My wise pal Paul Harris tells a story that illustrates a principle that I wish I'd learned earlier in life: There's very little point in arguing over some policy or rule with people who do not have the power to change that policy or rule. Paul's tale is about a poker player at a casino who was outraged by a casino policy…and, of course, argued about it with someone who had zero power to change it.
It's fine, and perhaps even a good idea, to register your displeasure with something. If enough people do, their collective disapproval might (might!) lead to the policy or rule being changed by those with the power to do so. And I've found that being reasonable and polite is way more effective than having the kind of tantrum that causes a cell phone video of you to be uploaded to YouTube with "Karen" in the title. Don't berate the employee who's just doing what their employer ordered them to…or in some cases, what the law tells them to do.
Paul's post reminded me of the story of the Superstar Performer who was once playing Blackjack in Las Vegas. Because he was so famous, a crowd gathered to watch him play…which in this case meant watching him lose hand after hand after hand. It was apparently entertaining to see the headliner forfeiting large chunks of the money he was making by performing in the casino's showroom. Losing streaks happen to even the best players but not only was he dropping thousands of bucks on each hand but — worse — he felt he was being humiliated. Lots of folks were watching which meant lots o' stories would get around.
The dealer, a young woman, was dealing the cards out of a six-deck shoe. Dealers are supposed to be like friendly robots. They make no decisions. They just deal the cards and enforce the rules they did not make. And in case you don't know what a "shoe" is in this context, they look like this — though the ones in casinos are rarely, if ever, transparent…
That was how it was done at every Blackjack table in this casino and most tables in the state of Nevada. Desperate for something to change his luck — like this would make any sort of difference — the Superstar Performer told the dealer to take the cards out of the shoe and deal the next hand by hand. She said something like, "I'm sorry, Mr. Superstar Performer. We're not allowed to do that."
That should have been the end of it but…well, there are people in this world who go through life with the attitude of "The rules don't apply to me." They like the idea of norms being waived for them and that when they yell, others will do anything to appease them. There's a technical term for such people and I believe it starts with "ass" and ends with "hole."
The Superstar Performer used one or two misogynistic terms and told the dealer, "I said 'Take the cards out of the shoe and deal them by hand.'" There was an "…or else" clearly implied in his tone.
As the story is told, the dealer began to cry…and why wouldn't she cry? She was in big trouble no matter what she did. If she did as ordered, she would be fired and might even lose her license to deal Blackjack; i.e., her entire livelihood. If she didn't…well, she knew the casino couldn't afford to piss off the Superstar Performer who packed their showroom every night with high-rolling, big-betting customers. She would be a small, acceptable sacrifice to placate him.
All dealers in a casino are supervised by suit-wearing staffers called Casino Hosts or sometimes, Pit Bosses. They have no power to change the rules either but they can give out comps and settle disputes between the player and the dealer when any arise. The one for this table stepped in and tried to pacify the Superstar Performer.
This mostly consisted of fawning over him and trying to divert S.P.'s rage away from the trembling dealer. A Casino Host once told me — while telling me this story, in fact — "What I usually try to do, what most of us would do, is get the angry customer to direct that anger at us instead of at the dealer. We're better equipped to deal with it." The Casino Host trying to placate the S.P. sent the dealer to the equivalent of the Dealers' Locker Room and called for a replacement. Once she was gone, he promised the Superstar Performer that she'd be fired for disobedience or rudeness or not properly kissing the butt of a Superstar Performer…or something.
The cards were not removed from the shoe and dealt by hand. That might even have endangered the casino's gaming license. But the Superstar Performer could walk away from the table acting like he'd won. And the fired dealer was not exactly fired. They just felt it would be bad if the S.P. ever saw her dealing Blackjack there again so they transferred her to a different casino owned by the same corporation.
That's that story and I should mention one more thing about it: I have no idea if it's true or not. It sounds true to me but so do a lot of things, like certain friends who are definitely going to pay back the money you owe me but never quite do. I heard the story about the Superstar Performer in my earlier days of hanging out with Vegas people. I met a lot of them backstage or in other informal settings.
As I said, a Casino Host told it to me. This was at the Imperial Palace. One of the longtime hosts at the Flamingo told it to me. A comedian who performed in the lounge at The Mint told it to me. An off-duty Casino Host at Caesars told it to me. The straight man in the Minsky's Burlesque Revue at the Hacienda told it to me. I probably heard it from a dozen Vegas-based people and while the identity of the Superstar Performer rotated between three men, all deceased, the details and reported assholishness did not.
Paul's story reminded me of it and so did scenes I witnessed a few years ago when I was spending a lot of time at hospitals because my mother, and later my lady friend, were patients. I was there to make sure my loved one was receiving proper care and I saw a lot of other people who were there to help out their loved ones.
There always seemed to be someone screaming at one or more nurses because of a hospital policy or even an actual law. They were screaming despite the fact that the target of their fury — and I don't mean to raise my voice here but I must put this in boldface — did not make the rule and did not have the power to change or ignore it.
Pardon me for yelling there but they were yelling then. Often, it was because their loved one was in pain and the nurse was not allowed to give them medication for that pain. I think I did my best for my mother and for Carolyn by understanding what the nurses could and could not do and occasionally saying to them — in a peaceful and understanding way, I hoped — something like, "I understand you're not allowed to do what she needs but can you point me towards the person who can solve this problem?"
And one time, I said to a guy who was screaming at a nurse, "If you're not going to stop yelling at her because you're waking up all these patients who need their sleep, how about not yelling at someone who's just doing her job because it isn't going to do any good?"
"It doesn't work" is an excellent reason to not do something. Yelling at the dealer in that club in Vegas did not stop the Superstar Performer from losing all that money in front of onlookers. It didn't even stop them all from telling stories, which are repeated to this day, about what a jerk he was.