A trip, 3/12 to 3/15.
03-27-2014
, 06:38 PM
Back down I come with a fresh 20k. I discover I have a new gambling friend joining me, and we play a marvelous three hour session of roughly eight shoes together. We have some typical ups and downs, but nothing that comes close to wiping us out by any stretch. I am typically betting about $1k a hand, and he bets a small progression from the minimum $200 up to about $400. Actually, he probably doubles his $4k along the way, which is great, while I kind of limp along in the $15 to $17k range.
Then, the miracle shoe besets us. You know, the one where you just cannot seem to lose. The one where the dealer always cleanly busts her 6 with two tens, right away, with a minimum of fuss. The one where your hard 18 seems to end up against a 17, and your 19 ends up against an 18. It is great. I move my betting up pretty aggressively, and yellow chips start flying out of the rack, and 25 hands later, I have this:
Whoohoo, that happens to be a 58.5k stack, ladies and gents. We both give each other a sloppy bear hug (alcohol has set in with my friend), exchange numbers so we can meet up again the next night, and call it a night.
Actually, first, the dealer tries to color me up. She stacks the chips in a really unintuitive, weird way and then proceeds to count up $48.5k. The boss lady is watching, of course, and concurs. I, of course, am also watching and do not.
I let them count it a few more times -- they almost seem unsure of themselves, as if they subconsciously know something is wrong -- and then I suggest that they put all the chips out in even heights and in blocks of $10k so that they can see better. Sure enough, then we all "discover" that I am $10,000 richer than I was a few moments before. (Of course, the dealer immediately insists that that was what she thought it was the whole time, lolz.)
Even if I had been unpaying attention and if they were doofuses and only gave me 48, I think an error at this scale would've been caught later. At the next rack count, they would find the mistake, and then they would go back to the tape (err, disk) and review what could only be a couple players. And they would leave me a nice message and maybe a flower and some chocolates to go with my $10k they temporarily stiffed me out of. Still, a little sketchy, eh? Count yer chips, folks.
So, it's 4:30am and time for bed, but I stick a nice 58.5k into my front money account and enjoy the idea of being on a serious heater in Vegas. It is a good feeling to, roughly speaking, know that it is "impossible" to end up not in the black at the end of this trip. Famous last words, those...
Then, the miracle shoe besets us. You know, the one where you just cannot seem to lose. The one where the dealer always cleanly busts her 6 with two tens, right away, with a minimum of fuss. The one where your hard 18 seems to end up against a 17, and your 19 ends up against an 18. It is great. I move my betting up pretty aggressively, and yellow chips start flying out of the rack, and 25 hands later, I have this:
Whoohoo, that happens to be a 58.5k stack, ladies and gents. We both give each other a sloppy bear hug (alcohol has set in with my friend), exchange numbers so we can meet up again the next night, and call it a night.
Actually, first, the dealer tries to color me up. She stacks the chips in a really unintuitive, weird way and then proceeds to count up $48.5k. The boss lady is watching, of course, and concurs. I, of course, am also watching and do not.
I let them count it a few more times -- they almost seem unsure of themselves, as if they subconsciously know something is wrong -- and then I suggest that they put all the chips out in even heights and in blocks of $10k so that they can see better. Sure enough, then we all "discover" that I am $10,000 richer than I was a few moments before. (Of course, the dealer immediately insists that that was what she thought it was the whole time, lolz.)
Even if I had been unpaying attention and if they were doofuses and only gave me 48, I think an error at this scale would've been caught later. At the next rack count, they would find the mistake, and then they would go back to the tape (err, disk) and review what could only be a couple players. And they would leave me a nice message and maybe a flower and some chocolates to go with my $10k they temporarily stiffed me out of. Still, a little sketchy, eh? Count yer chips, folks.
So, it's 4:30am and time for bed, but I stick a nice 58.5k into my front money account and enjoy the idea of being on a serious heater in Vegas. It is a good feeling to, roughly speaking, know that it is "impossible" to end up not in the black at the end of this trip. Famous last words, those...
