My first night, I was nervous and apprehensive, told to report to the "post" .... finally someone pointed me in the right direction, said something stupid to the gentleman in the white on white shirt, a gorgeous pair of cuff links, a spotless white necktie, and a watch showing under those starched french cuffs that exposed a circular face ringed with diamonds, very classy. Mark, as it turned out, told me to go shill on number 3. My dumb stare was greeted with a gesture that pointed me in the right direction.
I sheepishly approached the ten foot table, a man on one end, a woman on the other, the woman knew of my innocence reached down into a tube of silver dollars and handed them to me. She knew without looking that she had handed me 20 of them. The table was void of customers at that time, so she told me, "put one there and throw the dice." I did, and that was my introduction in to a world I knew nothing about, but was intrigued by the prospect of learning about.
After an hour or so at the table, "shilling," I was told to take a 30 minute break and report back to Mark. I will never forget my entrance in to the coffee shop that morning, I was "one of them" an employee of a casino, soon, to be a ..... dealer ..... the pride I must have shown walking in, I owned the place, I belonged here. I remember well what I had, a Nevada Club Special .... an 8-inch French Roll, sliced lengthwise in half, piled high with prime rib, the top half placed back on, on to a plate, and covered with a rich broth. How much better could it get.
Mark directed me back to a table, I was escorted "behind" the table, where the dealers stand, I had stepped into ... a mystic realm .... a "stick" was handed to me, "Hi, I'm Reno Sweeney," call the dice .... the rest of the night went by fast, but a blurry fast. I remember entering in to the sunlight next morning, at 11, a beautiful day, someone had given me a "green apron," during my shift, a dealers apron. I carried it proudly so all could see as I made my way up Virginia Street to my car.
