Dealer Secrets: What We Really Think at the Table

So, you sit down at my table. You smile. You say, “Be gentle, it’s my first time.”
And I’m already mentally writing your Yelp review: “Fun energy, didn’t know how to hold cards. Would play with again. Probably shouldn’t.”

Look, I love my job. I get paid to flip cards, sass politely, and pretend I’m not internally combusting every time someone asks,

“Wait… what does an Ace count as again?” 😐

Today, I’m pulling back the velvet curtain and letting you in on some dealer truths — what we really think when you’re in the hot seat.

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1. “You’re splitting tens? For real?”
You had a perfect hand. A twenty.
And now you want two hands of what? Hopes and regrets?

If you’re trying to impress your date, just tip me well, I’ll flirt with you and call you lucky. Cheaper than losing $100 on a dare.

What I say: “Okay, splitting tens.”
What I mean: “Call security. This one’s unhinged.”

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2. “You’re giving me a ‘look’ for busting you? I’m not the cards, boo.”
I am not God.
I did not create your 16.
I did not invent gravity, humidity, or that 6 of Clubs.

What I say: “Tough hand. Let’s get the next one.”
What I mean: “The drama. The audacity. The Jenna Maroney of it all.”

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3. “You’re not tipping… but you’re drinking my oxygen?”
Honey.
You’ve been sipping free vodka-cranberries for two hours. I’ve kept this table alive through small talk and witchcraft.
And your chip stack looks like a Doritos bag after a party — empty and sad.

TIP YOUR DEALER! Even a dollar gets you a spiritual upgrade.

What I say: “You’re all set.”
What I mean: “Venmo me for emotional labor.”

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4. **“Is it my turn?” – Yes. It’s been your turn for a minute and a half.”
The table is quiet.
Six strangers are staring at you like you just farted in church.
The cocktail server is side-eyeing me. I’m side-eyeing you. The pit boss is side-eyeing both of us.

What I say: “Just need a decision when you’re ready.”
What I mean: “If you wait one more second I will astral project.”

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5. “I love when players think I control the cards.”
I shuffle. I deal.
That’s it. There’s no button I press under the table. No secret camera in my earring.
I’m not conspiring with the Illuminati to bust your 13.

What I say: “It’s random, I promise.”
What I mean: “This isn’t ‘Now You See Me,’ it’s ‘Now You Busted.’”

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6. “You hit 12 against a dealer 4 and want to know what you did wrong?”
You did exactly that. You hit 12 against a dealer 4.

We were rooting for you. We were all rooting for you.
Now everyone else at the table is spiritually slapping you with a basic strategy chart.

What I say: “Tough one.”
What I mean: “Matemáticas, mi amor. Use them.”

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7. “When you tip me, I do start rooting for you harder. It’s science.”
You think I’m neutral?
I’m human. I’m caffeinated. And I will manifest an Ace for you if you toss me a green chip and call me pretty.

What I say: “Thanks so much!”
What I mean: “You are now my favorite. May the cards bless you and your descendants.”

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Final Thoughts from the Felt 💭
Being a dealer is part therapist, part DJ, part magician, part verbal contortionist. We see the best and worst of humanity… usually within the same shoe.

But if you’re kind, tipping, and don’t split your tens, we’ll love you forever.

And if you do split your tens, just make sure you’re fabulous while doing it. We’ll still cheer as long as you’re tipping.

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