It’s my first week working as a dealer at a casino, and I am placed in the back because during that first week, everyone makes mistakes constantly and it’s easier for the “floor” to watch us. But some players know this and willingly seek out the weaker dealers, because if your dealer makes a mistake and there’s a dispute, it usually goes in the player’s favor.

A player sits down at the blackjack table next to mine, and starts betting heavily, $400 to 500 per hand. At one point, he has a twelve and the dealer has a six, in which case anyone will tell you to stay and hope the dealer busts. He stays, the dealer has a two under, then pulls a six, and then a four, for a total of eighteen. The guy starts cheering and says, “Sixteen!”, trying to convince the dealer she has to pull another card.

It works; the dealer pulls a king, and then she looks down and counts twenty-eight. She immediately turns to the floor, who explains that the dealer had eighteen and the player has lost, and as the king was exposed, it has to be “burned” or discarded. The player begins screaming and cursing, but she takes the money and there’s nothing he can really do.

Now the player has a meltdown. He realizes that he can’t win but that in trying to confuse the dealer, that king would’ve been his next round. No guarantee it’d actually be a good hand, of course, but it has a better chance of being something good. He’s yelling and screaming, and the floor calls over the pit boss, who also has to call over the shift supervisor, who all explained that an exposed card has to be burned.

At this point, in front of everyone and on I don’t know how many cameras, the player screams that the money means nothing to him, throws his drink at the dealer, and then grabs about $3,000 of his chips and throws them against the ceiling. It’s raining chips everywhere. Security then grabs him. Some of the workers gather the chips they can and give them to him. He’s given his cash, escorted out, and then banned from the casino.

Sadly, though, he does not get a pair of shiny bracelets or a free car ride to the hotel with the orange jumpsuits.

The poor dealer held it together on the floor, but in the break room, she was sobbing. But since then, she has ended up becoming one of the better dealers.

I’m on my way back from my lunch when I notice a guest I checked into our hotel sitting at a slot machine with her child in her lap. I stop to tell her she cannot have a child on the gaming floor while she is gambling.

Guest: “That’s a bunch of BS! I asked specifically before we made our reservations and they said it was okay!”

Me: “Ma’am, no one would have told you that.”

Guest: “Then y’all need to get your act together, because I did not pay hundreds of dollars on an upgraded room to not be able to gamble! I will speak to your manager about this.”

I gave up at that point and went back to my desk to call security. I’m sure they told her to take the kid off the floor. I’m gonna find out from one of my security buddies, but man, you would think you wouldn’t want your kid to grow up with your same addictions!

Our check-in time is 4:00 pm; we try to get people checked in earlier IF their room is ready but never before 1:00 pm.

An elderly guy who is one of our high rollers — those who spend way too much money in the casino — requested a specific room and made the reservation earlier today after housekeeping had their morning meeting (where they discuss VIP rooms that HAVE to be done for early check-in) and he arrived at noon before I got here for the day. My coworker told him to check back later to see if we could check him in.

I have a line in front of me and I am in the middle of helping a guest by myself when he interrupts my current guest at 2:30 pm.

High Roller: “I just need a key made!”

Me: “You will have to wait in line just like everyone else, sir. That requires more than just handing you a key card.”

I am focused on the job at hand so I don’t see his reaction, but I do notice him go to the back of the line. He gets to me and, you guessed it, his room isn’t ready. He hasn’t checked in or even run his card for deposit. I am wondering why he thought he could just get a key and go.

He goes into a tangent about how the previous guy told him his room would be ready and how his host (the employees who manage high rollers) told him his room would be ready. Blah, blah, blah…

Me: “Sir, neither I nor the hosts can control how fast our housekeepers work—”

High Roller: “I know that—”

Me: “But I can request a push on your room. There is no guarantee that it will be ready so I suggest you come back around 4:00 pm, and by then, it should be ready.”

He left his bag with me and had issues in general about me touching it and wouldn’t even let me put it on the floor. I checked on his room periodically and it was ready at 3:30; he showed up not even five minutes later. After I told him his room was ready it was like he was a totally different person, smiling and laughing. I felt like I was being cat-fished.

I told his host that they need to make a rule that if hosted players don’t treat employees nicely then they get kicked out of the host list — meaning no more free rooms beyond what their rewards give them and no more extra stuff. But of course, they would never do that.

I am surprised at how I treated him. Usually, I let people walk all over me and it gets to me all day. I guess I finally stopped caring.

I work in a casino. The waitresses at this casino have to wear very thin, sexy clothes. They aren’t borderline legal, but it is noticed. One day, management calls all the waitresses to come in and explain that they are changing their outfits to something even sexier. Now, these new dresses are very, very borderline legal.

Staff: “No way. We’re not wearing that.”

So, Friday night came, and the staff worked their whole shift. Then, at the end of their shift, they were all called into a meeting and they were all fired. We had no waitresses for a couple of days.

Welp, the father of one of those ladies was a pretty big-time lawyer. He brought the casino to court and won. They won big. Good for them!

This story is part of our Best Of April 2021 roundup!

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The local casino is near both my mom’s work and my university, so some days, when our lunch breaks overlap, we and my stepdad meet for lunch there. I turned twenty-one about eight months ago, but I still look young for my age. This means that the staff looks a little extra hard at my ID when I enter the building. I sit down with my family at a table, and while we’re waiting for our food, we notice a security guard walking nearby.

Stepdad: “Is he looking at [My Name]?

Mom: “I think he is.”

I have a feeling this means he’s debating how old I am, but we brush it off for the time being. After passing us about three times, the guard comes over.

Security Guard: “Excuse me. Can I see your ID?”

Me: “Sure.”

I hand him my ID, and he stares at it for a long time.

Security Guard: “I’m sorry. The staff in the security room noticed you and thought you looked really young. I had to check.”

Me: “It’s okay. I understand.”

Security Guard: “You just look really young, and if I don’t check, I could get in trouble.”

Me: “That’s fine! It’s no big deal.”

Security Guard: “You just… look really young.”

My mom and stepdad love to joke about the time I got carded twice, but I’m more interested in knowing how young the guard thought I was!