Dead Presidents
February 16, 2010
As holidays go, Valentine’s Day is pretty much as silly as they come.
With one exception.
President’s Day.
I’ve been alive for 41 years and I’ve never formally observed either of these “holidays”. The Valentine’s thing is yet another greeting card holiday, and President’s Day is simply a reason to give government employees yet another day off. I’m not sure that either one is cause for celebration. This being the case, I marked both holidays in my own special way.
On Sunday, I celebrated my love of gambling and pizza with … well, gambling and pizza.
Ellis Island Casino
Metro Pizza at Ellis Island has a “2-for-1″ Sunday special, and I consider two large pizzas for under $20 to be a downright bargain. While enduring the one hour wait for the pies, I plugged dollar after dollar into a Double Bonus machine next to the pick-up counter and proceeded to lose my ass. Suffice to say, the pizza was significantly more expensive than twenty dollars. At least I finished off the day with a happy ending. What can I say, my right hand was really appreciative of the extra toppings.
On President’s Day, I celebrated my admiration of George Washington by playing Blackjack at a casino which shall remain nameless (for reasons which may become obvious). Unfortunately, the day did not go quite according to plan. I grabbed a seat at a table with one other gentleman, and proceeded to play.
I should have known that it was going to be a rough session when I soon got scolded by my neighbor for the unforgivable act of standing on 16 verses a dealer 10. Standing on 16 vs. a 10 in a multi-deck game is statistically insignificant (I hit on a dealer 7-8-9-A), and I also have a psychological reason for doing so. Although it is complete nonsense from a probability standpoint, I look at it this way: I am making the dealer beat me.
If I draw a 6+ and bust, I’ve taken myself out of the game before the dealer even takes a card. Even if I do draw a small card, I’m still not guaranteed to win. The fact is, I will almost certainly lose either way. Therefore, instead of kicking my own ass, I sit tight and let the cards, both literally and figuratively, fall where they may. The only exception is if I feel that I have a read on the deck, which almost never happens in shoe games. I stood.
Apparently this didn’t sit well with my table-mate, and he immediately said “You’ve gotta hit that!”
I glanced up at him briefly, and he followed his comment up with “I see we have a newbie at the table!”
“Okay”, I remarked.
The dealer uncovered a 4, and then peeled off a 7.
“See, if you would have taken your card, we both would have won!”, he said somewhat angrily.
As is typical of my playing style, I didn’t speak much to the guy. I didn’t understand his logic, but whatever. I let him mumble and bitch for ten seconds or so, but I really could not care less about him or his issues. Sometimes it’s funny when these people whine. Every now and then I will split tens with these folks at the table just to twist their nipple. They think they’re telling me off or hurting my feelings, oblivious to the fact that I find their outrage kind of amusing.
Now, before I go any further, I should probably mention that this was a $5 table. That’s right. Five dollars. The ghetto game. Also, we were both betting one or two chips per deal.
The high stakes of this game made it quite obvious that my neighbor was a pro. I’m sure he plays 1/2 No Limit with Phil Ivey in the Stratosphere Poker Room all … the … time.
I digress.
If you thought *I* had pissed him off, what came next almost made his head explode.
I do not remember who had exactly what cards. My memory is simply not that great anymore. What I do remember is that I stood on something, and the dealer drew to what I thought was 22. Given that I wasn’t paying stellar attention (shoe requires almost no decision-making and I can play on auto-pilot), it didn’t surprise me all that much when the dealer raked my bet. I figured that I had simply miscounted. It sure as hell wouldn’t be the first time. To be honest, since I play basic strategy on almost every hand, I don’t scrutinize the dealer once I make my decision. The house could probably take me for a small fortune swiping winning bets and I may not notice.
As it turns out, though, my count was not incorrect. The dealer did draw to 22, and my bet was not the only one she took. I know this because the man beside me got very irate and shouted “You busted! Go to the cameras!”
“They aren’t going to go to the cameras for five dollars, Diamond Jim”, I said.
It was at this point that the pit boss arrived, and instead of “going to the camera” … the boss simply had her reverse-deal the cards out of the burn pile. When all was said and done, Dipshit was paid, and I was paid. The only problem was, this did not satisfy Dipshit. He kept going, and going. His behavior is one of the primary reasons that I think alcohol should be regulated more than any street drug in existence.
First, he berated the pit boss for not believing him. “Did you think I was lying? You think I can’t count?” or something to that effect. Then, he gave the dealer a slice of his mind … “If you can’t count to twenty one, you have no business working in a casino!” He worked this angle for 20 seconds or so, and had several more lines, but you get the gist. He made sure the employees knew that he thought they were incompetent. It also put a delay in the game and completely squashed my moment of zen.
After this commotion, I looked up at the dealer who at this point looked like she was on the verge of tears. She was an Asian lady, maybe 40 years old, and probably 90lbs soaking wet. Since she was working the $5 tables and seemed to be incredibly thin-skinned, I figured that this was almost certainly her first week on the job. This, in turn, made me a bit sad. For whatever reason, people assume that I am a raving dickhead simply because I use “bad words”, but this is a weak barometer of personality. Empathy and perceived injustices greatly contribute to my depression and anger toward the world. I ridicule people who deserve it, but even then I do it with some level of tongue-in-cheek and I’m not trying to genuinely hurt their feelings. This guy was just being mean.
After Dipshit had said his peace, I asked to be colored up. When the dealer, with slightly shaky hands, got me squared away … I pushed a more-generous-than-usual tip toward her and told her that she had done a fine job dealing. I explained to her that every dealer I have encountered made mistakes, and that some patrons just belittle others to make themselves feel better. I don’t know if she understood what I was saying, but she nodded and said a simple “thank you”.
