

Chris Rothstein teaches Christine Headen, 64, the basics of shuffling cards during a blackjack class. When it opens later this year, the MGM National Harbor plans to hire 700 workers to staff its table games. (Nikki Kahn/The Washington Post)

Before her first day of blackjack class, Stephanie Sizemore straightened her blonde hair, put on hot-pink lipstick and reached for the highest pair of heels she could find.

“It’s important to look good,” the 51-year-old told herself.

She had been waiting nearly 20 years to make her way back onto a casino floor.

“I haven’t dealt my cards since May 1997,” she said, referring to the month Maryland shuttered its charitable casinos, including one operated by the Ritchie Volunteer Fire Department, where she worked as a dealer. “There’s something about casinos that just intrigues me to no end.”

Sizemore, now a bartender and waitress, is hoping to return as a blackjack dealer at the upcoming MGM National Harbor, a $1.3 billion hotel and casino scheduled to open in Prince George’s County at the end of the year.

For the past month, she’s been shuffling cards and counting chips on her coffee table after she gets home from work at 1 a.m. And she’s been watching YouTube videos of shuffling techniques.

She is one of nearly 200 students who signed up for MGM’s Dealer School, a crash course in table games that began this month, with a six-week lesson on blackjack. Students must learn at least one additional game — craps, roulette or baccarat — and pass a series of auditions before they qualify for an interview. The hope is to eventually land one of 700 jobs dealing cards on the casino’s gambling floor. Five hundred of those jobs will be full-time positions that come with medical benefits.

Of the students in Sizemore’s class, about half are retired or planning to be soon. There’s a former CIA agent, a onetime professor and a former D.C. police officer. Sandra Simonsen, 61, recently left her administration job and wants to do something that doesn’t require sitting at a desk. Tyrone Patterson, 67, who is retired from the military, says he has always wanted to deal blackjack.

“It’s been on my bucket list for a long time,” he said.

In all, the MGM National Harbor is expected to employ about 3,600 people, adding to a rapidly growing pool of local hospitality jobs. Since the recession, the Washington area has created about 71,000 hotel, casino and restaurant positions, representing about 25 percent of all new jobs, according to data from George Mason University’s Center for Regional Analysis.

Although the hospitality industry has added more local jobs than any other sector, they are often hourly, low-wage positions with high turnover rates. Training programs like MGM’s dealer school are aimed at preparing local residents for more permanent jobs, with varying levels of success. The Marriott Marquis Washington D.C. — the convention center hotel that received $206 million in public subsidies — for example, hired just 178 of the 719 graduates of its job-training program when it opened in 2014, according to figures from the D.C. Department of Employment Services.

At MGM, executives say they’re not sure how many participants they will hire. Earlier this year, 50 students went through its hospitality training program. Now a couple hundred more are paying $380 for MGM’s six-week blackjack session, offered in conjunction with Prince George’s Community College. Subsequent classes cost $240 for mini-

baccarat, $580 for roulette and $720 for craps.

Ryan Krach, 35, said he’s waited almost three years for an opportunity to work at MGM National Harbor. Earlier this month, he left his job as an athletic trainer in Nashville, packed up $30,000 in savings and drove toward the nation’s capital to attend dealer school. He has been playing craps since he was 8, and he wants to deal poker and blackjack.

“This is my best chance for working at a casino,” he said. “You get all the excitement of playing without the risk of losing.”



Stephanie Sizemore, 51, used to work as a blackjack dealer in the 1990s. She is hoping to make her way back onto a casino floor this year. (Nikki Kahn/The Washington Post)

‘It’s like a dream’

Class begins 23 minutes late because there are so many last-minute registrations.

“Good morning, everyone,” casino manager Jamie Hartley says. “Welcome to day one of your new career.”

He introduces five instructors, all veterans of gambling towns including Atlantic City, Las Vegas and Biloxi, Miss.

“We’ve been in your shoes,” says one, a former pit manager at the Bellagio. “We all started as dealers going to school.”

“It’s like a dream,” another adds. “It’s a great opportunity, so take advantage of it.”

“It’s a good way to make a lot of money,” a third says.

A spokeswoman for MGM National Harbor would not disclose how much the company plans to pay. The average salary for gaming dealers in Maryland is $18,870 a year, or $9.07 an hour, according to 2015 data from the Bureau of Labor Statistics. Nationally, the average is $21,810 a year, or $10.49 an hour.

Yet class instructors allude to the prospect of large payouts and substantial tips.

“Guys, you’re here for one reason: to make money,” Chris Rothstein said during opening remarks. “We want you to smile.”

And with that, each student receives two decks of cards and 20 chips. They begin practicing shuffles: stripping the cards, then riffling them.

