The sugar mommies
Primm developed three casino properties on the Nevada/California state line. The first of these was Whisky Pete's. Then across the interstate, he built the Primadonna. The Primadonna had a kind of 18th-century carnival theme with a big Ferris wheel.
Whisky Pete's was western themed and featured the Bonnie and Clyde death car, complete with bullet holes. There was an overhead tram from Whisky Pete's to the Primadonna; over the interstate. Or you could drive or walk under the freeway.
Buffalo Bills came online about three months after I started working at Whisky Pete's.
Buffalo Bills also had a western theme. The tree bar had a huge gnarly oak tree and a talking buzzard. There was a canal with little log boats running through the back of the casino. It featured the tallest roller coaster in North America at the time.
Kitchen workers and porters and low paid service workers could live out there in trailers. State line, the city of Primm was about 42 miles from Vegas. Driving west, you would hit Jean and the county prison, the Gold Strike, and Nevada Landing and after that nothing, until you reached state line. I could make the trip back in about 35 minutes in the morning, early morning, like 2:30 am, because there was no traffic. I could boot it.
Just before my working at state line there were some notorious murders out there. A young man was with his friend. He took a little black girl into the men’s room at the Primadonna. He took her into a stall and raped and strangled her. The case was moving through the courts when I was working there. This guy, he was about 22, he said it was because of meth. He got life without and his friend, who undoubtedly knew, he got nothing.
The other murder happened at Whisky Pete's. A young boy disappeared from the arcade. This was in the winter. They found his body a month later under a trailer. The video surveillance showed the boy leaving with a man who was subsequently tracked to San Diego. The man went to trial and was acquitted. He later turned around and sued for wrongful prosecution and won a settlement.
I was dealing dice at Whisky Pete's. It was just middle-level action. 50 bucks a shift and about a 65 dollar cut on tokes which is decent money at that level of action in Las Vegas.
I showed up one evening, and there's a fat guy sitting box on my game. He's wearing dealer’s clothes -- the uniform shirt. A yellow and purple concoction with shoulder yokes a kind of western deal.
This guy knows me. I know him. He is very friendly. He says they promised him a permanent boxman job when Bills opens. I was a little bit curious as to why this guy was so friendly. The last time I saw him was when I was breaking in at the Golden Gate downtown when I told him to fuck off and clapped out and walked off my game. I had gotten another job across the street, and he was riding me on account of I couldn't deal, but whatever. Let's let our Saigon's be bygones. In the gaming industry, I was running into guys I worked with again and again. It is a transient industry.
Another shift and I was on third base. I had no players. I'm looking over at a blackjack dealer that they scrounged up because we are short of craps dealers. He's sizing into six checks on a payout. I tell him you got to prove that. The camera can't see depth, it "sees" flat. So anything over five, five chips, you got to break it down and prove it.
The floorman jumps in my face, and he's yelling, "Don't you ever tell another dealer how to deal!" Well, I get lippy with him as well. What the fuck? On my break, I get to see the shift boss, Lenny, in the blackjack pit. Lenny is about 6'5". I was like about 5'5" at the time.
He's chewing me out. I've got my head down. But I notice that when I look up, I am looking directly at his dick which made me a little uncomfortable. Well, it -- I had to fight to keep a straight face. He's winding up..."If you don't like it here, you can just take your act down the road!" (Suck my dick boy!). I didn't want to lose the job so "Yowsa boss!"
Later on, after I transferred to Buffalo Bills, I'm working with Paul, a blackjack dealer that they send over to the dice pit when we are stretched tight. Pauli is not bad for a guy who isn't a dice dealer. He dealt cards for 12 years or more and he worked four times at Binion’s, and he was friends with Mrs. Binion.
The thing about Paul was that he looked like a caricature of a Jew. Pear shaped Semitic features and so on. He lived with his mom in a townhouse in West Vegas that he was helping her buy. I sometimes gave Paul a ride home. Naturally, he finds out I'm a Jew.
I don't know if Jews run the world because being the kind of Jew I am, I'm out of the loop. But one thing, and this is no lie, everywhere I ever worked we all know who we are. Who's a Jew? I don't know how. Anyhow, it turns out Lenny is a Jew, and Paul offered to talk to him and after that when I saw Lenny he was really friendly (Shalom!).
When Buffalo Bills opened, I applied for the transfer, but I didn't get it for a couple of weeks. I replaced some guy that got fired; some crackhead that wanted to live at my place for free. No thanks.
Buffalo Bills opened feeble; lousy money, so I was lucky I didn't get the initial transfer.
I got strung out on meth shortly after moving over there. There was a lot of shit over there. The swing shift bartender at the tree bar was dealing meth to the cocktail waitresses. He got busted on surveillance and forced to resign; quit, or we prosecute. Some of the cocktail waitresses looked like the maid on the Jetsons, like they had wheels, like robot chicks.
I would generally be awake for six days, and I would crash on my weekends. My general MO was to get off work and go to a pornographic bookstore (many to choose from) and get a new tape and then go home and spend the next 12 hours abusing myself.
When I crashed on the weekends (Tuesday, Wednesday), I would eat high fat foods like Jimmy Dean's Biscuits and Sausage, Creamsicles by the dozen, Philly cheese steaks with bacon. I still got bad eating habits, and my sleep patterns are still messed up.
I finally quit meth, cold turkey. I went home to visit my parents in Canada, and I used it as an intervention.
So I was clean, and I'm giving Paul a ride home. I've got about 400 dollars worth of smut in a black plastic garbage bag. I stop by my place: "Here give me 20 bucks for this."
I had to get that stuff out of my house. The fun part was teasing this guy, "Hey, Pauli, which one was it last night?"
I would mimic the performers (English accent) "It's always such a pleasure fucking your ass." It was dubbed into English. The film was made in Denmark.
His favorite was the Sugar Mommies, which I had to admit.
I was watching Paul carefully to see if his spine was bending; going soft. Maybe semen crusted on his pants. He's drooling. Hairy palms; knuckles are dragging on the ground.
Sometimes they would send me over to blackjack. I could deal out of a shoe. I had no pitch. When I shuffled, I would clump the cards a half inch, but I didn't care. You couldn't cheat my game, and I was cold. I never dumped.
A lady would sit down at my table "I want a blackjack, I want a blackjack!" "I want a pony! I want a pony!"
If a player dropped a hundred dollar bill on the layout, I would snatch it up quickly and put it on the square where you make your bet and turn my head to the floorman, "Money plays up to the limit!" And then I would watch these people have a coronary. "NO, NO! Just change!"
I had a captive audience there, and I liked to have fun. I loved to tease people. If someone got a blackjack and I had a nineteen I would pause and look at their cards and look at mine and look at them and then I would rap my knuckles on the layout "Push!"
I had a deadpan face so.
One time I got a five card 21. I was so proud of myself. This Chinese kid had blackjack.
He wants to get paid. I tell him it's a push. "Yeah, but weren't you supposed to stop on a hard seventeen?" I look. Think it over. Call the floorman over.
The floorman has to back up the whole hand. The kid gets paid and guess what he does then? He goes to another table.
They would send me around to the different properties when they were stuck for a dealer. I was the second strongest dice dealer out there. Dokey was number one. I liked Brett. He was a friend. We hung out together. He's the guy that got me strung out on meth; gas money or a line. Which do you think I chose?u��+��`d