January 28th, 2009- This is what I deal with every day, folks!

Johnny Coldeck’s Tales from the Floor

We need to quit passing out fliers at the local trailer parks for our little card room. Sure, we get the new players, but I’m not sure it’s the caliber and breeding of player we were hoping to attract. This month we acquired two new players, neither of which could be classified as “high-brow” by any stretch of the meaning.

Carney Joe, a former circus performer, still expects the special attention and privileges he received during his heyday, but it is his relationship with his overbearing wife which presents the most challenges to our staff. Joe hobbled in twice this week, sporting a bulky cast on his left foot (we don’t know). I should say at this point that the front of our place has large windows situated in such a manner that the players can see the legs of passers-by. Anyway, we had a nice little game brewing on Wednesday, and Joe called a twenty-dollar raise from the big blind, when he suddenly sprang from his seat and pulled a David Copperfield, vanishing into thin air! The USA’s best 100 meter Olympiad would have taken the silver to Carney Joe and his gimpy leg making it to the back door of our bar this day. Now, the inductive reasoning capabilities of our poker players would rival those of Sherlock Holmes (okay, at least Watson). It took us a mere four minutes to piece together The Mystery of the Disappearing Gimp. The big clue came when one of our female dealers burst through the front door milliseconds after the event, apparently late for her push. She made it in time to see only the confusion on the faces of the players at the table, and perhaps to feel the small vacuum in the space-time continuum created when Carney Joe violated the laws of physics by exceeding the speed of light. Anyway, by the time Joe called from his cellular phone, we had it figured out. When he asked, “Well, Johnny, am I busted?” all I needed to say was “Coast is clear, Joe, come on back.” Nope, it was Karen the dealer and not his wife this time.

Closely behind Carney Joe and his marital bliss came boisterous, loud, fun-loving and obnoxious Car Dealer Mike. Now, I have never sold cars myself, but after watching this guy play cards for a little while, I’m thinking about taking it up. He quickly became the most frequently-requested player at our establishment, racking up legendary losses. Now, I am kind of an old-school poker room manager, willing to do nearly anything to get an action player into the game. When Car Dealer Mike called last week and told me that he really wanted to play but his car was in the shop, I rushed a dealer down to pick him up and called a few of the regulars to help “stabilize the game” (don’t be afraid to tip your floorman, folks). Anyway, four hours and $4500 later, he “got up slow, talking low” from our 2-3 no limit game. One of our players who does business with him told me the rest of the Car Dealer Mike story. It turns out that his car was not “in the shop” at all, but in fact was sold that day to a private party about a block from where my dealer picked him up. The sale price? $4500, of course. Car Dealer Mike is now safely in rehab somewhere and we all wish him well. Lay off the hard drugs and by all means gamble responsibly, folks….

“Tales from the Floor” is written by the anonymous manager of a small Northern California Cardroom. The intent is to offer insight and anecdotes into the real world of poker from the perspective of an industry professional. Some of the stories are funny, others tragic, but all are real events occurring daily in small cardrooms across the country. The names and some of the less significant details have been changed to protect involved parties (not always the innocent). Any resemblance to your own life is cause for introspection, perhaps, but is unintentional.