"Deal"ing with reality

Just a lil slice of life from a casino dealer's perspective.

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Location: Edgerton, Missouri, United States

I grew up in a small town, and live in small town now. Like to think I have more than a small town mind, but I doubt it.

Sunday, November 25, 2007


There are some nights it doesn't pay to get outta bed. Especially when you are paying to spend more time outta bed than in it. One night I saw a great example of this.

Early in the evening a woman came down and asked for a spare iron since the one in her room wasn't working right. It seems she had a minor case of insomnia and wanted to get some chores done while everyone else slept.

A couple of hours later she came back down for a little chat. After we talked for a little bit I noticed she looked a little tired as she headed back to her room on the 2nd floor. Or at least in that general direction. A few minutes after she vanished up the stairs I got a call from a room at the opposite end of the hotel saying that someone was trying to get into their room and had woken them up. Upon investigating I saw the same woman I had just been talking to attempting to enter the wrong room and unable to figure out why her key wouldn't work. I kindly informed her that she was in the wrong place and escorted her to her room where her key worked just fine.

In the middle of my usual mountain of paperwork the front desk bell rings and I look up at the camera monitor to see whom I need to assist in the wee hours of the morning. It's my friendly lady again, needing change for the vending machine this time.

I give her the quarters, wait a few seconds, then follow her up the stairs to make sure she gets along OK. As I round the corner at the top of the stairs I see her trying to feed her coins in the slot.....the key slot of a doorknob. Doing my best not to guffaw in her face I politely point her to the vending machine, then back to her room (again) with her snacks. As she opens her door I gently suggest she lay down and try to get some sleep.

I didn't hear from her again the rest of my shift. The people that worked the next day told me she didn't remember our little adventures together.

Some nights I wonder if I work in a hotel or a madhouse. Then I wonder if there is a difference.


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