“You chicken-shit assholes.”

As a Harrah’s security officer, I was fearless, as I figured if I got really fucked up, Harrah’s would have to pay my hospital bills.  With an outlook like that, I got into a number of beefs that might be considered to be “sketchy.”  I was usually the first to arrive at any “Double-X” that was broadcast on the PA system.  A Double-X meant drop pretty much anything you were doing, unless it involved money, and haul-ass to where the action was.  On one particular Double-X, I was the last to arrive at Pit 5, our top-dollar pit, to see eleven security officers, in a shoulder-to-shoulder half-circle around one of the tables.  I glanced at the table, and saw a 325 pound, 6’5″ Hell’s Angel, who had his head on his arms, on the table, and appeared to be sound asleep.  The 21 dealer was backed away from the table, and two pit bosses were standing there beside her, looking at the drunk, but harmless, biker. I was looking at the situation, and had figured out what was up, but asked the two 70 year old geezers, who could barely walk without a walker, whom I was standing back of, and between, “What’s up?”  “You see that guy over there?”  “Yeah.”  “He’s so drunk he’s just throwing his money away and making stupid bets.  They want him backed off and asked to leave, so he can’t come back later and accuse Harrah’s of cheating him.”  “Has anybody asked the man to leave?”  “Are you kidding?  Look at that guy; he’s a monster.  We’re waiting for the supervisor, with a gun, to get here.”  I said, as I forced my way between those two idiots, who both would be gone in a week, and almost knocking them both down, “Get the fuck out of my way.”

I walked up on the guy’s left side, leaned over, and said, softly, into his ear, “Excuse me, sir, but I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve had a lot to drink.  Maybe you should consider going back to your motel room and taking a little nap.  Take a shower, get something to eat.  Come back later, and we’ll be happy to see you.”  About 2 seconds later, he exploded up from his chair, where he stood about one foot in front of me.  I was quite startled, and thought, “Oh, shit, I’m going to have to fight this motherfucker,” as I slipped my right hand into my pocket, to try to get my brass knuckles into action before he reduced me to protoplasm.  I just about had my knuckles on my fist, which I could then pull out of my pocket, ready to punch someone, when he said to me, and this is a quote, “Can you direct me to the nearest exit?”  I GULPED, for the first and only time in my life, just like in a cartoon, and said, “Why, yes, sir, it’s right over there,” pointing with my right index finger, after I had dropped the knucks and pulled my empty hand out of my pocket.  He extended his right hand, and said, “Thank you.”  I said, “You’re welcome, and thank YOU, sir.”  We shook hands, and he turned around and staggered out of the casino.  I said, to his back. “Have a nice day, sir,” for only the 3rd time, in my LIFE, that I’ve ever said that to anyone.  (At least until I was around 65 years old, when I said it to a 4th person.)  [As nearly as I can remember, I’ve said that to only 5 people, and one of them was a “mistake.”]

I turned, and observed eleven worthless cocksuckers, who would not have helped me if a fight had started, standing there with their mouths open and weird looks on their faces, and said, in a loud voice, “You chickenshit assholes.”  One of them, a guy I’d never seen before and never saw again, walked up to me saying, “Wow, man, tell me what you told that guy, so I can use it in the future.”  I said, “I didn’t tell him anything, I just asked him to leave.”  I was PISSED, and walked away from those assholes.  I encountered our supervisor, with two more security officers, walking briskly towards where I’d just left.  I motioned for them to slow down and said, “I took care of it.”  He said, “OK.”

 

 

 

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2 thoughts on ““You chicken-shit assholes.”

  1. Ya, some of those guys are extremely large and not strange to fighting.
    It is my impression that they usually are only violent in their “work” and not someone to fear in general. Off cause, in your case I wouldnt be to sure of that.

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