Back in the day, British casinos were rather elegant, very James Bondish. The decor at the Dragonara, was styled with smoked glass, ornate mirrors, and rich, deep red drapes. The male dealers wore a simple shirt and bowtie, with black pants, while the girls wore long backless dresses adorned with rhinestones, and silver sandals. In our casino, they were sticklers for our appearance being as chic as possible. Hair had to be done, makeup and nail polish were mandatory. They even checked our toes!
At night, players were asked to wear a shirt with a collar, and a jacket. A tie was necessary for the restaurant. Through the day, the dress code was a little more relaxed, so that was when most of the classless crowd would come in.
The Yorkshire coal miners had been on strike for over a month. A small group of them, instead of joining their brothers on the picket line, had chosen to hang out in the casino, on a daily basis. One particular miner, was especially uncouth. He frequently dropped the F bomb, and made crude comments to the girls, normally pertaining to their cleavage. He had been warned numerous times about his behavior, but seeing as he hadn’t actually said anything offensive to another guest, just to the staff, he had been allowed to stay.
“If that arsehole says anything to me today,” I told my supervisor Sylvia, “I’m going to say something back!”
“Well make sure you drop a chip first.” she cautioned me. If she was busy bending down, to pick up a chip, she couldn’t hear anything I might say to a customer. Sylvia always had my back, and she was running the pit today!
“Oh I will!” I assured her.
Sure enough, in they came, four of them. Two of them wandered over to the Punto Banco table, a third opted for roulette, while the arsehole chose blackjack, as usual. I think he really just liked to be offensive, and Blackjack afforded him the close proximity necessary for his snide, and vile remarks. He sat down at Michelle’s game. Sylvia instructed one of the male dealers to tap her out. He never said anything to the guys. After a few hands, he rose from the table and headed over to my game. I had no other players, I was ready for him. Sylvia dutifully took her place beside me.
“Drop a chip.” she reminded me.
He smiled at me as he sat down. He was quite a good looking guy, just totally lacking in social skills. He truly believed he could say anything he wanted to women, especially the ones in the casinos. At that time, most people believed that women who worked in casinos were loose floozies, who slept with all the players for money. Contrary to popular belief, socializing with the patrons, was totally prohibited. We would get fired for dating a customer.
“You look nice today Shirley.” he told me, about three hands in.
“Thank you.” I smiled sweetly. I was waiting for it. Sylvia stiffened at the side of me, she was waiting too.
“That dress makes your tits look great!”
“I beg your pardon?” I stared at him in disgust.
“I could really f**k you!” he told me leaning in to the game.
“And if I had a brick in my hand, I’d really f**k you too, you piece o’ shit!” I heard Sylvia cough at the side of me. Panicking, she threw her pen over her shoulder, then frantically swooped down to pick it up.
“What did you just say?” he knew that we were not supposed to answer back to players.
“You heard me!” I glared back at him.
“Did you hear what she said to me?” he yelled at Sylvia.
“No sir! I was picking up my pen.” She looked at me in disbelief. “But I did hear what you said to her. I think you need to leave the table.”
To cut a long story short, after some back and forth bantering between the arsehole and Sylvia, he did in fact, leave the table.
“What happened to dropping a chip?” Sylvia gasped. “You were supposed to drop a chip!”
“I’m sorry. It just came out!” I smiled sheepishly.
“Next time drop a bloody chip!” She knew there would definitely be a next time.