I caged out and moved on to greener pastures. I was no longer in a gambling mood. The guy had ruined it for me.
There is nothing worse than the asshole who goes off when the dealers screw up. Dealing cards to complete strangers can often be a nerve-racking experience and dealers make mistakes all the time. You just have to accept it.
Sometimes I witness myself erroneously losing a small bet, and I don’t say anything simply to not disrupt the action, embarrass the dealer, or point a gigantic flashing arrow over my head. I want to relax. I just make up the loss by skipping a round or two of tipping. It all evens out in the end.
Then again, this whole thing may have been a gigantic ploy for the house to get me to feel sorry for the dealer and pony up a big tip. In this town … you never know.
Either way, much like Steve Wynn, I had an asshole-filled President’s Day. Or is that a filled assh … it’s not important.
Slots-A-Fun and McDonald's on The Strip
Hopefully, you had a pleasant “holiday weekend”, and for Christ’s sake — next time you are in town — please give the dealers a break.
Especially at the kiddie tables.
Written by FleaStiff on February 17, 2010 at 12:59 am
So why were the floorperson and the pit boss tolerating this jerk’s behavior.
Would one well timed put-down from you have avoided all this nonsense? At the time he first started to give you advice on how to play you could have said to him “Look FUJODS, the vocabulary here is limited to Hit, Stand, Insurance, DoubleDown and Toke.” (FUJODS = Fx Up Jx Off Dip Sx)
Written by Frank on February 17, 2010 at 1:01 am
From your description, I assume the 4 was the dealer’s down card. Not only would you not, “both won”, MIT next to you can’t figure out that there was no difference to you whatsoever, you lose with 23 just like you did to 21.
Written by Ron from MI on February 17, 2010 at 4:00 am
“There is nothing worse than the asshole who goes off when the dealers screw up. Dealing cards to complete strangers can often be a nerve-racking experience and dealers make mistakes all the time. You just have to accept it.”
True. Very true. I think there are some folks out there, drunk or not, who are just completely delusional freaks who think they have the right to berate dealers simply because they screw up. What the dealer and the pit boss did was correct; the asshole, even though he was a customer, had too much greed in his blood and absolutely no class at all. I’m surprised he wasn’t 86′d from the joint.
These are the same people who blame the third base player when they win in a hand, when in fact it has no effect at all on the game.
Other than that, I’m glad you were generous on the tip you gave her.
Just curious: how much of a tip did you give her, and was she “hot” for her age?
Written by philipj on February 17, 2010 at 2:47 pm
In all these years, I have never sat at a blackjack table, nor craps where there was a jerk playing. Maybe just good luck. I did once change craps positions to get between a couple of guys who were having differences, and that ended any ruffled feathers. And the pit boss got me a drink.
Written by dgenerate on February 17, 2010 at 4:43 pm
In your story you write you play basic strategy. You do not play basic strategy if you stand on six versus ten. By the way the guy in your story was an asshole
Written by Rex on February 17, 2010 at 5:05 pm
The penalty for standing on 16 vs. a dealer 10 is .002%
Over the course of twenty $5 bets, the outcome of standing vs. hitting will be altered by one penny.
From a gambling perspective, this is statistically insignificant. As such, I do not believe that it diverges from basic strategy. It’s a toss-up, and you can call it one way or the other with the statistically same outcome in the long run.
if you have a psychological favorite in this scenario … go with it. It won’t help you, but neither will it hurt you.
You can also employ standing vs. hitting 16 to your benefit if you can get ANY read on the deck, even using a basic +1/-1 type of technique.
Yes, the guy was an asshole who had more self-esteem than counting ability. This happens all the time. Especially, for some reason, at low-limit tables were know-it-all-ness is ever greater than higher limit tables. I cannot explain this phenomenon.
No, I didn’t engage him in a lengthy debate. I am convinced that you cannot “convert” assholes by yelling at them. It may feel good at the time, but it’s not like they are going to have an epiphany and say “you know, you’re right … I’m going to change my ways”.
Futility is a concept that I have accepted.
She was a small, older woman, and while she looked just fine, I don’t imagine she would be considered traditionally “hot”.
I’m one of the few people who do not have an inflated sense of sympathy for attractive women.
Quite the opposite, actually.
FYI: Super-hot women are unlikely to be working $5 Vegas BJ tables.
Written by Duque12 on February 18, 2010 at 4:01 am
Good stuff. While I haven’t acted as bad as the asshole described, I have at times been less the cordial to a dealer or two. Leaving for Vegas March 17 and am going to make a note to not be a prick cuz the cards don’t treat a brother right.
Written by Ken on February 19, 2010 at 2:59 pm
I like to double down on 12 every now and then just to watch all hell break loose!! It’s amazing how upset people get over a piss-ant $5.00 bet!!
Written by Ace on February 20, 2010 at 3:12 pm
I too have been lectured by crusty old farts and fartesses who think my 21 play is preventing them a win. I play mostly basic strategy too but sometimes vary from that slightly on a hunch. It guarantees me an instant Blackjack lesson and it is too fatiguing to argue with them on the finer points of probability and statistics. All they are concerned about is that its my fault they are losing. I either hit and stole their card or didn’t hit and they got a crappy card I should have gotten.
If these Blackjack experts would take a few minutes to think about it, they would realize the game is random enough so that any individual gambler’s play is not enough to influence the outcome for other players over the long run.
If you think it is bad at $5 tables in Vegas, try the $3 tables in Mesquite!
Written by Ron from MI on February 22, 2010 at 4:26 am
“FYI: Super-hot women are unlikely to be working $5 Vegas BJ tables.”
That’s true; but I bet there’s some who get into Asian fetishes, no matter what the age, and consider them “hot.”
Some people are funny……..