The next month becomes one change after another, with my move to the surveillance room, Maggie is
given her two weeks’ notice. She has always had her own money, and the thought of losing that
independence, worries her.
“What am I supposed to do if you decide you want to be with somebody else?” she asked one day.
“Right now, my focus is to make things better for you and Adam.”, I replied.
“Even if we were to break up, I would not leave the two of you homeless. I’m not thinking that is going
to happen, but I’m happy now and I hope you are too.”
Maggie jumped into my lap on the sofa and the conversation dried up and died over time. We were busy
all the time. I babysat for her last two weeks at the Dunes, and Maggie felt comfortable leaving her
precious cargo with me, from then on.
Adam was a good baby to learn with. He found delight in everything, and he was full of energy, which
kept me young and on my toes. When I was able to calm him down, he repeated the habit of trying to
pull my hair out and rearrange my face, like it was made of Silly Putty. We would take long walks on the
strip, stopping for free popcorn and shrimp cocktails, from the smaller casinos who depended on street
traffic, because they lacked rooms for guests. I was juggling my gaming classes and intro to surveillance,
with becoming a homemaker and provider for two human beings.
The dealer classes were fun and instructional. The secret to being a good dealer is to memorize patterns
rather than numbers. All bets are paid off using the least amount of chips, and the floormen and pit
bosses were responsible for any shortages during the shift, making them more attentive to what went
on around them. My gambling experience in the military of using cards and chips, gave me the chip
handling and card dealing skills that made the job easier. I practiced pitching cards into a coffee can,
careful to hold my hands in the required position, even as you deal cards and pay or collect bets. life I
mentioned earlier. I would carry a stack of twenty chips, and played with them to the point where I
could drop a stack and be sure, without counting the chips, that the stack was correct. Everything in the
games flowed from that point. Roulette is a hard game to del if you don’t understand that bets are paid

off in stacks, and payoffs are always done from the largest value down. For example, if the payoff was
six-hundred and seventy -eight dollars, you give the winner six black chips, three red chips and three
dollar chips, usually light pastel colors that vary by casino. Dealers, and bosses in the pit area are trained
to look for form, rather than trying to pick up tells from the dealers or players. Each game has certain
rules that if not followed precisely, are red flags that something may be happening on a game. Dealers
must clap their hands and show open palms before handling chips, cards, dice, or the roulette ball, and
especially when they are relieved.
All these routines are common in the industry and will be found in the smallest dive to the largest
casino on the strip. The training was to allow me to become familiar with the mechanics of dealing, not
to be proficient enough to get a job as a dealer. It didn’t matter, if I was taking the class, I wanted to
graduate in the top ten percent of the students. The six weeks were over and I applied at several
casinos, to see if I could get hired. I received offers from all of them and it was fun dealing to a live table,
and not just fellow students.
Maggie enjoyed being a stay-at-home mom, but we both missed my cooking so I prepared 4-5 meals on
my off days and froze them for later. She told me about her hometown of Roswell, New Mexico and her
family. She was the fourth of seven children, between her mother, Ernestina Torrez and Pete Alvarez, a
local bar owner. Pete had provided for his out of -wedlock children on a limited basis because, in
addition to his natural kids, he had fathered nearly 50 offspring besides the Torrez brood. They had all
been in foster care at some point in their lives, some good and some not so good. Maggie, the twin girls,
Linda and Lenore, and their little brother Richard all ended up at the Newlin Ranch, a haven for many of
the kids who were mistreated in the foster care system. I asked her when I was going to meet them, and
she put her head down.
“They hate black people!”
, she said, unable to lift her head back up, because of the shame.
“There’s a few I’m not too fond of myself. “, I replied, trying to lighten the moment.
“You don’t understand.” She went on, “My brothers said they will kill you.”
I put my hand under her head and gently pulled it up, “I’m sure they were just having fun with you. They
don’t even know me. Anyway, let’s worry about that when the moment comes.”

