Me- anal retentive?

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Omg, I'm the biggest slob in the world (at home)! How can one with an ADDled brain like mine be anal?



You should see my bedroom and the back seat of my car! It ain't pretty, folks.

Wikipedia says:

A person with such attention to detail that the obsession becomes an annoyance to others, and can be carried out to the detriment of the anal-retentive person.

I was bitching in the break room about not getting enough roulette time and Frank, a floorman, said, "You know what you're problem is? You're too anal! Yes, you are- you make sure every stack of chips is so straight it slows your game down and when you are pushing a stack of 100 checks out? Oh man, you stand there and correct the slightest tilt so that you irritate the customers."


My jaw dropped- but then, in a flash, I could see exactly what he was saying. Just the day before I posted on my favorite internet forum the oddity of my personal slobbiness compared to my constantly straightening out things at work.

I think it started at my last casino when I was a pit clerk. As a pit clerk you have a lot of down time and then suddenly a customer wants a $20,000 marker and 2 other floormen ask you to print up a Player's Card for 3 customers and Bam! you have to scramble to get these done in 5 1/2 minutes.

So, when I would be in one of these rushes and something was out of place and I couldn't find it or an item was missing, I would flash with interior rage and want to throw something across the pit. Once I hit a customer in the arm with a stapler- just kidding!

So, quite often on my many down times I would go through the pit straightening things out and making of list of missing items. It would burn me up if I was in the middle of pit 10 trying to get a marker printed up and assembled in 190 seconds while a floorman was standing over me and there would be no damn stapler and I would have to rush over to the next podium to staple the gorram marker- arrrgh!

So, I called my rummaging forays and straightening sessions anger management. The goal was to keep me from letting fly a curse or a stapler in the middle of a rush.

Hence, I became anal retentive.


Nowadays, I remember my early days as a scrub dealer 12 years ago when the floormen used to walk by my table and growl at me, "Fix your rack!" That was a novel concept for my ADDled brain. It makes much more sense for me today.

So, I am constantly pausing my game (only for a few seconds) and making sure all my checks are in stacks of 20 and are only being emptied from the right side of the rack. When I first come on the table I do not look at my customers, I look down and see what sort of mess the previous dealer left for me and start straightening things up. Then I look up at my customers and deal with their "Oh no, Frank's gonna take all my winnings" anxiety. (Players are the most superstitious people- it's really kinda amusing- when I gamble I harbor none of that- it's pure logic to me)

Quite often, on a dead table, I will discover a stack of checks in my rack to be at 19 or 21 (I've learned how to count the checks, difficult as that may seem) and will call a floorman over so I can straighten it out. When the black checks are wrong it drives me nuts.

So there you have it, Frank, the Vegas Baby, is anal retentive. Good God, next thing you know I'll be giving seminars on how to organize your life!
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Mistake corrected, thanks to a star employee

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Wow, not only did he get Swing back- but he got his seniority restored, too!

Vegas Baby sure lucked out. Eric, the Imperial Princess's scheduler, did his usual professionally excellent work and with one call yesterday put him back on Swing for the week after next and on top of that set it up so he got his seniority back!!!


This is not the first time Eric has come through for Vegas Baby. He did a great job accommodating his start at the Imperial Princess too. Every time he called Eric he got a professional and thoroughly competent response. Great customer service.

Kudos to Eric, the star scheduler.

Doh!!! I made a mistake and lost my seniority...

I overreacted to a certain type of stress from an individual source on Swing shift and lost shift seniority.

Instead of taking a floorman's advice and confronting the stressor source politely I fled. I suppose it's a bit of cowardice. The emotional intensity of this stressor colored my vision so strongly that I failed to see the advantages of taking the floor's advice. So, I fled like a whipped dog.

I submitted my request to change to Days. I felt very angry about having to do so for several moments throughout that week. I did nothing wrong (except to refuse the advice and give the stressor a chance to be human) and now I had to lose the friendships I forged and all the other perks of Swing.

A couple days before I found out my request was approved the stressor did indeed become much more human and all the stress ceased. I wondered if it were too late to rescind my request.

Three days later the new schedule came out with me on Days AND with Friday and Saturday off- argh, I forgot we lose seniority when we switch! I had just started getting weekend shifts with the higher tokes, damn!