03-29-2014
, 01:10 AM
Friday dawns, well, I don't know, because I woke up at 2:30. Off to the gym, and then another round of my back being beaten to a pulp by the same massage therapist, and then the hot tub, and the emergency detonatable cool mist room, and yadda yadda. How about I just fast forward to the gambling?
I end up in MGM again, having taken a more circuitous evening stroll already, now that the weather has warmed considerably and it is just a sin not to be out enjoying that twilight period on the Strip. The crowds are not quite New Years Eve-level, but they are intense, especially at MGM where a lot of the basketball games are being held.
I have another dinner reservation there that I'm a touch early for, so I end up playing about 30 minutes of blackjack there at a $300/h average. I started with $2700 and cashed out for $5250, making a nice little profit that motivated me to stop being a cheapskate and spring for a glass of wine and the dessert with dinner.
Next, I decide to walk through some of the older, gracefully-aging casinos nearby. Okay, really they are ghetto casinos, but I kind of like that. Plus, back when the poker boom was lighting up, my college friends and I were regulars at the Hooters-nee-San Remo, with its lovely $19/night rooms with two queen beds and a leaky air-conditioner. I figured, ten years later and at a vastly different point in my life in pretty muchevery way, I'd enjoy seeing the old haunt and reminiscing.
On the way, I wandered into NYNY, where they had a rather appealing row of bartop video poker machines that overlook the main casino floor. I decided to have some Starbucks and sit there and play a little, so I stuck $100 in and, five hands later, hit this:
(Notice my masterful framing; you can see the nice view there in the background? Yeah? Impressed?)
Being a guy who knows when the gig is up, I immediately cashed out, of course. $375 for 90 seconds of work, good deal.
I end up in MGM again, having taken a more circuitous evening stroll already, now that the weather has warmed considerably and it is just a sin not to be out enjoying that twilight period on the Strip. The crowds are not quite New Years Eve-level, but they are intense, especially at MGM where a lot of the basketball games are being held.
I have another dinner reservation there that I'm a touch early for, so I end up playing about 30 minutes of blackjack there at a $300/h average. I started with $2700 and cashed out for $5250, making a nice little profit that motivated me to stop being a cheapskate and spring for a glass of wine and the dessert with dinner.
Next, I decide to walk through some of the older, gracefully-aging casinos nearby. Okay, really they are ghetto casinos, but I kind of like that. Plus, back when the poker boom was lighting up, my college friends and I were regulars at the Hooters-nee-San Remo, with its lovely $19/night rooms with two queen beds and a leaky air-conditioner. I figured, ten years later and at a vastly different point in my life in pretty muchevery way, I'd enjoy seeing the old haunt and reminiscing.
On the way, I wandered into NYNY, where they had a rather appealing row of bartop video poker machines that overlook the main casino floor. I decided to have some Starbucks and sit there and play a little, so I stuck $100 in and, five hands later, hit this:
(Notice my masterful framing; you can see the nice view there in the background? Yeah? Impressed?)
Being a guy who knows when the gig is up, I immediately cashed out, of course. $375 for 90 seconds of work, good deal.
04-01-2014
, 07:40 PM
Friday night, continued
So, exactly at the moment I hit the quad 4's, my blackjack buddy from the other night and his girlfriend text me, inquiring as to why I am not sitting with them like a degenerate and gambling already. I explain that I will meet them around 1am, like we did the night before, and like I promised.
After heading out of Hooters, I cruise it back to Cosmo by way of the Tram to Nowhere, the Flamingo, and other casinos that I can't really remember. Who cares? It's one last chance to gambol.
I take my $35.5k in profits out in chocolates and stick them in my pocket, because somehow having large-denomination chips in my pocket makes me feel more confident. The cards will be better, right?
I play heads-up for a while with my newfound betting buddy in absentia, which is probably better, because I have an easier time counting when I am not trying to goof off and hold a separate conversation with others at the same time. Unfortunately, this technique does not work very well at all, and I plow through chocolate after chocolate as the dealer works me over. I want to keep my betting well above the $200 table minimum so that, should I get a strong shoe at some point, I can raise it well past the Kelly criterion for my "freeroll profit" bankroll and push hard without attracting undue attention. But it's really expensive to flat-bet $500 into deeply negative shoe after shoe, ugh.
