I am enjoying the read. My boss tells me I should write a book about my journey. Sometimes I think I should. I enjoy reading these sorts of stories and I think others do too. I like the way you write.
Why not wongout on him, he still had you by $16.25 with his Double Bonus play so far, besides he took up almost all the clothing space in the room. If by the third or fourth day and your friend Steve has you by four or five hundred then, you should get on a bus with a large box containing about 23 pairs of Steve's footware and head for Fremont Street, and sell them on a corner.
Diary of a Blackjack Player
4
"Noli nothis permittere te terere"
Light started to shine brightly on my eyelids. I woke suddenly, with a start, wondering where in the world I had ended up. Unfortunately, my brain suddenly caught up with the rest of me and flashbacks to the previous evening were now coming through thick and fast. Evening !! Hang on, I glanced at my watch - it stared back at me, unmoving, harsh and totally hard-faced: the display showed 16:34. Unbelieving, I tried to recollect whether I had altered it to Pacific time the previous day. I had to admit, I could not remember. Agitated, I fumbled around in the semi-darkness for the TV remote; I pressed all the buttons simultaneously. A corner of the room lit up with the face of some unknown minor American politician being grilled on a second-rate chat show. The date and time of day glowed unerringly at the bottom of the screen: Monday, September 3 16:35 cpt. What? I had been asleep for over thirty-six hours ! My yearly expedition to this neon-lit Mecca in the desert was already almost a third over and I only remember arriving the night before.
Suddenly, it all came rushing back to me. The three hours spent at that one initial Blackjack table, firstly just trying to retrieve my small loss of ten dollars, then at the finish trying to minimise my current losses of over five hundred ! Next, a vision of a far-flung corner of Caesar's Palace looms into view with a roulette wheel and what seems like hundreds of red numbers dropping in, while I'm stood there betting dollar after dollar on black !
I scrunch my eyes back shut again, trying to drift back off into unconsciousness - at least I'll be safe from my nightmares for a few more hours, but to no avail_ - I open them back up and have to blink, as the desert sun has now started to shine brightly into the room. I am now clutching at straws, anything to give me a ray of hope, as would a drowning man clutch at a proffered sharpened knife. I rifle through my pockets, and dig out whatever my sweating palms can get their fingers around. I pile it all together on the small bedside table - the total sum of three dollars, sixty cents....and two polo mints !
Surely I'm dreaming? Surely this cannot keep happening to me, year after year. Oh, woe is me, despair and indefatigable desolation. I slump back against the bed. From outside I hear the first few bars of what seems like some type of 'Fado' lilting melody. It's got to be the time for it....I reach over and light my especially prepared (with this in mind) last cigar (Hamlet, naturellement). I inhale deeply. Mmm, aah well, ho hum, such is life. With this consoling thought, I toddle off down the corridor to grab breakfast....
It's close to an hour. That's one of my pet peeves about flying these days. From the time they begin the descent (you hear the slight cutback in the engines), it's 40 minutes to touchdown - too damn long!. They can do it quicker. My friend was on a flight where they thought a passenger was having a heart attack. Guess what - the approach was a steeper 10 minute approach. Keep it going 500 mph until it's time to go down!!Originally Posted by Midwest Player
Diary of a Blackjack Player
5
"Venerunt aliquando Rosae"
The buffet was in full swing when I went down to eat. I glanced across the crowded restaurant and spotted Steve, my playing partner, across the multitude of bobbing heads.
"Guiseppe", he shouted to me. I sauntered over. "Decided to surface then, have you ?" he remarked casually. I gave him a grimaced smile, trying hard to conceal my overwhelming disappointment at being hammered the previous night. He had obviously been around that evening and had guessed that I might need cheering up a bit. "What's up with you then ? You look like someone that's found a sixpence and lost a fiver." I realised that he was treading carefully, hoping that I had already overcome my temporary despair and had already put it behind me. "What do you think ?", I thundered at him, moodily. "All right, all right, don't take it out on me, take it out on one of them" he gestured, pointing at a bank of card tables over my shoulder. I had to make a quick decision.
I feel at this point I must explain to readers how difficult this is for me. Now, people that may understand a bit of my character know perfectly well that I cannot make decisions at the best of times, and (obviously) today was not one of those.
Anyway, I took him up on his offer. "Right then, you stay there, have another cup of weak American tea (Americans just cannot make a decent cup of tea), and I'll be back within the hour". I strode purposefully across the gaming floor to the nearest empty blackjack table.
"Afternoon, you playing ?", drawled the middle-aged American dealer. I nodded in the affirmative, reaching down to find my carefully hidden twenty dollar bill that I had neatly folded up in my shoe for such a last-gasp 'do-or-die' situation as this.
He exchanged my grubby greenback for chips and proceeded to shuffle. This was a two-deck hand-held game, my favourite, which seemed to me to be an ironic statement about the situation, but it had to be done. I placed three silver dollars in the betting square and inhaled deeply. The rest of my holiday is now in your hands Hank, I whispered to myself. He dealt. I prayed.
I stole a quick glance at my watch. Six o'clock. "No more for me this shoe, cash in please", I stated to the dealer. He looked at me, slightly quizzical, but performed the task without comment. "Four, five, six, seven....hundred and eighty-five. Have a nice evening". He bade me farewell from the table. I tossed him back a $5 chip and got up. Yes ! I secretly allowed myself an inward cheer and almost hopped, skipped and jumped back to where Steve was now standing, obviously having been watching me for the past few minutes.
"You jammy git", he said with a smile on his face. "How did you get away with that?'. "Dunno really," I retorted, almost in apology. "The Yank just dealt the cards and kept busting". "Right then, let's go downtown and hit the clubs there !". "OK, have you paid for the buffet ?". "Just done it, money's on the table". I looked over. It must have come to about four dollars something, as a $5 bill was laid there. I winked at Steve and then added an extra $1 to the amount. "Let's give them a tip, eh ?"
Nice to know. I shall endeavour to perservere.
https://youtu.be/hRX6hSGeZs4
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