Well, yesterday as I was discussing my income problems with my international friend who was visiting from across the Pond, I was telling her how I called Eric, the scheduler and found out that there would be no real job time improvements due to any dealers quitting to work at the Palazzo which is opening any day now. Which means I will still only be working 3 to 4 days a week and had to get a second job.

In mid sentence I suddenly realized that my chances of working a second shift were drastically reduced by my switch to Days. On Swing I don't report to work until 8 in the evening. Which gives me about 6 hours from 1 pm to 7 pm where I can work a second job. But on Days my time is too limited to work a typical part time shift. Soooo, I decided I would have to go back to Swing.

Also, it dawned on me that I could not attend family dinners if I worked from noon to 8 pm. And Christmas dinner was so wonderful I really do not want to miss them... ever.

So, that is how Vegas Baby lost his seniority.

Christmas in a casino

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Got my first Christmas card of the season.

It came from the sweetest dealer in Las Vegas, Monica from Vietnam. She is the epitome of fresh and sweet and innocent. Though she's tasted the sadness of widowhood in her 20s she is a spring of goodness and cheer, perfect for Christmas.


Monica

How to Survive and Thrive as a Break-in Dealer

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Okay, so you're on the way to fame and riches as a Las Vegas dealer. Sure you're in a house now where you're earning under a $100 a night usually. But one day if you play your cards right (hahaha) you'll be earning over $70,000 a year.

But how do you make sure you survive the many pitfalls of a break-in dealer? How do you thrive in the meantime?

Here are some simple guidelines that can help you make it to the Big House.



These come from dealers with decades of experience in Las Vegas gaming, so listen up and make sure you stay on the right track.

First Rule: Never correct your own mistakes on a table game.

When you make a mistake on the table always call the Floor over. Remember you're being watched by Surveillance and you're handling thousands of dollars so every move you make is being watched by the Eye carefully.




Even if you've called your Floor over several times already and you don't want to look stupid by calling him over again- call the Floor boss over anyway. You just have to do it.




My dealing mentor who has 30 years experience told me that she's seen dealers get fired for making their own corrections. (I HATE when that happens...) And these are dealers with years of experience. A break-in dealer on probation or with less than a year's experience is even more vulnerable.



Second Rule: Never argue with your Floor.

Just do exactly what they say. He is the supervisor and if anything goes wrong it's on him or her. Plus when things are stressful during a game and a fast decision needs to be made it is best if only one person is making it. There is little room for a quarrelsome dealer in a break-in house.

More to come ...

AND what questions do you have about dealing that you would like to know? Email me at jimbo123@live.com.

Jobs Galore in Vegas!

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Ok, folks, this is the first wave of the great opportunity for Vegas dealers (and all hotel employees as a matter of fact).

Vegas Baby has been very unsatisfied with his financial outlook lately. Having to dodge cops because of not being able to register his car, let alone cover his other bills has been driving him to distraction, not that that is hard to do.

Some days he would just sit at home in his digital cavern doing his own online thing and avoiding going out, not leaving the house once to spare him unnecessary drama and terrible costs if he gets stopped by Metro or the Highway Patrol.

He asked to be promoted to dual rate supervisor/dealer since many of his fellow scrub dealers are doing so and they are getting almost 40 hours of work every week. He then hit up break-in casinos around town, especially downtown for full time jobs. As well as signing up at the Dealers Employment Agency and a Temp agency for telemarketing gigs. None of which yielded any fruit.

Now suddenly he realizes that the first big shift in the dealer employment in the Vegas scene that his Vegas Mom and Dad have been telling him about which will make dealing a very lucrative career in a third of the time it took them is upon him. The first wave of an impending three. Next is City Center and then the Encore.

City Center

Wynn's Encore

Just 3 days ago Vegas Baby planned on settling for 40 hours a week at a break- in casino so he could make ends meet at about $31 grand a year. But as he became aware that the new casino expansion opening was looming and he was coaching a fellow break-in at the Imperial Princess who had 9 months experience to shoot for the top casinos and start making $70 grand a year plus, it hit him.

Vegas Baby has Juice.... Sure he has to learn his games and still hit the pavement to hustle for the good jobs but not like this gal did. Sure she was a cute young and pretty Asian girl, but she didn't have a patron in the industry that's famous for connections to achieve career advancement. He has Juice!



