So long, Sahara!

Two nights ago, I was playing in the 7pm Sahara tournament. A lady at the table announced that she was there to write a poker room review for LIPS and/or some online site. The men at the table didn’t really care; they were just glad she was there and brought the girls out for the night too. Women at the table didn’t seem to care, we were just wondering how long it would take before the casino AC is going to get the better of those two babies. (Was around 15 minutes before she brought out the sweater, much to the disappointment of the googled-eyed guy sitting next to her).

Anyway – the lack of playable hands gave me time to judge the room myself, and after evaluating all the things important to me, as a player, I realized that I don’t like the Sahara poker room at all. I can’t wait to read the formal review – now I wish I listened more carefully in order to know where to find it – to see what her view on the room was and how it compares to mine.

By my standards, the room has only two things going for it – free sandwiches and a decent tournament structure. First I thought it was just me, so I’ve put it to the test. I went to play there during various stages of emotional state – I went when I was happy without a care in the world, I went when I was mad at my husband, went before, during and after PMS, went when I was tired and grumpy, and even combinations of all the above. The results were the same. Sandwiches and tourneys were good, but not good enough to make up for all the things I didn’t like about the room.

The room itself – uncomfortable chairs and too many tables cramped in the space, getting out of your seat requires a two week notice to everyone around you and meetings have to be held to determine the most sufficient way to get out of your chair without knocking over chips and drinks or bumping into players behind you. The only thing you can be sure of is that you wouldn’t be bumping into, is the cocktail waitress, because she is rarely there.

This brings me to the second point – the cocktail service. First, I have nothing against the casino hiring older (and I mean older) ladies as cocktail waitresses, but please don’t make them dress the part. There’s nothing worse than seeing a 40+ year-old cocktail waitress having to flaunt all her saggy parts wearing a dress meant for somebody much younger. Please don’t misunderstand, once again, I have nothing against those saggy thingies, I have a couple myself, but I believe they should be kept out of public and safely tucked away in some of Victoria’s Secrets.
Also, hire MORE, please – you’re lucky if you get more than two drinks for the duration of the tournament. I walked over to my husband’s table – actually I maneuvered my way there, it wasn’t as easy as just walking over – and first thing he said was “I ordered my drink when the tournament started, by the time I got it, the blinds have gone up”. Now, he doesn’t even drink alcohol; imagine how frustrated the beer drinkers get!

Now the part that annoys me the most. First, let me say that I’ve met three of the Sahara dealers when we were in Mesquite, and I really like them, and I am happy to say I exclude them from the following comments.
• dealers chewing gum while dealing
• female dealers wearing so much make-up I almost thought I missed a couple of months and Halloween has arrived
• female dealers flirting blatantly and heavily with apparently regular male customers
• all three points above combined
• sitting at the table seconds before the tournament to start, the dealer’s cell phone rang. Imagine that. THEN SHE GOT UP, TOOK A COUPLE OF STEPS AWAY FROM THE TABLE AND ANSWERED THE PHONE. How nice of her to have the courtesy to not pick up the phone at the table. She came back, one of the players asked – ‘Did you just get out of the box to answer your phone?’. Her reply ‘Yes, but it wasn’t important, just my daughter’. While his jaw(and mine)dropped to floor, her phone rang again…..rinse and repeat
• dealers being rude to each other in front of customers
• dealers being rude to players
• dealers discussing their private lives with players (in great detail)
• dealers discussing player’s hands and plays when the hand is over (guess we should be happy they waited until the hand is over)

Next thing, the location of the room is such that the difference in temperature between the front and the back of the room differs probably around 10 degrees. In one area you’re freezing, in the other area you’re sweating like a pig. Not really the poker room’s fault, but it does add to the negative image I have.

Adding up all those factors, I decided that I won’t make an effort to play at Sahara anymore. Granted, they probably won’t miss their portion of my meager $62 a week tourney entry, but truth be told – I won’t be missing them either.