Finally, friend arrives, and that helps a lot, because now I can lose the same amount but in twice the number of crappy-shoe cards. That's exactly what happens, and by the time a very nice gentleman dealer from Tenneesee shows up, I am in the "danger" zone, regularly sticking 2 or 3 "yeller" chips out there at a time with only two chocolates remaining. So, yeah, I have turned my 38k into about 10.
So, exactly at the moment I hit the quad 4's, my blackjack buddy from the other night and his girlfriend text me, inquiring as to why I am not sitting with them like a degenerate and gambling already. I explain that I will meet them around 1am, like we did the night before, and like I promised.
After heading out of Hooters, I cruise it back to Cosmo by way of the Tram to Nowhere, the Flamingo, and other casinos that I can't really remember. Who cares? It's one last chance to gambol.
I take my $35.5k in profits out in chocolates and stick them in my pocket, because somehow having large-denomination chips in my pocket makes me feel more confident. The cards will be better, right?
I play heads-up for a while with my newfound betting buddy in absentia, which is probably better, because I have an easier time counting when I am not trying to goof off and hold a separate conversation with others at the same time. Unfortunately, this technique does not work very well at all, and I plow through chocolate after chocolate as the dealer works me over. I want to keep my betting well above the $200 table minimum so that, should I get a strong shoe at some point, I can raise it well past the Kelly criterion for my "freeroll profit" bankroll and push hard without attracting undue attention. But it's really expensive to flat-bet $500 into deeply negative shoe after shoe, ugh.
Finally, friend arrives, and that helps a lot, because now I can lose the same amount but in twice the number of crappy-shoe cards. That's exactly what happens, and by the time a very nice gentleman dealer from Tenneesee shows up, I am in the "danger" zone, regularly sticking 2 or 3 "yeller" chips out there at a time with only two chocolates remaining. So, yeah, I have turned my 38k into about 10.
04-03-2014
, 04:00 AM
We get a couple of decent shoes, though, and I scramble back up to around 15k. Then, lady luck strikes.
I like to make a larger bet on the very first hand of the shoe, mostly because it's fun, but also because it gives a little cover for a pretty low price. We both immediately win that hand (+3k for me) and the count goes to +4. Then, on the second hand, dealer runs out a huge hand of little cards and busts. We also had some small rags, making that hand worth a juicy +12 and bringing the count to 16. TC is 2.7, and over the next twenty or thirty hands, the count somehow manages to stay nearly this high. Even better, we are both winning a lot of the hands, which makes it easier for me to increase my bet sizing.
I start calling for blackjacks, and out they pour. $3k out there turns a $4500 profit. $5k makes me $7500. Sure, we lose some as well. But it feels like 10 minutes of pure adventure, with the count so high, and the chips just keep piling up. I find myself wondering how much heat I am getting and whether "this will be the end of it," but honestly it doesn't seem like there's anything but mild dismay that we are rocking it. Maybe I am just a sucky player, because I effectively spread 10x and it felt like there was no heat whatsoever.
Anyway, we even win the last hand with a triumphant dealer bust, and there I am, for the third night in a row, sitting with a markedly larger tower of chips. My blackjack buddy is a real estate agent in Detroit, and I could have bought three or four of his listings with just those chips at that point. (Although, to be honest, wagering them on blackjack would probably be the better play.)
The actual profit-taking on the night was lower than the previous hot session, totaling about +24k. But the swing was larger and steeper, at 44k in one shoe, and as a bonus I got to fondle two "pumpkins" during my short walk to the cage. Yummy.
I like to make a larger bet on the very first hand of the shoe, mostly because it's fun, but also because it gives a little cover for a pretty low price. We both immediately win that hand (+3k for me) and the count goes to +4. Then, on the second hand, dealer runs out a huge hand of little cards and busts. We also had some small rags, making that hand worth a juicy +12 and bringing the count to 16. TC is 2.7, and over the next twenty or thirty hands, the count somehow manages to stay nearly this high. Even better, we are both winning a lot of the hands, which makes it easier for me to increase my bet sizing.
