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Members of the in-house organizing committee,
they say, have been marked for a witch hunt.
"People are being suspended from the Wynn right
now for the flimsiest of excuses," says the
dealers' most prominent ally, Assemblyman Bob L.
Beers, the Henderson Republican. "It's obvious:
They voted in a union. The free market gives you
the right to buy, sell and trade without
interference. It does not give you a right to
abuse your employees."
Two members of the original organizing committee
of 10, Larson and Juan Carlos DeLeon, have
received stringent discipline, according to
multiple sources. Both have filed charges with
the National Labor Relations Board, as have
in-house activists Lucie Pochopova and Michael
Baldino. (CityLife was unable to locate Baldino,
and calls to DeLeon and Pochopova went
unreturned.)
That makes four NLRB charges filed between April
26 and June 6, with the NLRB reporting a fifth
on June 11. The charges leveled at Wynn Las
Vegas accuse the resort of discrimination,
suspension and -- in Baldino's case --
termination in retaliation for pro-union
activities. Wynn employs approximately 635
dealers, plus an unspecified number of "extra
boards," or standby dealers.
Gregory Kamer, who has represented Wynn
throughout the tip wrangle, is unruffled by the
situation.
"The fact that a charge has been filed is
meaningless," he says, pointing out that each
charge must be investigated, then heard by an
administrative judge and only then could the
NLRB rule a violation has occurred. It can be
prolonged process, too. Former Wynn dealer
Cynthia Fields filed her initial grievance with
the NLRB Nov. 8 but will not get a hearing until
July 30. Factor in a similar timeline, and
DeLeon and Pochopova could still be wrangling
with Wynn next April.
"Why are they now filing charges?" asks Kamer.
He says it's customary to see an increase in
NLRB filings when leading up to a union election
and subsequent contract negotiation. If you're
pro-union, he says, it's an "easy, automatic
response" to perceive discipline as persecution.
Replies Frank McCann, the TWU's international
director of organizing, "It's not common for us
to get every one of our committee members
written up right after an election." McCann's
union filed NLRB charges on Larson's and
Baldino's behalf, and McCann says he can't
recall having to do that for anyone anywhere
else this year.
"We have had a surge in the last two weeks of
our in-house committee organizer's [sic] being
put on 'suspension' pending investigation," a
TWU source wrote on June 7. "The last three that
I remember clearly have all asked for a witness
to be with them -- they were denied while the
company had their own witnesses in the room.
This last dealer," subsequently identified as
Dennis Laux, "was called AT HOME yesterday and
put on suspension ..." (Laux was one of two
dealers interviewed when the Las Vegas Business
Press, which, like CityLife, is owned by the
Stephens Media LLC, broke the news on April 13
that Wynn dealers had filed for an
NLRB-supervised election.)
"They're trying to create a paper trail," says a
multi-game dealer, "but they're not doing a very
good job because they're only creating a paper
trail on the organizers."
'Black Monday'
Wynn and his dealers have been at loggerheads
ever since "Black Monday," his Aug. 21, 2006
announcement that, henceforth, dealers would be
forced to share their tips with pit bosses and
boxmen. Wynn accused dealers, who work for
minimum wage plus tips, of making too much money
compared to pit bosses. The latter now receive
salaries estimated at $60,000 (supplemented by
tips). According to an appeal filed in the case
of Wynn dealers Joseph Cesarz and Daniel
Baldonado, Wynn effectively raised those
salaries to $90,000 by giving each pit boss a
$30,000 share of the tip pool.
Wynn's contention that his dealers were making
$100,000 was taken up by local media outlets and
repeated as gospel, although several dealers
hotly dispute the figure.
"He was a genius when he said that $100,000
dealer thing because that's all people could
focus on," says one craps dealer. "Well, I don't
make no hundred thousand. But that's everyone's
interpretation. Once you give them that figure,
it's tough to take back."
Another, even angrier Wynn dealer says he's
$11,000 short, in a six-month, year-over-year
comparison. A third says he made $6,500 less in
the first five months of the new policy.
A bill that would have outlawed Wynn's
tip-distribution died last month in the state
Senate after easily passing in the Assembly.
