ONLINE GAMBLING AND CASINO GUIDE

Friday was a Sahara day.  When all was said and done, I went to the casino on three separate occasions.

The first trip was to take some sprogs to play in the Sahara Video Arcade. After Circus Circus and The Excalibur … the Sahara is probably one of the better video arcades on The Strip.

My second trip was to hang out with the NASCAR Cafe crowd and check out the huge burrito (not in a gay way).

The third trip was my degenerate gambling trip.

Back in 2000, the Sahara was one of my preferred properties, and has always remained one of my favorites.  With so many casinos to choose from, though … my gambling at this casino trailed off a bit. I am, however, experiencing a resurgence in interest for the place.   Friendly dealers, good drink service, superior odds for The Strip … what’s not to like?

I think I am going to make it a point to spend more time there this year.  Since I am also taking back The Stratosphere, the location is ideal.

Favorite casinos don’t always love you back, though.

In my first hour of gambling, both Craps and Blackjack had been less than kind.  As a matter of fact, they had been downright brutal.

I didn’t come with much, and that little became almost nothing very quickly, so I began the walk of shame to the ATM.  There is nothing more depressing than the ATM walk of shame.  Having to use an ATM in a casino means one of two things.

1)  You didn’t plan ahead, and now you are going to get whacked with a ridiculous ATM Fee.

or

2)  You did plan ahead, lost it all, and will now proceed to lose even more than you had budgeted.

Mine was actually a combination of #1and #2.  I didn’t come with much money, but I was feeling lucky, and figured I would let the house act as my personal banker.

Go ahead and laugh, but judging from the line at the ATM machine, I’m not the only one who set this personal goal.

As I was walking through the pit, I noticed that most of the tables were full … with the exception of the Roulette tables.  Blackjack was packed, Craps was packed … but there was not a single person playing Roulette.  Racing fans obviously don’t like games like Roulette.  They obviously think it’s for snooty French people vacationing in Monte Carlo.

I felt kind of bad for the dealers, or croupiers.  Or whatever you call them.  I’ve already stated that I am not a big Roulette player, but I felt that I had little to lose at this point.

With my remaining chips, I didn’t want to continue playing 48% games.  I wanted to come back with a vengeance.  I looked down at the paltry number of chips remaining in my hand, and slowly counted out 7 chips. Five 5’s and two one’s.

Wow, $27.  If I lived in Ethiopia, I could retire.

Then I got an idea.  When I am hanging out in a casino, and I get an idea … that idea is usually stupid.  This was no exception.

I looked over at the empty Roulette tables, then I looked down at my chips.  The tables.  My chips.

Now, I don’t consider myself to be a superstitious guy, but it was kind of odd that my five 5’s would give me five spins of that wheel.  It was a definite pattern.

Are you beginning to see where I am going with this?

Now, when I use the lord’s name in vain, I often get angry looks.   We are still a very religious nation.  What few people fail to realize, is that I am not taking the son of God’s name in vain.  Years ago, I remember watching a Spanish TV station while standing in line at a bodega in Los Angeles.  The station was tuned to a baseball game. Shortly before it was my turn to checkout, some guy named “Jesus” stepped up to the plate, and hit a home run off the first pitch.  I remember remarking out loud that “Jesus just hit a home run!”, then getting looks of fear from the other patrons.  Apparently I was the only person watching the game.

My superstition got the best of me, however.  Even though I never buy those scratch off lotto tickets … I decided to buy one on the spot because I felt that I had been given a sign.  When you see Jesus hit a home run, something good is going to happen.  I mean, it’s just gotta.

I paid for my merchandise, scratched off my ticket, and won!  It was only about fifty bucks, but a win is a win.

It was on that fateful day that I accepted Jesus as my personal lord and savior.  Not the guy with the long beard that walks on water, but the guy that hits home runs and gives me winning lotto tickets.

To this day, Jesus still speaks to me, and I felt that he was speaking to me last night.

Jesus (the Mexican baseball player, not the deity) was telling me that I should go and bet the number 5.  If you think Jesus is telling you to do something, it’s probably a good idea to do it.

So, I confidently strode up to the table, and placed a single bet on the number 5.  I told her that I was going to bet this same number until I no longer had any chips remaining.  She smiled and said “okay”.  She didn’t seem to give a damn about my strategy, she just seemed happy that someone was at the table.

“I’m not a Roulette snob like these other rednecks”, I said.

The nervous laugh she gave me convinced me that she had no freaking idea what I was talking about.  I’m pretty unfamiliar with Roulette, so I made some kind of error reaching across the table, but I wasn’t taken to the back room and beaten.  After all, this was not The Cannery.

Anyway … money time.

Spin 1 … not 5.

Spin 2 … not 5.

Spin 3 … not 5.

Spin 4 … not 5.

Spin 5 … FIVE!

Holy mother of Moses … Jesus (the Mexican baseball player, not the deity) was right!

I got paid 35:1 on my measly five dollar bet, which came out to $175.  I think.  I didn’t count it, I was just happy to get a pile of chips.   Of course, it had cost me $25 to get that, but still … it’s an 8x overall return.  And it was on the 5th spin.  I knew it!

Screw the ATM.  That would not be necessary. I was rolling with Jesus tonight.  I gave the dealer ten bucks, and took my remaining $167 back to the Blackjack tables where I finally went on one hell of a run.  I saw more naturals in the course of an hour than a plastic surgeon sees in his entire career.

Really, it was a thing of beauty.

The joint was packed, the service was good, and I was winning like I rarely do.  After all was said and done, I ended up walking out of the Sahara with a little more than three times what I had gone in with.  It was my best gambling night in awhile, and I enjoyed the place so much, that I have decided to once again make the Sahara one of my home casinos … as it was ten years ago.

This experience also convinced me of one more thing.

The whole “superstition” ritual is highly underrated.  I think there is something to it after all.

And last but not least, for my good fortune, I would like to take this opportunity to publicly thank Jesus … the best shortstop in all of Tijuana.

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