Floor, Table 14

"Floor, Table 14!" came the cry from the far side of the room. We raced the floorman over to the table to see what was happening. When we approached, Rachel the dealer was explaining the situation, dealing with the small blind in particular.

"He was in the small blind, and he threw in an oversized chip without saying, 'Raise'".

"Then it is just a call," ruled the floor. The big blind was a bit ticked off, and he adamantly disagreed with the ruling. Rachel repeated her story verbatim, and the floorman repeated his ruling as well, and that was finally that. Flop time. It came {6-Hearts}

, and the small blind led out with a bet of 1,000, which was good enough to win the pot right there.

Just as we'd managed to pick our way through the crowd back to the far corner of the room, we heard, "Floor, Table 14!" again. Sigh. Hustling back over, we were only imagining what the argument was this time. Rachel had the answer.

"The players are wondering if it's possible to close the door. First it was the fire, and now there's cigar smoke wafting in. Is it possible to shut the door?"

The floor went to investigate, but it looks like the door will remain open for ease of access and safety measures. The wood-burning fireplace in the lobby is indeed going great guns, and coupled with the gentlemen puffing stogies in the lounge chairs, there is some noticable smokiness near the door where Table 14 lives.

It's like poker in the 1980's in here, a thick cloud of smoke starting to accumulate above the players' heads.