So he called Vegas Mom and introduced the idea of exercising said juice next month. She sputtered and backtracked.... Vegas Baby realizes she doesn't want to be embarassed by her ADDled brained son. And he understands her sentiment. No one wants to look bad to peers they have known for decades.



But Vegas Baby has grown much in the past decade. Sure he got into trouble in his 20s and never held a job for long until his 40s. BUT he did hold a banking job for over 6 years recently and he is sure that fact motivated Vegas Mom to encourage him to get into gaming with the idea of her using her influence for him- something she never would have done 10 years ago when he tried dealing previously withou daring to breathe a syllable about using her juice for him.



So, this is the scoop for the Vegas dealing scene:

The Venetian, a very posh megaresort, is about to double with an expansion called The Palazzo. Where they will be hiring beaucoup dealers- and there will be hundreds of them who will be putting their 2 week notices in around Wednesday, November 28th, he would guess, since Palazzo's Orientation starts on December 11. So he figured the rest of the casinos in Vegas will get the idea that they will have to do massive hiring around Monday, December 2nd. And smart, savvy dealers like him and those who read this blog will be hitting the casino bosses up that Monday.

Sooo, while Vegas Baby will be hitting up break-in downtown casinos and elswhere in town, hell, even Mesquite! he is also gonna probe for positions at his 3 fave casinos all of which generate more than $70,000 a year in income and are truly dream jobs as far as morale and a great working environment go.

Vegas Baby is getting excited!

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Might be the last blog post for a while...

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Vegas Baby has been in a funk for a few days lately. His atrocious financial problems are overwhelming his ADDled brain.

He expects the cable company to cut off his Internet connection tonight since his check by phone payment bounced this morning.

So, Vegas Baby is thinking of any last things he might wanna say to the three and a half readers of his blog....

There is a minor controversy at his casino about which hand to use to pay the 2 spots that are to the dealer's left on a multi-deck blackjack game. The issue is when a dealer pays those spots with his right hand then he basically turns his back on the right hand spot (third base), leaving open the possibility that player could cap his bet or something. He was trained to pay with his left hand to prevent such a thing. So, when he saw Liao, the sweet, mild-mannered new dealer, pay with her right and corrected her on it she said she was trained that way.

So Vegas Baby brought it up to a floorman and he agreed with her, pointing out it would cause the dealer to no longer cover the exposed card on the shoe and decrease game protection. Another floorman told him paying with the right hand was Imperial Princess's policy but a left handed payment was so small an issue they don't correct dealers on that during a game. That floorman also said since the third base player is already paid off at the end of a hand then there is no longer a concern about him capping his bet.

So, the next hour Vegas Baby was on a multideck game the first base player busted and as he went to pick up his lost bet he realized that indeed at this point in the game his back would be to the third base player. So, he decided to stick with his training on that.

He called Vegas Mom about it and she said her standard, "Do what the Floor says, don't argue..." but also said it was ridiculous to pay with one's right hand. The first floorman said in order to avoid third base capping to "walk the table" which means step toward the first base player when taking the bet with the right hand to make it easier to keep an eye on third base. But the right handed action still seems to Vegas Baby to make his back turn too much to effectively protect third base.

Vegas Baby thinks the value of covering the front card on the shoe is low compared to preventing capping a third base bet....

For any dealers who might be reading this (all one of you), what say you? Vegas Baby wants to know.

Kudos To The Most Powerful Black Man In America

and quite vilified too, since he doesn't fit the politically correct mold of a powerful black man.

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Clarence Thomas who grew up facing discrimination, segregation, utter poverty (he once lived in an unheated house with no plumbing and raw sewage in the backyard) under a deeply principled father figure went on to become a Justice of the Supreme Court.

For that and his unapologetic conservative views he was said to be not black enough, an Uncle Tom,

amongst other things and at his confirmation hearings in the US Senate he was bullied and browbeaten in a liberal litany typical of qualified conservative judicial appointees, but then came Anita Hill who falsely accused him of sexually harassing him. The sheer ludicrousness of her claims are another story.

But this man stopped the liberal crank senators in their tracks and left them speechless with one simple statement. After which they went on to send his nomination to the floor where he was successfully confirmed. The bold and truthful statement that shut the mouths of his detractors? Well, here it is:

This is a circus. It's a national disgrace. And from my standpoint, as a black American, it is a high-tech lynching for uppity blacks who in any way deign to think for themselves, to do for themselves, to have different ideas, and it is a message that unless you kowtow to an old order, this is what will happen to you. You will be lynched, destroyed, caricatured by a committee of the U.S. Senate rather than hung from a tree.

