Breaking into the card dealing
businessDear Mark,
I am currently a magazine editor looking to work
part time as a dealer, simply for a little extra income and because I would really
enjoy it. I am good
mathematically, smart, friendly, know all the games inside
and out, a college graduate; in short, a very good dealer. How do I break into
the
business? Any advice? John W. |
Most
newbies looking for jobs pitching cardboard get em in one of two ways: a) going
to a local dealing school and then auditioning, or b) being hired from within,
i.e. boosted from some low-level job at ABC casino, like lugging 50 pounds of
change strapped to your waist. If you cheerfully survive the mule-service, rarely
call in sick, your work history file shows no major boo-boos, and management requires
a few new dealers, you may be sent to their in-house college of dealing. |
|
| But
and you knew there would be a but there are exceptions, of which Yours Truly was
one. It¹s known as the Ironing Board method.
I learned on an ironing board
from Jerry (who went on to become a gaming control agent for the State of Nevada),
then auditioned for a job. Of course, faking it can only go so far when learning
on a hot-press table. Initially, like all break-ins, I got the heebie-jeebies
if a player happened to bet over 50 cents. That¹s right folks, my virginal
hour dealing BJ was on a 50¢ game at the Club Cal Neva in downtown Reno.
After my twenty-minute break, I was assigned a dead $2 game. No problem, no
bettors. I can do this. Then SLOSHY STAN showed up, feeling no pain, and started
betting $5-$25 a hand. Five minutes into his play he got a pair of aces, and then
split them.
Huh, mathematically interesting, I thought, punching my memory
back to the ironing board, but to no avail; Jerry had never mentioned splitting
aces. Actually, a frazzled dealer of ten minds with limited knowledge of the game
does not know what to do or pay when a player splits aces
.
This crisis
situation required drastic measures to avoid total disaster. So I pondered briefly
whether to call over a pit boss and look like an idiot, didn¹t, then pretended
to know what I was doing. I made the airy decision that if you split aces and
got two face cards as lucky Stan had just done, you just got yourself two blackjacks,
so I paid him accordingly.
Stan liked me. Oh Yeah! I was actually paying
this unmerited royalty on spilt aces for most of my first shift until an old-time
pit boss named Dennis Healy (my all-time favorite old-time pit boss) noticed my
generosity and asked, "You¹re new, right," yeah, I answered. "Is
your name Pilarski?" I replied, yes. Then he asked, "Are you Polish?"
Yep, I said proudly. His next words were, "See me on your break."
No
slap on the wrist, nothing from Healy, unless you count being put on secret double
probation and the demotion to the sole 50¢ game in the house for the next
two months.
So to complete my answer to you, John, get a high-grade ironing
board and a watchful roomate willing to spend more than four hours tutoring you.
Gambling quote of the
week: "Life is a gamble, like crossing the road.
One day chicken, next day feathers." -- Unknown
 Good
Casinos Home
More Columns By Mark Pilarski
Have a question? Ask Mark pilarski@markpilarski.com
|
