Larry Smith...This One is for YOU! (Part 2)

On Dec. 29, 2009, I posted the first part of my initiation into the world of blackjack dealing. I'd just been janked off a live BJ table during an audition after my fake nail flew off and hit a customer between the eyes. Mortified, I steeled myself to what horrors awaited me on the roulette table...

What are You Doing with that Roulette Wheel?: "All right," the pit boss groaned, eying me like I was something from another planet. "Since you said you can deal roulette, let's see if you can do better on the wheel." I could tell he wasn't any too pleased and I'd better get it right this time or else. I really tried to beg off, but he wasn't listening.

Even less confident (if that's possible) than dealing blackjack, I tapped out the roulette dealer. By this time word must have spread around the table games area, because I noticed a small throng gathering around the roulette wheel, anticipating what would happen next.

Smiling weakly, I said, "Place your bets ladies and gentlemen," to the solitary guy with a stack of chips in front of him. I spun the wheel. Miraculously, it stayed in the roulette tray as it travelled around. So far so good, I thought. "No more bets," I said in a clear voice, waving my hand over the layout. Great. I made the simple payout and repeated the procedure. Only this time I spun the wheel in the opposite direction, alternating every hand, just like my British roulette teachers had taught me at the Ohkay Casino.

The pit boss swooped to my side behind the table like a vulture going in for the kill. "What the f___ do you think your doing with that roulette wheel?" He spat the words into my ear. I gulped and told him that's what my British teachers taught me to do. He said, not too kindly, "I don't give a f___ if you learned to deal from Martians. In this casino you only spin it one way." He stormed to the other side of the table, arms folded, to watch my next move.

Avoiding direct eye contact, I spun the ball the direction I was told...except, in my nervous state, it flew out of the tray and (I'm not making this up) hit him squarly in the crotch.

So much for my impromptu audition.

Should I throw in my dealers' apron? (To be continued.)