoved short-stacked with a straight draw that didn’t hit.
But I was having a lot of fun. So much so that I was reluctant to leave to hit the Mens Room. But finally when I couldn’t really wait any longer I left. I think I might have been missed something good. Brent, who had dealt at the table earlier, was talking to the crazy ladies while waiting to push at another game. They appeared to fondling at least his fanny pack, if not more. There were talking about grabbing his tips, and after he left, there were comments about “roll of quarters” and “roll of half dollars.” Hmm…..I think they were referring to something else.
Now when I saw Brent as I came back, I said to him, “Hey, there was crotch grabbing here earlier.” He said, “I know, that’s what I came for.” So while I didn’t see it, and nobody told me about it, it is entirely possible that Brent did indeed get grabbed inappropriately by one of the ladies (most likely Isabel, if it happened at all). I kind of hope he was grabbed. It would have been a very nice thank you for the way he handled the situation for me in this post, and in a way that I would never do myself!
At one point the Shift Supervisor (a different guy from the one in the story I just linked to) came by to see how things were going. I don’t know him well at all, he is fairly new and was just filling in for the regular Supervisor who was on vacation. He seemed to be enjoying the drunken antics of the crazy ladies. Then he looked down at Ginger’s chips and said to her, “You have a dirty stack.” Ginger replied, “That’s because I’m a dirty girl.” He replied, “In that case, what are you doing later?” I leaned over to Jack, who was dealing at the time, and said, “That’s sexual harassment.” I’m guessing Ginger had no memory of the invitation in the morning.
Eventually the crazy ladies left, as crazy ladies tend to do. I didn’t win that night, but it was fun night of poker, to be sure.