At one end of the room, Sizemore, who works at Plaza Mexico in Fallston, Md., said she heard that starting pay, with tips, would be about $50,000 a year. At the other end, Pai Boone Saejung said he heard that figure is closer to $60,000.

Whatever the case may be, many of the attendees — real estate brokers, government workers, bartenders — say they already make more than what they’re likely to pull in at the casino. But the job’s allure is as much about being in the presence of money — getting a front-row seat to big-stake bets and even bigger wins — as it is about the cash they would take home.

“It’ll be great because I’ll get to see all the big wins,” said Sakina Plummer, 40, who used to be a computer programmer. “With this job, I can play without having to worry about losing.”

That’s also the appeal for Saejung, 62, who plans to retire from a graveyard shift at the U.S. Postal Service later this year.

“I’m a big gambler,” he said, adding that he would take a sizable pay cut to work for the casino. “If I don’t work here, I’ll be on the other side of the table losing money.”

A seat away, Stanley Onye is holding chips for the first time.

“I’ve never played anything like this,” said Onye, 60, who used to teach government and economics at the University of the District of Columbia. “But then I heard about this casino and I thought, you know what, I want to learn this.”

He picks up his chips and practices dropping them into four stacks of five. Clack, clack, clack, clack.

“Stan, let me see what you’ve got,” said Cornell Evans, the casino’s table games pit manager.

Onye does it again, this time a bit faster.

“How about that?” he said. “It’s getting easier.”



Lindsey Avara, 23, works as a cocktail waitress at Hollywood Casino Perryville, but she wants to become a dealer. “It’s very energizing being in a casino,” she says. (Nikki Kahn/The Washington Post)

‘In the middle of it all’

When it opens in December, the MGM National Harbor will become Maryland’s sixth and final casino. The 18-story building will have 140 gaming tables, 3,600 slot machines and a 3,000-seat theater. A number of big-name chefs, including José Andrés, Marcus Samuelsson and brothers Bryan and Michael Voltaggio are opening restaurants at the property.

“You don’t have to be a gambler to come and join us,” said Bill Boasberg, the casino’s general manager. “There’s more to do than just come here for the casino floor.”

But the sprawling, 24-hour casino floor is largely where the money is, and table games are among the most lucrative sources of revenue. Last year, Maryland’s five casinos generated $1.04 billion in gambling revenue, including $487 million for the state.

Since Maryland legalized casino gambling in 2008, casinos have contributed nearly $3.72 billion to the state, including $1.48 billion to its education trust fund.

“MGM is a win-win-win,” Gordon Medenica, director of the Maryland Lottery and Gaming Control Agency, said in an email. “It brings jobs, tourists and significant tax revenue to the state. It is uniquely located to attract a majority of its customers from Virginia and Washington, two jurisdictions that do not offer casino gaming.”

Back at dealer school, a table of five women, with pink manicures, practice shuffling their cards.

“I’m bored to death,” said Coretta McKinney, a real estate broker who heard about the blackjack class on Facebook. “I’m probably going to have second thoughts.”

A few chairs away, Tanya Watson, 53, pulls out her expired gambling license from the front pocket of her jeans. It is from the 1990s, when she was a cocktail waitress at the Showboat Atlantic City Hotel & Casino.

“I’m used to being on the casino floor,” she said. “But I’ve always wanted to be a dealer. I don’t care what it is — blackjack, craps, roulette — I just want to be on the floor, in the middle of it all.”

That’s the kind of excitement Miriam Zapata is looking for, too.

“Working in a casino, that’s one of my dreams,” said the 34-year-old, who owns a hair styling business. “I like money. I like to play with money. I always wanted to go to Vegas — but now they’re bringing Vegas over here.”

Whether she, or any of her classmates, will end up with a job at MGM National Harbor has yet to be seen. A number of hurdles remain. At the end of the six weeks, they’ll have to audition in front of a panel of three managers, who will evaluate them on a number of criteria: Are they shuffling their cards correctly? Using the right technique to dole out chips? Are they smiling? Can they hold a conversation while they’re dealing?

After that comes a round of formal interviews with the casino’s general manager, then background screenings and drug tests.

“We will do everything in our power to get them to the next level,” said Hartly, the casino’s manager. “We want all of these students to end up with jobs.”

After three hours, class is over — at least for today. It ends much the same way it began: “Congrats on your first day,” Hartly said. “This is your first step for starting your new career.”

The students pack up their bags. Don’t forget to practice, instructors say. One suggests using an ironing board for mock runs at home — it’s about the same height as a blackjack table and comes with a similar cloth covering.

Onye walks out, decks of cards in hand, a big smile on his face.

He’s going to practice shuffling the cards tonight, he said. Maybe he’ll buy some chips, too.

“I’m excited,” he said. “Let me tell you, I am excited.”