We had gone out to eat with Nola’s family, and she and her husband had a thousand questions, to which
I replied, “no comment”, when it came to surveillance operations. The slots crew missed me, especially
my small band of thieves, and they would look at the cameras and wonder if I was watching. So far,
other than turning a camera to cover a roulette or craps table, no one ever intentionally looked at the
cameras covering the rows of slot machines throughout the casino. I was going to change that narrative.
I continued to study past slot cheats and their MO’s, modus operandi, or methods of operating. It was
fascinating reading and I learned what to look for as I panned the slot areas. There had been quite a
turnover since my move upstairs, including many that worked with us, Bob was leaving soon, and Nola
was looking at being a cocktail waitress,
“Do you think my chest is too small to wear the outfits the cocktail servers use?”, she asked over lunch
one day. I looked at Maggie to answer, only to find they were both staring at me.
“I think you would look great.”, causing Lola to smile and Maggie to frown.
‘You have a nice smile and good legs, and you have the right personality to be a server.”, I continued,
knowing I would hear about it later.
Nola used her hands to push her small breasts up and slightly above her tight spaghetti strap shirt.
“I’m saving up to give these guys a boost. If you hadn’t left, I probably would have the down payment.”,
she gave me a fake sneer and let her breasts settle back into position
I decided to play along.
“You do know, more than a mouthful is a waste.”, saying it without emotion.
They both stared at me with looks that could kill and simultaneously shouted, “Shut the fuck up!”, and
we all burst into laughter.
After graduating from the dealer’s class, with a score of 96/100, I learned the camera system quickly and
was eager to catch someone. George would always have a new scam or war story to greet me with at
the beginning of my shift, and I was like a sponge. He was down to earth, despite being a star in the
gaming world. Candace was just as nice, but I hesitated to ask her about her famous father. He had died
from cardiac arrest on April 12, 1981, shortly before I started at the Dunes. I wasn’t about to open that
wound, as much as I wanted to hear about her childhood. I was good with the reel-to-reel tape
machines, surprising my co-workers with my ability to change the tapes quickly at the end of our shift; I

had purchased a full quadrophonic stereo system, while in Okinawa, which included a four channel tape
machine. I also knew how to splice the tape if it broke, thanks to a two-year stint with the audio-visual
club in high school.
There were four operators assigned to the swing shift, with at least two on the cameras every night.
Kenny, the shift supervisor, never looked at the wall of screens except to check out a hot babe or check
the scores in whatever sport was playing. The poker room had a tv that was always tuned to ESPN or live
games, and our camera was trained on it 24/7. He and his wife, a cocktail waitress, played dollar poker
machines all night long, winning and losing racks of dollar coins at $500.00 a rack. Whether he was
watching sports or not, he always had a phone in his ear, only taking bathroom breaks and going to
lunch. Tom or Jim were the others assigned to the shift. Tom, the ex-security officer, was in law
enforcement before that. That was the early thinking in casinos, that the best people for the job needed
a background in law enforcement. I guess that stemmed from the days when the surveillance agents
pulled cheaters from their table and took them down to the cellar for questioning. Jim was
knowledgeable and took his job seriously, he also had issues at home that detracted from his
performance on the job. We only crossed paths a couple of times a week, and the issues never came up.
I watched the action on the floor and wondered if the room ever caught anyone cheating. I would
snatch up the phone when it rang, hoping the pit had a person of interest that needed watching. I
learned how to count cards with the best of them, only to find out that it is the person’s play and wild
betting swings, that led to their being identified. The pit called on any game that showed high action,
they were cover your ass moves, and usually a waste of time. Two weeks after my permanent
assignment to the room, I was watching a blackjack game and thought I observed a dealer pay a losing
hand,
. I jumped up like I was shot out of a cannon and ran to the recorder taping the game. I ran it back two
times , and verified what I thought I saw was right. “SHE PAID A LOSING HAND!”, I screamed.
Curiously, no one moved or said anything, Tom and Kenny just sat there like nothing had happened.
“AREN’T WE GOING TO DO ANYTHING!.”, I yelled again, beginning to panic.
Kenny picked up the sports section of the local paper and said quietly,
“First, put the game on another machine, mark the date and time, and remove the tape, using one of
the spares.” Then he called downstairs.

” We just recorded a bad payout from the girl on table 12 and we will continue to watch her and the
player for a minute.”
Turning to me he continued,
“You need to get a facial of the dealer and the player and then record and watch her until they switch
out. It was only a $25 bet, I doubt if she wants to give up her cushy job for that.”, and went back to
reading his paper. I followed the poor dealer the rest of the night, determined to catch her doing
something wrong. The pit boss had asked around about the player and found he was a local, who had
never given them any cause for concern. The dealer was solid too, going on five years and never a
problem. I was proud of my catch, even though it was deemed an honest mistake. I told Maggie all
about it that night and received the recognition I was seeking. I was her hero and she sat patiently
listening to the story again. Then she had news for me, her mother and brother were coming. The
brother was going to drop her off and return, she was going to stay a week, or longer if her money held
out. I told her that was great news but the come down from the adrenaline rush, left me tired and I fell
asleep soon after. The next day I get to work and everyone is a little subdued and quiet. There is no
mention of last night, just dry hellos. Even Ms. Brown was not her usual self, just nodding when she saw
me get off the elevator. After the change of shift, George comes in with his hands behind his back. As
the day and swing shift gather around he brings his hands to the front, revealing a small statue of an
eyeball on a pedestal, in one hand, and a rolled-up parchment in the other. The paper says,” Congrats,
First Blood” and is signed by the whole department. I’m now an official member of the new “Rat Pack”.
I shake hands all around and soak in the moment. I have gained entrance into the halls of power, the
center of all things Dunes, and there is more, Tomorrow, I have a private meeting with the King and
Queen, in their chambers, Morris and Lillian Shenker want to meet me. Wow!

More to come…………

Barron Broomfield