Low Content: settle a prop bet between Player and Dealer (very long)

[BlameTheDealer]

Don't bitch about "TL;DR". I'm warning you right now that this entire thread is a waste of your time. If you don't want your time wasted, turn back now. If you want to play along, read on.

Before I lay out the facts of the case, I have a quick preface: I realize that those reading this forum have a tendency to expect dealers to do their jobs flawlessly, and any monkey business by the dealer is frowned upon, or downright scorned. Well, the dealer in this story, at times, does things that a dealer would normally not do, and also does NOT do some things that a dealer normally WOULD do. In the interest of impartiality, I STRONGLY URGE you to NOT let this prejudice your opinion of how to grade the bet. Resist the urge to say, "Any dealer who doesn't do his job strictly by the book deserves whatever he gets."


On with the show:

I'm sitting in a $4-8 LHE game, on Table 28. It's well past midnight. I work in this cardroom as a dealer, but it's my night off. I'm there on my own time, as a customer. Before you ask, yes, it's perfectly legal, and no, nobody cares if dealers aren't allowed to play in your local casino's jurisdiction.

Every 30 minutes, a new dealer sits down. In each case, the newly-arrived dealer had just left Table 27. Without exception, each of these dealers is unable to resist the urge to briefly vent to me about what a frustrating experience it was to deal the game on Table 27.

My game breaks. There are no other $4-8 games going, so I agree to take a $3-6 seat when one is offered. As luck would have it, I am sent to the dreaded Table 27.

I quickly see the source of the dealers' frustration: two different drunks, who won't act until prompted. Once prompted, they follow the same script: "Is it up to me? How much to me? Can I raise? How much can I raise?" This exchange happens on every street of every hand. Also, they kept trying to bet $6 on the flop, or $3 on the turn and river. Every single time. Again, not one drunk doing this, but two!

The dealer currently in the box is going completely out of his mind. By the time this dealer got pushed 15 minutes later, he had gotten three hands out. Repeat, three hands in fifteen minutes. And not because he was watching the tv or goofing around--he was worn out, trying in vain to keep the action moving.

At this point, I'm building castles with my chips. One of the drunks points at my chips, and says, "That's pretty cool." I snarl, "Well, I need something to do, you guys take five minutes to play every hand!" It's that bad.

Finally, the next dealer arrived to relieve the current dealer. While this next dealer was waiting for the current hand to finish, I said to him, "I make the over-under 10."

"Over-under on what?", asked the new dealer (henceforth called "Dealer").

"On how many hands you get out this down. The over-under is ten," I offered.

"I'll take the over," Dealer stated confidently. We then agreed on the amount of the bet: $5.

Another player overheard this conversation, and asked Dealer if he could also get a piece of this action. Dealer made a separate $5 bet with him, as well.

The first hand took five minutes to complete. The two under bettors were laughing uproariously as Dealer furiously hounded the two drunks to act on their hands when it was their turn. Dealer was intent on winning this bet. The floorman was attracted to the table by the laughter. I described the bet to the floorman. Floorman chuckled.

Hand Two went quickly. Hand Three was another long one, ending at the eleven-minute mark. The under was looking good, but it was going to be close.

An amazing thing happened on Hands 4-6: They didn't go to the river, they were decided by a bet on the flop, or on the turn. Suddenly, Hand Six is in the books at the fifteen-minute mark. Also, the drunks are tired of getting yelled at by the Dealer, so they're paying attention to the game, and not stalling anything like they had been previously. I'm not liking my chances so much at this point.

Before Dealer can begin to shuffle for Hand Seven, I ask for a set-up. Brilliant, in my opinion. Because this table has a shuffle machine, BOTH new decks will have to be spread, checked, and washed. This should kill a minute or two.

Dealer knows that I've never called for a set-up in my life, and also knows that the only reason I'm calling for one now is this $5 bet. So he fights fire with fire: he refuses my request to call for the set-up.

I call the floor over, and explain, "I requested a set-up, and this dealer won't call for one." The floor looked at the dealer. The dealer said simply, "We don't need a set-up," and quickly returned to prompting the action.

