DEALER’S PERSPECTIVE
Why I don’t feel guilty taking your money at the blackjack table
By Al O’Grady
My wife and I were at a holiday house party, and as is often the case when meeting new people, the conversation inevitably turned to, “So, what do you do for a living?” When I tell people I’m a blackjack dealer, it always gets a reaction. Heads turn, eyebrows raise, and a flood of questions typically follows: “What tips do you have?” “Is the game rigged?” “How can I make money playing blackjack?” But this time, someone asked me a different question: “Do you feel guilty taking people’s money?”
That one caught me off guard. I paused for a moment and then came to an unequivocal answer: no, I do not. It’s not because I’m ruthless, uncaring or unsympathetic. It’s because I don’t take anyone’s money; they give it to me. There’s a significant difference.
I’m a firm believer in personal responsibility and accountability. As a functional adult of sound mind, you have the freedom to make your own choices—so long as you’re not harming others or infringing on anyone’s rights. Life is about choices, and how you spend your money is one of them. Why should I feel guilty about choices you freely make?
Some argue that the casino is “trying to take my money” and that I should feel bad for being part of that system. Really? Did the casino force you to walk through its doors? Did I, as a dealer, compel you to sit at my table? Was someone holding a gun to your head, making you pull out your wallet? Every step you took—entering the casino, sitting at the table, placing your bet—was your decision. Why would I feel guilty about that?
Now, let’s look at some specific scenarios. Imagine a player who doesn’t know the first thing about blackjack, not even that basic strategy exists. If I, as the dealer, try to help by offering advice during the game and they ignore it, should I feel guilty about their ignorance? Absolutely not.
Then there’s the player who knows basic strategy but chooses to deviate from it. Maybe they refuse to double down on 11 against a dealer’s 10, never hit a hard 16 or selectively split 8s even though they should do so every time. Sure, they might get lucky in the short term, but probability eventually catches up with them. Should I feel bad when they lose? Not at all. Are you starting to see the theme here?
From time to time, I’ll deal to a high roller. These players bring large sums of money to the table and are 98% proficient in basic strategy. Sometimes they win big, and sometimes they lose big. What really irks dealers, though, is when a high roller wins big and doesn’t leave a tip.
A significant portion of a dealer’s income comes from tips. If you lose, no one expects you to tip—but if you win big and we did a good job, some show of gratitude is appreciated. When that gratitude doesn’t come, don’t expect sympathy the next time you lose big.
That said, there are players I respect and even admire. My kind of player is someone who plays responsibly, using money they can afford to lose. They know basic strategy and, if unsure, ask for advice and follow it. Maybe they win; maybe they lose. Either way, they set limits and have the discipline to walk away when they hit them. If they win $500, they might take their spouse to a nice dinner or their kid to a ballgame. If they lose, they accept it graciously and come back in a couple of weeks. For players like this, there’s no guilt, no remorse—it’s just part of the game’s natural fluctuations.
The only time I feel even a twinge of guilt is when I encounter someone with a gambling addiction. Unfortunately, that’s beyond my control. A person must first acknowledge they have a problem before they can begin to address it. If someone is gambling away their paycheck to the detriment of their family, I feel empathy—especially for their loved ones—but not guilt. I can hand them a brochure about problem gambling, but that’s about the extent of what I can do. Their struggles are beyond my control, and I refuse to feel guilty for something I cannot change.
At the end of the day, I’m a casino employee. I turn cards, move chips and count to 21. The “work” of my job is standing for eight hours, dealing with the physical toll, battling boredom, and occasionally putting up with unpleasant players. Nowhere in my job description does it say I need to feel guilty for other people’s actions. Every casino game has a house edge, and the odds favor the house in the long run. If you beat the odds and win, congratulations. If you don’t, that’s part of the game.
Good luck at the tables—and don’t forget to tip your dealer. ´
Al O’Grady has been a blackjack dealer for over seven years. He is a freelance writer with an economics degree and is currently pursuing a degree in mathematics.