You can hear it for yourself at 5:25 of this YouTube video, which is part 3 of a 60 Minutes interview last Sunday of Clarence Thomas.


Well, this week his autobiography was released, My Grandfather's Son. I bought it as fast as I could. You can get it from Barnes and Noble, but it must be selling fast because they take 1 to 3 weeks to ship, Amazon takes 3 to 6. I bought it at the local Borders.


Let me recommend this books, folks, it shows how a great thinker was shaped by his childhood. It shows the struggle and sufferings one must endure to achieve greatness. If you want to be great, read it and take the lessons to heart.

*** Vegas Baby knows this is a departure from his usual writing style, but he was overcome with passion for the truth and admiration for a truly great man and could not help himself. So deal with it.

Dark days ahead...

Once more doubts about his successful future assails Vegas Baby....

He is awash in cash debt. New car's down payment, insurance and registration has absolutely no room in his weak, spindly budget. He realized he should have seen this coming, but when it comes to details, he rarely has such foresight....

And to complicate matters he made a huge mistake and totally depleted his bank account. He felt the extreme fool with $8 to his name for another 10 days before payday.


Sooo, on his Task List on his smartphone he has a) pick up button extenders and b) get $2500.

And to think, he spent $2000 on his dying Caddy's cooling system just before it overheated and killed the engine.

Oooh, he could use that money now. That was the last of his savings from his 6 years in the credit card industry. But, he does have his angel who is gonna send him $350 which is a big sigh of relief....

Saving The World

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She really doesn't believe that I am saving the world by playing Solitaire and drumming to music. I explained to her how I was beating back the dark forces of defeatism every time I won a game- which she calls Patience in her British manner, they have such silly ways with the English language.

“I began to realize the import of winning at Solitaire, Mary, when I noticed that just before I would win it would appear so bleak. The right card just wouldn't show up and there was the looming threat of the order I was trying to create being bogged down by the forces of chaos.” I said to her over a few pints of ale. That's Anglo for beer, silly Brits.

“Rubbish!” was all she said.

“Yes, dear, I was winning out over the rubbish of the cosmos!” I said, wiping my chin and looking at her hazel, mocking eyes. She has constantly insulted me from the week I fell in love with her. Apparently the Redcoats think that's endearing. I still hadn't forgiven her for calling me an idiot in front of my friends during the Superbowl last year.

I waved my hands in the air. “You see, we are in a constant battle with chaos, the waste of the world clouding our creative expressions. And when I win at Solitaire, when I persevere once again at the task of organizing that small universe and pay no attention to the nagging doubts clawing at the back of my brain, telling me to just give up, it's useless and will get me nowhere- when I overcome all obstacles strewn in my path, I add to the victory and success of the whole planet! Don't you see?”

“Pillock!” Was her brief reply. I looked at her, trying to remember the distinction between pillock and bullocks and bollocks, my mind swimming in more confusion. There were thoughts of idiots, big male steer and testicles rolling around in my head.

“And when I do synchronized percussion to my favorite songs I am also beating back the forces of chaos....” I said, downing the last of my ale.

“Synchronized percussion, bloody hell, you cheeky bugger!”

“What?” I protested.

“Your use of English is a bit overmuch, you pikey.” She said, and then tossed back the last of her ale. “You really mean drumming- synchronized percussion... really!”

“Well, it denotes more of what I wanna say. Drumming is- is so generic!”

“Rubbish! It's the everyday way of speaking. You've been reading too much Macbeth, my literary genius...not!” She said, her hazel eyes once again mocking me. “And don't use denote, pah- ur such a ham.”

I sighed and said, “So, you really don't believe I'm bringing one iota of good into the world?”

“Not by your Patience and banging your fingers on the table top, you silly bugger. You do it by being open and kind and by spouting your values in your silly, playful way.” She said, her soft green eyes staring directly into mine.

“Hmmm,” I said, “Mary of South London... I love you.”

A new car? He thinks he might be out of the woods...

"A Chevrolet HHR... wtf is an HHR?" Vegas Baby thought to himself. "Oh, that's what it is... yuck!"