Beers, the original author of the legislation,
says "it was not intended to have a hearing" in
the upper house. Senate Majority Leader Bill
Raggio "gave me a dressing-down for even
bringing the bill forward: What did I have
against Steve Wynn?"
Raggio says Beers mischaracterizes their
exchange. "I know where you're going with this,"
he adds, "but would it be appropriate to tell
companies how they can distribute their bonuses?
I don't care if it's the Wynn Hotel or anywhere
else. That's company policy ... What's the big
issue about this?"
Former state Sen. Donald Mello, who introduced
the state's current tip-pooling law in 1971,
criticizes Raggio for his stance. "To have Bill
Raggio say something like that shows how little
he understands the tip bill," Mello says. Wynn,
"opened up Pandora's box. It's absolutely one of
the greediest things I've ever seen."
The heat is on
"Initially, it was very calm," roulette dealer
Jesse Guest says of the post-election
atmosphere. "It seemed everybody was in shock.
All the pressure we had been feeling went away.
"All of a sudden, like clockwork, they've been
suspending people left and right," Guest
continues. "From the information I have, the
only people being suspended are on the
organizing committee," whose 10 charter members
included both Guest and his wife.
"I am very alarmed and concerned at the rate and
frequency that dealers, particularly in-house
TWU union organizers, are being written up or
suspended since we won the union election," says
Kanie Kastroll, arguably the most visible of the
organizers. "The dealers' minds should be at
ease now after our win, but to the contrary,
they are even more afraid for their jobs."
"We had some crazy write-ups," says organizer
Meghan Smith. Everyone's favorite seems to be
the dealer who got reprimanded for "bad body
language" after he raised his hands to
remonstrate with a pit boss. That same dealer,
several colleagues say, was upbraided for
"excessive customer interaction." It's this sort
of incident that drives dealers to describe the
rulemaking at Wynn as "archaic and ridiculous."
"Floorpeople are nitpicking at things on the
games," says the blackjack dealer. "Suddenly
it's earth-shattering now" whether a dealer logs
his I.D. number into the table game computer
before or after the previous dealer departs.
"Extra days off are impossible to get," the
dealer continues, despite the presence of an
estimated 100 standby dealers. "They're just
making life as hard for us within that perimeter
as they can."
"My wife was written up before the election for
something really silly," says Guest. She got a
pre-election smackdown for removing the ashtrays
from her blackjack table after a player
requested it be made a no-smoking spot. For
this, Guest says, his wife was written up for
"apparent insubordination."
Guest remembers Wynn urging dealers to
demonstrate initiative, back when the resort
opened. "Now, the focus has changed from all-out
customer service to self-preservation at all
costs," he says. Or, as another less
diplomatically puts it, floor supervisors "can't
wipe their own ass without getting a shift boss"
to approve it, and are living in fear because of
the termination of 20 pit bosses and boxmen on
and around March 1.
Observes a dealer at a nearby property, it's a
no-win situation: "it would be hard to get
through the day without some infraction [such
as] not clearing your hands before adjusting
eyeglasses or when leaving the game, saying
something to a dealer on the next game, not
shuffling exactly according to procedure, etc."
But, says Larson, "in my 12 years as a
supervisor [at Bellagio], I never told on a
dealer once." Quite a contrast to the situation
she says she's experiencing at Wynn. Her
suspension came when she was dealing blackjack
poolside and a player began pressing her on the
casino's tip-sharing policy.
"Why are they doing this?" the player asked her.
"The only derogatory thing that I said was, 'He
told the dealers in a meeting, "I don't know why
you keep calling it 'your' money. It's my money
and I can do with it what I want."' Then they
asked me how much it's affecting me and I said,
'I'm losing $1,200 a month.'"
The following Thursday, Larson was called into a
meeting. "They kept pushing me, 'Didn't you know
you couldn't talk about the tip policy?'" which
had even made the pages of The Wall Street
Journal. Suspended for three days, she called
Beers who, in turn, called Nevada Labor
Commissioner Michael Tanchek.
"I was interested in whether or not they [the
Office of the State Labor Commissioner] were
actually working for the laborer or just being a
tool of Steve Wynn, which they vehemently
denied," Beers recalls. "I reminded them I would
be watching this because the Labor Commission
has to come to the Legislature for funding."
