I AM NOT HERE TO LISTEN TO YOU CURSE.
Curstomer the First
Him: F bomb. F bomb. S bomb.
Me: Sir, please mind your language.
Him (taken aback): Oh.
Him: F bomb. F bomb.
Me: Sir, that kind of language is not tolerated at the tables. Please stop, or your hands will be voided.
Him and his Friend: Cash out please. (To each other) Dealer's crap anyway, let's try our luck someplace else.
So I'm a crappy dealer, because I won't let you curse at me?
Curstomer the Second
Dude. We get it. You belong to that particular group that's well known for the behaviors you're displaying.
[NB: I am trying my hardest to stay out of fratching territory, so I will not elaborate further - suffice it to say that this guy wasn't just hitting every negative stereotype about his particular group - he was REVELING in them.]
But your language is unacceptable at the tables, and I don't know what the HELL my supervisor is listening to (that's some co-worker suck there, but I'm not even going to go down that road) but I can tell you who won't be listening to you anymore: me.
I said to my superversor, "Find yourself another dealer, cos I'm done with this table."
Note to your cronies: Refusal to listen to your profanity is NOT bad customer service on my part. It was shitty supervising on my coworker's part.
Now, I'd like to digress from my prepared remarks to discuss how I invented the terlet...