I Misspoke

6 April 2021

By Frank Scoblete

Most of the time when you go to the casinos you have fun. You have ups, you have downs, you have great meals, you see some fun shows, and in short, you experience the works. You go home and soon look forward to your next trip to the temple of Lady Luck.

I have been going to casinos for over three decades, some years I’ve gone over 130 days! Yes, I have seen just about all of it – including strange events. Last issue I shared with you the stories of yabberors, those players who enjoy a good conversation at the tables.

Now come with me to one of my strangest casino experiences, one that presented itself with two of the strangest yabberors I ever met:

I was playing blackjack at a full table and one woman (maybe in her mid-50s with dyed blonde hair and dark eyebrows) was talking – a lot – and I complimented her by saying, “You are quite a conversationalist.”

The dealer started to shuffle the decks.

“What do you mean?” she said to me.

“You have a way with words,” I said.

“You calling me a big mouth?”

“No, no,” I said.

“He’s calling me a big mouth,” she said to the rest of the table. “Do all of you think I am a big mouth? My husband says I am a big mouth; do you?”
Do you?”

The other players either ignored her or shook their heads no. One woman got up, took her chips, and scurried from the table.

She turned to the dealer. “Do you think I am a big mouth?”

The dealer’s face turned red. He was frozen in mid-shuffle.

“So you do, don’t you,” she said to the dealer. “This dealer thinks I have a big mouth!”

“No, no,” I said. “No one said you were a big mouth.”

“You did! And so did this man,” she pointed to the dealer. The dealer just stood there with a red face and then he started to shuffle the cards again.

“Is this the kind of dealers you have?” the woman shouted out to the floor person who was talking behind the dealer on one of the phones.

“Excuse me,” said the floor person.

“Your dealer said I have a big mouth.” The dealer’s face was now pulsating red. He stammered, “No.”

“And this man,” she pointed to me. “Both of them agree that I am a big mouth.”

“Neither of us called her a big mouth,” I said. “He didn’t say a word; he just shuffled.”

“Oh, ho, ho, ho,” she yelled. “Now you lie!” she pointed to me. “You are a liar.”

The cocktail waitress came over and placed a drink in front of the lady. “Your scotch ma’am,” she said. The woman ignored her and took a swig of her drink. This woman liked her scotch. The cocktail waitress walked away when she realized she would once again not get a tip from this woman.

“Well,” said the floor person. “Why don’t we change dealers?” He called over a dealer who was about to take some other dealer’s spot and he gave the dealer at our table a “break.” Two more players left the table without coloring up their chips.

“So what else are you going to do about this?” asked the woman. “That dealer should be fired for insulting a player.”

The table was now just me, the big mouth (excuse me I meant to write the woman), the new dealer and the floor person. Now the pit boss came over.

“So, can I help you?” asked the pit boss to the woman.

“Your floor man, your dealer and this jerk [meaning me] have insulted me by saying I am a big mouth.”

The floor person raised his eyes and the pit boss turned to the woman. “Maybe you should slow down on the drinking.”

“Oh, so now I am a big mouthed drunk!” she shouted.

I had to give it to the floor person and the pit boss; they kept their cool.

The woman chugged the rest of her scotch, stood up, collected her chips – her few chips as she was having a bad run of things – and she began to walk away. “I will never come to this casino ever again!”

The floor person, the pit boss and I watched her unsteadily walk to the cashier’s cage.

“What a big mouth,” I said.

Visit Frank Scoblete’s web site at www.frankscoblete.com. His books are available on smile.Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, kindle, e-books and at bookstores.