It ain't no



and it sure ain't no



but beggars can't be choosers and he was very grateful that he was driving instead of walking and taking the gorram bus.... AND it has COLD air conditioning, is zippy enough for a 4 banger, has a decent sound system and it's NEW! That's an odd feeling, a brand new car, maybe he'll make it after all, he thought to himself....

Vegas Baby had consigned himself to the state of carlessness in his heart of hearts. Then a mailer came from Fletcher Jones Chevrolet claiming he could get funded for a car note and to call and submit this secret code and he would be told how much. "Yeah, right," Vegas Baby thought to himself. BUT he did just get approved for a couple teeny credit cards and maybe....

The dealership called him the very next day and after mulling it over for a few days, he thought he might as well go in and see what could happen. He was only on the new job for 3 months and just before that he got turned down four times by other car dealerships on a $12,000 car and had no money for a down payment, so Vegas Baby thought his chances for getting approved for a car were about the same as his chances of finding a good woman- wait- he did find a good woman! Hmmmm....




So, he went in and Fletch himself


asked him, "What about a new car?" after looking at an 05 Nissan Sentra with 26,000 miles on it and he said, "Sure...." And the rest is history.

As Vegas Baby was writing this blog post, Fletch just called him and told him the loan was approved and his payments would be lower than predicted and to come in tomorrow to sign the documents. "Wow," the future millionaire thought to himself, "a good woman, generous friends, healthy kids, a new career, and now, a new car... all this and heaven, too!"

Confessions of Vegas Baby and Can One Really Love One's Job? And Dangerous Thugs

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10 at night and no ride- Dealer Buddy got off an hour before Vegas Baby- so it's a $2 ride on the behemoth bus home.

Vegas Baby raised an old friend on AIM in West Virginia, a college student genius. That helped to pass the boring bus ride time.

His international lover told him the day before that she'll be largely unavailable that day so he didn't try to hard to sms her. He forgot that they frequently posted their daily doings on twitter.com. There is even a way they can send their sms's to each other to avoid international text charges, but he couldn't figure out how to do that.

Vegas Baby remarked to his self about how much he loved the casino industry. He always liked to play 21 and discovered during his pit clerk job that he loved to serve people. Pit clerking was only the 2nd job in 31 years of working that he loved. And he felt the same about dealing.

During his first couple weeks, when he was just learning the huge amounts of little details of pit clerking, he despaired that he would be terminally bored at it. But after mastering the basics he found he loved meeting the needs of the players, dealers, floormen and pit bosses.

His greatest delight was meeting a need discerned by his intuition and observation before anyone asked him to do anything. Sorta like Radar O'Riley on MASH.


He thought for years that his was a sales-oriented personality, since he spent years selling on the phone in different capacities. First as a hardcore telemarketer then as a customer service rep in a credit card call center then as a collections agent for the same bank.

But this pit clerking job taught him that he had a deep need to meet other people's needs. At the same time that he discovered this, geniusbabe, his second fave friend on Second Life, told him after he showed her this line he composed at his pit clerk job one night, "I am your ally, I am your servant. Together we will vanquish every foe," that he may really enjoy exploring the BDSM role of a "sub." to which he replied, "bullshit, I'm too independent for that." her patient explanation of such role-playing made him think twice.

He never took it up, though, realizing that he didn't really fit that mold. There were very few molds he did fit....



On the bus he chatted up 1 of 3 girls he mistook as Italians but were actually from the Czech Republic. She expressed surprise at his age and that he didn't look European at all.

After the girls got off, Vegas Baby made the mistake of cocking his head to the side and glancing back at some noise coming from some punk's music player, loud and distorted which repeated over and over. Two black teens then got up from the back of the bus and sat next to him and the one closest to him started dancing in his seat, singing snatches of rap and staring straight at Vegas Baby. After a couple minutes Vegas Baby looked at the dancing boy and the black kid stared back at him and gyrated, rolling his head back and forth.




Before he could think, Vegas Baby said in a loud voice, "Are you fucking with me?" The negro youth simply stared at him and gyrated.

His cohort spoke up, "Nigger just enjoying his music."

Vegas Baby, knowing his mood would not allow him to stay silent and that there were several more black youths behind them, stood up and walked down the stairs of the doubledecker. While the Negroes said a few more words.

The Deuce turned in to the DTC and he got off, carefully monitoring their movements behind him. He heard one of the Negro teens say, "Are you fucking with me?"

He wished he had a gun once again. And he was relieved they walked to the opposite end of the depot.

