The player next to me—as is often the case—was tipping the dealer tonight. I—as is always the case—was not. The dealer thanked Mr. Tips more noticeably each time for the table scraps coming his way, and Mr. Tips responded by ever more loudly espousing the eternal virtues of tipping. They were addressing each other, but they were talking at me. (more…)
In search of a cheap last-minute flight to a casino destination west of the Rockies, I stumbled upon something wonderful this week. The cheapest flight available—shockingly cheaper than all of the others—involved a nine-hour layover in Las Vegas. (more…)
Here we go again. A brash young pit boss with an itchy trigger finger just backed me off. It’s déjà vu all over again. Listen—no one can know you are a good card counter in the first hour. It’s impossible. (more…)
Here’s a first: I just got comped–against my will.
I arrived at the large tribal casino knowing I had been backed off here before. If I had any chance for earning EV, I would have to fly under the radar. I would hit the graveyard shift in “Disguise #1.” The following morning (different shift) I would play in “Disguise #2.” Complication: only when I arrived did I realize that the nearest motel was half an hour away, equivalent to an hour of lost playing time for each round trip, so I ended up just booking a room at the casino. More pricey and risky, but I deemed it worth the trade-off in a very tightly scheduled weekend of play. (more…)
If there ever is an appropriate time to throw a tantrum—it is now.
When the new dealer stepped up I was betting two hands of $500 each at an advantaged count. She burned a card, waited for a player to finish fumbling with his bet, burned a card, and dealt out the round.
Catch that? Two burn cards.
I got a hard 13 and a hard 14. Dealer got an ace. Cue tantrum. (more…)