November 26, 2007
It still seems like a bad dream.
When I arrived at the casino tonight, I saw police cars and an ambulance beside the parking structure. I parked my car and went inside. One of the dealers told me that someone jumped from the third level of the parking garage. Damn!
I guess the third level is high enough to do the job, but low enough so that you don't have a lot of time to think about it on your way down. I seem to be cursed with this need to analyze everything.
Then as I'm walking to the pit area, another dealer tells me that someone just died.
"Yeah," I said. "He took a dive off the parking structure."
"No, I mean some guy just died over at table 36," she replied.
I think there must be some misunderstanding, so I walk over to table 36 and there's a guy on the floor getting CPR. But he's gone.
"Jesus," I'm thinking to myself. "We got some bad juju here tonight."
Song, a quiet little Chinese girl, was the dealer when this guy went down. She held her position at the tray until a relief dealer showed up. She didn't start crying until she got to the door.
Other than all that, it was a pretty quiet evening.