He decided not to wait at the depot for the 35 mins before the next 215 E left. He walked the 100 yards to Fremont Street.

On then way he saw a production crew working on a commercial for IHOP.

Once ensconced at the Four Queens he counted his change and bought the football full of beer, 40 ounces for $9, including tip, and stayed in the air conditioned casino free of Negro youths.

Questions in the dark

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As he strode through the streets on a hot, sweaty night seeking his home, Vegas Baby asked himself, "Do future millionaires actually walk the dark streets of ghetto Vegas cuz they're too poor to drive?"

Taking the Strip bus home

Crap! Vegas Baby thought to himself, his ride home fell through. His dealing buddy got called to get home to his baby fast.
He took another pull on his Bud Light as he sat at the bar at O'Sheas, the casino next to his. They had this midget dressed as a leprechaun who got up on the bar blasting this whistle and giving willing gamblers a free shot of some green concoction. He waved the little guy away as he stood over him in bright green shorts and a green bowler.
He didn't like waiting for a bus when it was 100` after dark. Dealer Buddy was a tamed hellion, who's hard drinking and gambling ways were brought to heel by the birth of his baby boy. Vegas Baby had never seen a soul so turned around so deeply. He could tell Dealer Buddy was totally committed to his new family.
He drained the last of his cold beer and left the leprechaun to his act. He had a bus to catch. He swam through the crowded sidewalk and made his way to the Deuce stop in front of the Flamingo. He almost argued with the bored bus driver over the cost of a transfer fare being $5 almost 2 1/2 times the normal fare. Instead he looked the bus driver in the eyes and paid the one way fare.
Dealer Buddy and he formed an instant friendship the first day they met during Orientation. He was half Vegas Baby's age yet there was a strong equanimity between them. He offered him a place to stay at a decent price. He even found a used car for sale. Except it was an old Bronco and if he was gonna pay $1200 ( and where the hell was he gonna fine that money?) on a car he wanted something Asian due to their durability.
Tomorrow was payday and he wanted to delay any money decisions until he saw the dough in his Acct. He often had to do things in simplified and segmented ways to better sort through the dizzying minutiae of detail which easily boggled his ADD brain.
He was driving his international lover to despair with his convoluted ways. She would go back and forth between romantic delight in his poetic ways and utter agony over his idiosyncracies. Weeks before meeting her a dear friend in Second Life once asked why he was lonely, given his looks and what she saw of his character, he was at a loss for words at the time but after witnessing Loverbabe's reactions he was once again reminded of the maddening reasons. One of his favorite ex's, Singerbabe, told him at the end of their love affair, "I love you but I can't live with you."
He leaned against the glass resting his forehead on his arm and looked at the wedding chapels pass by and listening to a tourist telling another about that chapel where Brittany Spears got married for a whole 23 hours. He looked at the cars on the darkened street and thought about how he was gonna have his one splurge once he made over $60,000 a year: a brand new red Corvette. And how he would install a very loud foghorn in it for the idiots on the road as well as a powerful loudspeaker also for the ever-present fool.
Almost the entire bus emptied at the Fremont Street stop. The tourists were on their way to more of the rougher glories of Vegas. He was left alone in the upper deck of the Deuce.






He looked at his watch and thought he might make the bus that goes closest to the Compound without running 6 miles out of the way first. He had 7 minutes.
He looked at all the different people at the DTC at 10 30 PM on a Wednesday night and wondered how many stories they had to tell.


How did the old man get crippled?



What was the drunk Indian's father like?

Life can be humuliating

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Vegas baby wakes up to realize he has no money for the bus.................

He calls a friend for a ride to work and she initially agrees then berates him for his lifestyle and retracts her offer.

He calls his daughter who hasn't the time.

He finally calls one of his sons who is on the way.

Vegas Baby knows one must suffer in this life, especially if one is trying to achieve a big win. Especially if one has bipolar and the deep impulsitivity of ADD.

Sometimes, when it is darkest, he wonders how much he can take.

He turned the car rental in last night. He got a message from the mechanic who charged him $2000 for overheating the past 6 weeks that he was incurring storage charges on the car that died of overheating problems.

He listened to his friend berate him for dropping the intense prayer lifestyle he led for the past couple years. "This is God telling you to get back right with him." Ugh.

