Weekend Writing Warriors: Pigeons (Toke your Dealer)

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I had amazing  time at the Midwest Writing Workshop, which I’ll be describing tomorrow, because I’ll be driving home all day, today.

Which means I’ll be late doing the rounds of both Snippet Sunday and wewriwa, but I will  get there, I promise.

Meanwhile, McRae, semi-reformed grifter extraordinare, has entered the casino looking for Rhonda Herr, as Rhonda may be related to McRae’s boss, who is in desperate need of a bone marrow transplant.  McRae is hoping that Blaine’s family can provide a donor match, but Blaine, an ex-con himself, hasn’t been forthcoming with any information about his origins . . .

It might be helpful to know—since I skipped over the explanation a few chapters back—that everyone on the team is communicating through comms packs tiny earpieces.  McRae is the POV character, so anything said to him over the comms in this scene are in italics.  ‘Cause that’s how I roll.

English: Poker Chips

“Miss Herr is tending the center black jack station,” Konrad said, with an odd echo. McRae opened his mouth to ask for a comms check before realizing that the other man was two feet away, sitting at one of the Elysian quarter slots. “She’s been pocketing her tips for the last forty minutes.”

“Dumb,” Cassie said.

“And yet you said you’d try it.”

“That’s because I’m good. If you can see her doing it, she’s not.”

“No, she’s not,” McRae said, watching the thin woman in the lightning bolt vest with some interest.


33 thoughts on “Weekend Writing Warriors: Pigeons (Toke your Dealer)

    • Thank you! If there’s one thing all my characters can do, it’s talk. Write what you know, I guess. 😉

      I had interesting travels today—my SIL’s GPS isn’t talking to me any more . . .

  1. These snippets are like little vignettes of home. (And I can’t wait to hear all about the workshop, and Sherry, and EVERYTHING. Drive carefully, chickadee.)

    • Then I got it right?

      The workshop was great and Sherry remains awesome.

      I drove as carefully as someone whose bloodstream was 86% caffeine could manage, Averil! 😀

    • Nope, all tips go in the toke boxes affixed to the tables, to be distributed with paychecks—generally speaking, of course, but the casino managers I talked to told me that this is industry standard.

      And wow—thanks for the compliment, Charley!

    • Or desperate! I like poker, myself, though Black Jack (should that be capitalized?) is fun, and much better than roulette—I like the illusion that I have at least a little control over the outcome!

  2. What a cool scene and you seem to know your stuff. Is she pocketing her tips? She must know she is being watched. Or thinks she’s more clever than she is? Or wants them to think she is when shes not? I just don’t know…way to keep me guessing!
    History Sleuth’s Milk Carton Murders

  3. I can hear the music and smell the cigarettes! Where are they supposed to put their tips? Now I’m curious. Were you casino worker in a previous lifetime??? My ignorance is showing.

  4. I wouldn’t know why tips aren’t pocketed if I hadn’t read the comments–but I sure could tell it was wrong and stupid from your snippet!

    Like the detail of the ‘echo.’

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