I countered, "Yes, we do need a set-up. Um, there's a bad card...or there will be in a minute!" More uproarious laughter around the table.

Since no other players seem eager for a set-up, and since the floorman doesn't want this $5 bet to interfere with the game, the floorman takes no action in regards to getting a set-up over to this table. He just looks at the Dealer one last time, then walks away, smiling. I took his demeanor to mean, "If the dealer doesn't call for a set-up, I'm not going to go get one. Screw this guy and his $5 bet, it's not going to interfere with my game." Note that he didn't SAY this, this was just my impression of his attitude. I could be wrong. Bottom line is, Floorman knew I wanted a set-up, and Floorman didn't go get one.

Hand Seven also goes quickly. I'm squawking that the Dealer is cheating me out of my $5 by not calling for a set-up (not bitterly squawking, it's all in fun).

Hand Eight is interesting, and plays just as big a part in your decision as the set-up controversy. Six limpers, including Drunk and me. All check the flop. On the turn, Drunk announces, "I'll bet $3." The Dealer announces "$6," just he has every time this Drunk has bet the wrong amount. Every time, the Drunk would correct his bet.

But this time, the Drunk stops the action and says, "I don't want to bet $6. Can I take back this bet?", and pulls back the $3. The Dealer tells him, "No, when you say 'I'll bet', you have to bet." Drunk grudgingly puts in the $6.

I tell the dealer, "You're wrong. He can take back the $3. He misunderstood the amount of the bet, and nobody has acted behind him yet."

Dealer stood his ground, firmly deciding that "I'll bet..." is a bet, no matter what words finish that sentence.

I disagree, and ask Dealer to call the floor.

Thinking this another stalling ploy, Dealer tells me to stop stalling the game. I assure Dealer that I'm not acting on this hand until the floorman gets there.

A quick glance around the room reveals something that might impact your decision: the floorman is nowhere to be found. Sometimes on graveyard, the floorman has to step out of the room for a minute or two, with nobody there to cover for him. If we have to wait for the floor, this will impact the bet dramatically.

Dealer isn't waiting for the floor. He's going to settle this right now, one way or the other. Before you criticize him for that, realize that he's only taking matters into his own hands because of this foolish bet. If any other player had asked for the floor, this Dealer would've gladly complied.

Dealer asks the Drunk, "Do you want to take this back?"

Drunk now sees how desperate I was for a free card, and announces enthusiastically, "Hell no, bet it!" I call.

I miss my straight draw. Turns out I was drawing dead--Drunk was full.

Drunk #2 got busted this hand, and bid the players good night. That was basically the end of the ballgame. With only one Drunk slowing things down, Dealer cruised to victory, getting out exactly 11 hands in his 30-minute down.

As Dealer got up to leave, I told him, "I ain't paying," citing the Dealer's refusal to call for a set-up, as well as his refusal to wait for the floorman to return, as cheating (in the context of the bet, not the poker game). Dealer snarled that he "knew" that I had no intention of paying when the bet was made.

I told Dealer, "I genuinely think I'm right. Let's find a neutral party to arbitrate. If he says I should pay, I'll pay."

Dealer just walked away, figuring he'll never get paid (the other player who bet Dealer had gotten busted a few hands earlier, and since he left without making any sort of arrangements to pay Dealer, it looks like Dealer got stiffed on that one, as well. The only thing we got out of this other bettor was nods of agreement whenever I cried foul during the bet.)

I went to the floorman, to seek his neutral opinion. Floorman listened to the facts, and ruled that the bet should be graded as a push.

You would think I would be happy with that ruling. I'm not. I want Dealer DQ'd for cheating. Instead of a push, I want to be declared the winner.

At this point, the floorman is tired of this nonsense, and suggests that maybe the fairest way to handle all this would be to fire both of us for gambling and making illegal bets with customers at work. I quickly dropped the matter...

...right into your lap. I say to you, "If you think I should pay him, I'll pay him."