He has to call the sods at Enterprise to tell them the car is still on the Stolen Vehicle list. And that it needs to be recovered by the police or the next driver can get stopped at gunpoint with them thinking he's the car thief.

He has good friends and he thanks God for them. But he sure has his dark moments....

Things will get better, he thought to himself, they have to, right?

This is Vegas, baby!

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I went to my old haunts tonight with my lovely 18 year old daughter and her beau for my birthday dinner. She mentioned she was low on money and I was dead broke so I decided to go to my old casino where I worked closely with the floormen and pit bosses as a lowly pit clerk.

I was a bit anxious at exposing myself and mooching for dinner and wondered if it would take me an embarrassingly long time. But at my first stop in pit 10 I saw Nancy, the dual floorman and pit boss. She had always been excellent in her customer service to me as a boss and the day she discovered I got hired to deal at the Imperial Princess she confronted me and told me to see her after I dealt for a year and she would get me a job at one of a couple of Strip casinos (my guess is the tips at them average around $60k/yr) which honored me to no end.

Well, I told her it was my birthday and she asked me if I was hungry and then wrote a comp for the 3 of us and 2 rounds of drinks. What a fine boss!



So, we went to the casino coffee shop, which, folks, is quite a thing at a posh Strip casino, one of the largest in Las Vegas. Well, you can see from the pictures that it was a great meal. Steak and lobster (filet, that is), Rib Eye steak, chicken fajitas and 3, count em, 3 appetizers. The waiter kept trying to give us more and more food, all for a better tip, of course. Huge Scampi, chicken wings and the best Brushceta I've had in years.... The check was over $200. This joint knows how to treat you nice.

My daughter kept expressing guilt over the extravagance, and asked me how I knew the bosses here and all. I just explained to her that this how Vegas worked. We take care of each other.

I told her it's like we are building covens of followers whom we help along the way in the casino industry. I told her about Milo (true name since this is post-humous), the man I never met but who benefited my family economically for 20 years. Mom would always talk about how Milo did this for her and did that. As he prospered and went from a better casino to another better casino he always took my mom with him. And she made more and more money. One day she told us that Milo died. Our juice who had prospered our family for 2 decades was gone.

But by then she had widened her juice network and eventually landed jobs at the top casinos in town, earning almost six figures. Yes, folks, I said six figures. In fact, it was a six-figure amount she showed me that fateful day last summer when she took me out for lunch to compare our incomes and illustrate my need to jump on the Vegas money train.



Now, she has juice waiting for me when my dealing skills get to par, especially my roulette. But, she wisely suggested to take the pit clerk job at the famous casino I mentioned where I have generated my own juice.

You see, folks, if you have a commitment to excellent customer service and you work hard at it, which wasn't hard for me cuz I got joy out of giving it, and you learn the basic dealing skills casino bosses are going to go way out of their way to further your career.

So, Johnny Lee, the young chinese pit boss who earned my favor by deliberately learning the names of all his lowly pit clerks and just establishing a warm human connection with everybody, told me on my last day there that he would juice me in as a dealer. I was floored. I thought he was joking but he made it clear that he was dead serious.

Sometimes it floors me to think how easy it is to get a job earning $70,000 a year at merely 40 hours a week. It feels surreal, folks, like I'm cheating somehow.

In many circles such talk would be quickly labeled pipe dreams and boyish fantasy. "You think you're just gonna waltz in there and in a year be earning over $60 grand a year as a dealer? HA!”

But, my mom is doing it, my step-dad did it, and I see hundreds of dealers doing it every day here! I mean, you gotta be stupid to shun the job opportunities in Vegas! If you like people and can add to 21, are willing to give excellent customer service and give up holidays, it's a cinch.

Today's Vegas Baby's Birthday...

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He just turned 26 all over again.

The guys at PC Mechanic set up for Vegas Baby a hearty Happy Birthday thread.



His international lover sent him a QuickCam for international video messaging.




Because of his casino shift he's gonna miss his family's big birthday dinner at an Italian restaurant they have each year cuz several members of his family have birthdays in July. This is common for Vegas families, casino workers often don't celebrate Christmas and such on the proper day due to their inflexible work requirements.



But Vegas Mom called him this morning and wished him a happy birthday and said she'd take him out for sushi next week.

So even though Vegas Baby's still terribly broke, he's rather happy today.


.....................Happy Birthday, Mr. Dealer Extraordinaire..................