Suspended on April 25, Larson was back at work
on the 28th and was reimbursed for lost pay. But
"I believe if I wouldn't have pursued the issue
they would have fired me." Even so, "I feel
nervous about everything," she admits.
Final jeopardy
Numerous dealers allege that casino managers,
particularly day-shift manager Pat Mosca, have
been telling floor supervisors to tighten the
screws on dealers. "I do know that the dealers
were told by a floor super after the vote,"
writes the TWU source, "that they were asked to
make the employees sorry that they ever voted
for a union." Contacted by CityLife, Mosca
replied, "I can't discuss anything with you."
What bothers many dealers is not the discipline
but the capriciousness with which they say it's
employed. "A guy on swing shift got written up
for not clearing his hands and he never even had
a tardy," Larson says, but now he's received his
final warning. Standard practice outside Wynn,
various sources say, involves a progression from
an oral warning to a written one, to a final
written warning, to suspension.
"They're being suspended on a write-up when the
seriousness of the offense may not be that bad,
like a slight mistake that is corrected anyway,"
protests an in-house organizer. "It's too severe
... we're looking at a rate of almost one a day.
The shift managers, they know they're going
down. They blame anything bad that's going to
happen to them on the union. They truly believe
that we are threatening their tip money and
that's sick. Instead, they should be grateful
for the nearly a year of bonus cash."
But not all are chafing these days.
"No one's bothered me so far," reports Mariana
Hemsey, a vocal member of the dealers'
rebellion. "I spoke up but I haven't run for
anything."
Baldonado, who is appealing his class-action
lawsuit against Wynn to the Nevada Supreme
Court, says "They pretty much have left me alone
for now but I know they're watching me. Most of
us just go there, try to do our job and have
fun." Baldonado's attorney, Leon Greenberg, begs
to differ with his client, noting that Wynn is
continuing to sue Baldonado and Cesarz for
$70,000 in legal fees.
Pit bosses are feeling the heat, too, say
dealers. "A week and a half, two weeks ago, I
happened to see my manager -- who I like a lot
-- get in trouble for not having the chairs in
her section in the proper order," reports Smith.
"They call it 'OGRE': orange, green, red and
they want them in order. That [reprimand] is
just asinine! It's just ridiculous the things
that they are concerned about."
Why don't they quit?
"You've put them in a spot where they can't
quit," a craps dealer responds. "After you're in
there for over a year, you're committed. The
ship's sailing." He elaborates that going
somewhere else would mean starting back at the
bottom of the totem pole, "because, at other
places, you do time as an extra [board]. Why
would you start at the bottom when you're here
and you're invested?"
"When [tip-pooling] happened, I almost did
quit," Baldonado says. "I thought, 'I'll just go
find another job.' Then I thought, 'If I do that
and this thing spreads, what then?' I didn't
want it to follow me. It would all have been in
vain. It's still a good job and we still hope
there will be a turnaround of this policy
somehow," either through litigation or at the
bargaining table.
Some blame the apparent coziness in Wynn Las
Vegas' executive suite. Steve Wynn's nephew,
Andrew Pascal, is the property's president and
wife Elaine Wynn sits on the board of directors.
Senior Vice President of Human Resources Peter
Early is married to Wynn's daughter Gillian who,
at the time of her marriage, was in her father's
employ.
(Calls and e-mails to Wynn spokeswoman Denise
Randazzo and Corporate Counsel Kevin Tourek were
not returned, and casino manager Bill Westbrook
politely declined to answer any questions, even
as to his precise job title, deferring all
queries to Pascal.)
Still, both the TWU and its dealer supporters
contend that they're extending the olive branch,
to little avail. "We don't want to hurt Wynn,"
TWU organizer Linda Dill argues. "He's trying to
put fear back in them but it's not going to
work."
"I actually thought Steve Wynn was real
positive, was credible, had integrity,"
dolefully concludes the craps dealer. "He can't
be struggling for the money, but I know a lot of
people want retribution. It never had to be like
this and that's what's sad: It never had to be
like this."
Copyright © 2007,
Las Vegas CityLife
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