My back hurts...

From making love too long and hard?
Nope (i wish)
From using a jack hammer all day breaking up driveways?
Nope (but fun)
From sleeping in an uncomfortable bed?
Nope (thank goddess)
My back hurts from dealing Black Jack believe it or not.
It will be fine, I have friends who don't mind laying hands on me where I hurt, and I've been stretching a lot.
Last night three of us went down to the Belmont street fair but couldn't plug in anywhere, we kept getting our bike/booth evicted by organizers, they were kind of crappy to us.
We went home empty handed and practiced Black Jack dealing.
The gig was far away in a mansion far up a mountain.
You wouldn't have recognized me in a Tux and bow tie (sans the jacket).
Skye, Josea and I looked like airline workers, all in uniforms and hanging around in a group while we waited for the guests to be shuttled up in a limo/bus.
The place didn't look as big as it is because all the rooms wrapped around like a maze, there was water piped in everywhere outside and you couldn't go anywhere without hearing a waterfall.
There was a room with a giant bank of windows overlooking a pool, sauna and all of Portland.
In the main hall was an Ice sculpture of James bond and one of his bitchez, I didn't know at the time that it was a James Bond themed party, I just thought the guy throwing the shindig was a government contractor fleecing Iraq or maybe a mob boss.
Why the hell else would someone have an ice sculpture of a guy pulling a pistol from the back of it's waistband.
My station was next to Skye Blue's we had really nice Blackjack tables made of wood and felt with the rules and card places printed on.
We used four decks that shoot out of a plex container.
I saw some of the guests and was really afraid, they looked like all the pricks I knew in High School (the ones who made it not worth going) all grown up, primped, wealthy and drunk.
I expected it to be frat night to see young super rich people, each one must own like dozens of yuppies.
They were really nice to me.
I'll say again...
They were really nice to me.
Why?
I suspect because my table was full of ladies all night, they thought I was funny and cute.
I thought they were funny and cute too but in another way.
They were screaming my name at one point "DINO DINO DINO BRING US LUCK BABY!
Oh B.T.W. I changed my name to Dino after Dean Martin the Las Vegas icon.
It was hard to keep track of all the bets all night, I'm so glad I hadn't done anything stupid like smoke pot, that would have ended my career before it started.
At some points I had up to 7 people around my table all placing multiple bets while yelling and screaming, I had to do the dealing, count chips out and be hansome doing it.
All the ladies had very thin, sheer, dresses on with inflated body parts jutting out, it was hard to concentrate on the biz at hand.

One nice lady hung out next to me, her guy was really busy and her friends were wasted, she shuffled the decks with me and kept track of who gets what, she had fun, I thought I knew her.
I didnt she just reminded me of Adrianne DeJerk, a woman who can be charming and super helpful in any situation with anyone.

It was a blast, I earned half my rent in one evening and the door is open for more of that since I did so well.
I got it from another dealer not to stand at attention all night like I was doing, when nobody was around I stood at attention and looked forward, that didn't last long but it took a toll.
Next gig I'm bringing a little shoe box or step up so at least one knee can bend.
All of us had aching backs so we may make it part of standard equipment.