I start calling for blackjacks, and out they pour. $3k out there turns a $4500 profit. $5k makes me $7500. Sure, we lose some as well. But it feels like 10 minutes of pure adventure, with the count so high, and the chips just keep piling up. I find myself wondering how much heat I am getting and whether "this will be the end of it," but honestly it doesn't seem like there's anything but mild dismay that we are rocking it. Maybe I am just a sucky player, because I effectively spread 10x and it felt like there was no heat whatsoever.
Anyway, we even win the last hand with a triumphant dealer bust, and there I am, for the third night in a row, sitting with a markedly larger tower of chips. My blackjack buddy is a real estate agent in Detroit, and I could have bought three or four of his listings with just those chips at that point. (Although, to be honest, wagering them on blackjack would probably be the better play.)
The actual profit-taking on the night was lower than the previous hot session, totaling about +24k. But the swing was larger and steeper, at 44k in one shoe, and as a bonus I got to fondle two "pumpkins" during my short walk to the cage. Yummy.
04-16-2014
, 11:52 PM
Epilogue
So, that's about it for this trip.
I played $100 of video poker while I waited for the adrenaline to flush itself out of my system. I argued with the cage when they tried to force me to take $120k in cash (not the kind of thing I wanted to get stuck carrying on a bunch of international flights). I twisted my host's arm to try to get maximum comp value for my theoretical losses. My play came out to 12 hours at an average of 2200/hand, which I suspect will mean they'll be happy to have me back. I had fun pulling the giant limo into a ghetto bank branch and trying to shove all that cash through the little sliding door in the bulletproof window. Really, you had to be there!
I should probably stop gambling while I'm way ahead, and to be fair I no longer have the will or motivation to do extended trips or a lot of grinding at poker. But, you can count on at least one more report before I wipe out my whole BR and have to get back out there delivering pizzas.
Trip net was +$68,631.
See you next time.
So, that's about it for this trip.
I played $100 of video poker while I waited for the adrenaline to flush itself out of my system. I argued with the cage when they tried to force me to take $120k in cash (not the kind of thing I wanted to get stuck carrying on a bunch of international flights). I twisted my host's arm to try to get maximum comp value for my theoretical losses. My play came out to 12 hours at an average of 2200/hand, which I suspect will mean they'll be happy to have me back. I had fun pulling the giant limo into a ghetto bank branch and trying to shove all that cash through the little sliding door in the bulletproof window. Really, you had to be there!
I should probably stop gambling while I'm way ahead, and to be fair I no longer have the will or motivation to do extended trips or a lot of grinding at poker. But, you can count on at least one more report before I wipe out my whole BR and have to get back out there delivering pizzas.
Trip net was +$68,631.
See you next time.
04-17-2014
, 08:17 PM
Nope, not for the 50k I brought in cash. Like for like. I grilled someone a couple of steps up the chain about how this dumb policy could possibly prevent someone from laundering (it can't) and tried to explain that it just sucked for people like me, but eventually I gave up.
Actually, funny story: a few years ago I left something like 50k in a different casino's room safe. Later, sitting on the airplane, I realized what I'd done. I called the hotel, and they retrieved the cash and mailed me a check a few days later. So, this time, I mentioned to the boss lady that I could just try that stunt "and wouldn't you all just end up cutting me a check for the whole thing like I want you to do right now?" She gave me a weird look and suggested that I not do that, but she said they would indeed have to send a check in that case.
Actually, funny story: a few years ago I left something like 50k in a different casino's room safe. Later, sitting on the airplane, I realized what I'd done. I called the hotel, and they retrieved the cash and mailed me a check a few days later. So, this time, I mentioned to the boss lady that I could just try that stunt "and wouldn't you all just end up cutting me a check for the whole thing like I want you to do right now?" She gave me a weird look and suggested that I not do that, but she said they would indeed have to send a check in that case.