Things I Whisper to Myself While Dealing Cards So I Don’t Scream

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You ever deal for six hours straight and start questioning whether you’re even made of atoms anymore? No? Just me?

🌠🎴🌠🎴🌠🎴🌠🎴🌠🎴🌠🎴🌠🎴🌠🎴

This is what it’s like inside my head behind the table, after the fifth “can you smile?” and the third person in a row asks if it’s my first day because I’m not throwing the cards like I just got cast on Poker After Dark.

These are the whispered mantras, chaotic thoughts, and borderline spiritual chants I mutter in my mind to avoid flinging a deck of cards into the void and walking directly into the Bellagio fountains:

🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙

🪩 You are the table. Become the table. Do not feel the table.

🃏 This shuffle is your karma. Accept it. You were a warlord in a past life and now you’re here.

😑 This player just said “hit me” on a hard 17. Stay calm. Breathe through it.

🧘‍♂️ Pretend you’re a benevolent spirit inhabiting a human body named gabro. Float above it.

🗿 Do not react. You are a glamorous statue. A sexy, lifeless monument to labor.

🥲 Wow. They just tipped you 25 cents. Celebrate. You are not poor. You are humble.

🎭 Smile. Not like that. That smile looked unwell. Try again.

🌀 You’re not trapped. This is a paid theatrical residency with bad lighting and no script.

🫀 You love people. You love people. You love people. You… oof, that guy just burped directly into your aura.

⛓️ Be nice to the drunk lady. She is but a reflection of your potential future.

🤡 You can’t cry if your eyes are dry. That’s just science.

📿 Channel your ancestors. But not the petty ones.

👁️ This is your stage. This is your punishment. This is your calling. This is your shift.

🪞 You are not underpaid. You are… okay you are underpaid. Keep dealing.

🧂 This man is going to explain blackjack to you, the dealer. For the sixth time. Nod like he’s wise.

🌪️ You’re doing amazing. Even if you’re one shuffled breath away from joining a traveling cult.

🕊️ Remember: you chose this. And you can also choose violence. But don’t. Yet.