A Craps Holiday In Vegas

A holiday in Vegas. Not your typical story of drunken, drug induced
debauchery. The story begins in L.A. During one of my annual visits
to California I'd arranged to meet two girlfriends at the "Organic
Vegan" restaurant for some dinner. Real Cas. My girlfriend Sari had
arranged to bring a friend of hers who happened to be a psychic.
Nothing to raise eyebrows at, it was LA afterall. Isn't everyone
connected in some form or another?! Dismissing my Canadian
conservative attitude I embraced the possibilities of this alien being
at our table. Naturally, I kept my skepticism in check, secretly
hoping to be wowed by his psychic powers. Let him tell me something
that's going to blow me away, love, money, past, present, future.
Well, did he wow? Not really. He did happen to hit upon a couple of
names which raised an eyebrow or two but nothing necessarily earth
shattering. When he finally got through his predictions on the love
lives of my girlfriends, he looked at me, and matter of factly stated
you're going to meet someone with the intials P.D. Yeah, ok,
whatever.

3 days later, my girlfriend Lisa and I hit the road, take the 15
Freeway and head to Vegas. We arrive, get settled, doll ourselves up
and we're ready to go. First stop, the Wynn Hotel. Lisa has her
heart set on the infamous Buffet and all I wanna do is catch some
Action. I'm what you would call a cautious gambler but I daydream
often about the big wins. The Mega Slot, The Hardway Bets, the
roulette wheel that pays out 35 to 1. In actual fact, I'm a small
timer. I spend a lot of time watching and really am in no financial
position to lose. As we make our way through the hotel, the ever
present ringing and dinging begins, the groans, the yelps, and the
pleadings are heard throughout. As we make our way by the crap tables
the crowds start to thicken. I squeeze my way into a space at the end
of the table. I take the plunge, throw my $100 bill on the table and
discretely take my chips. The table feels like it could be on the
verge of warming up. There's an electricity in the air, lots of
interesting characters milling about and I'm in.

There's a woman rolling the dice, rolling for her man. She's pretty,
all dressed up, quiet, but shy. You can tell she's a novice, which
are often the ones you worry will crap out the fastest, but sometimes
luck shines on them and you're left scratching your head wishing you'd
bet on them. She's rolling, and I can't make a nickel off her. In
fact, i'm down $50 bucks and becoming increasingly unhappy. In all
the confusion and depression, I suddenly realize our shooter is the
girlfriend of P. Diddy one of Hip Hop's largest moguls and he's
standing right beside her, surrounded by his crew of guys, screaming
out numbers, slapping down bills, looking to her to bring him the
money. Then it hits me...the Psychic...P.D. It's destiny. This is
where i'm supposed to be. Right here, right now. But then, the worst
happens, she rolls a 7, craps out and everybody's out. A collective
groan is heard around the table but it's P. Diddy's girlfriend, after
all. You can't make her feel bad. What does he care I think to
myself. Money's no object for him. I'm out $50 bucks and I'm pissed!
This is not a good beginning.

The dealer takes his stick and pushes the dice in front of me. Do we
have a Shooter? I look at the dice, I look at Diddy. I got $50 left
and I don't want to lose. So i say, yeah, i wanna shoot. My heart
starts to beat in my throat. Whatever you do, don't let this table
turn cold. I place my $10 chip on the Pass Line. I'm feeling that Yo
(11). I hit it and everyone gets paid, no sweat. My adrenaline's
kicking in and i'm hoping for a repeat. Not to be. I roll a 9.
That's okay, all is well. The dealers get busy placing bets and
filling the table with chips. The table's full of people and chips,
the gawkers are busy trying to catch a glimpse of Diddy, and I'm busy
trying to stay calm and psyche myself up for a killer roll. I
realize, I gotta make some numbers to earn enough money to play, so i
can savour this table as long as possible. I back up my Pass Line
bet, which of course is the "sensible" thing to do and truthfully, all
i can afford right now. Next roll, an 8. As the saying goes, "So
close, but yet so far". A little encouragement is passed to me. "Come
on Shooter". At the last minute, I throw caution to the wind, and
bet $25 on the "suckers bet", the Field. I don't know what it is
about that Field, i just can't resist it. It calls to me. I roll a
"midnight", double 6's. That pays 3 to 1. I've just pocketed $75
bucks and i'm feeling happy, not to mention, extremely relieved. Now,
i've got a little money to play with, so don't mess up. It's time to
hit some numbers. I hear some encouragement at the end of the table.
It's Diddy. He's wishing me well. You can do it Shooter. I look
right at him and smile. I do my customary pre-roll on the table,
jiggle the dice and give a gentle high air toss to the back wall. I
know i've got it. It's a nine. Halleluyah! I've made the point and
the table's feeling hopeful, getting lively.......One hour, 20 minutes
later, a virtual lifetime in Craps. The table has hit crazy decibals
of excitement. I've rolled so much, i'm dizzy and my cheeks hurt from
grinning. Time has literally stood still. So this is what it's like
to be a celebrity. Sweet. The table loves me, the dealers seem to
love me, and of course Diddy loves me and people are showin me the
love by passing me chips of appreciation. There's a big crazy buzz in
the air. The pit boss is pacing the area with keen attention to the
action on the table. I'm in the zone and I can't lose. This is the
moment you dream of. I know it won't last forever, but for now,
there's literally, nothing like it.

In one hour, 20 minutes, I've made 8 points and whole lot of people
happy. I turned $50 into five grand and crazy money for everyone else
but apart from the windfall, the icing on the cake was the big thank
you from Diddy himself with an invite to join him and his crew to
party poolside at one of his soiree's. That doesn't happen everyday,
or any day for that matter and it was sweet!

Play Baccarat for the First Time

I stroll over to the Baccarat table.  I know I'm an outsider. The area is teaming with Asians buried in thick clouds of smoke.  This is their game.  They're minds are focused on watching the computer screens, recording the latest outcome on their scorecards and calculating whatever in the world they're calculating.  They know.  They understand. Or at least they look like they do.  The women.  They're veterans in this game.  They come to the tables with their designer bags and pull out bricks of money as if they were pullng out lipstick. They're so sure of their system, you're a fool not to follow their lead.

How hard can this game be.  It's a 50/50 thing.  Little do i realize
how  insanely addictive this game becomes.  I pull up a stool, watch
the dealer shuffle, Player / Banker / Tie.  The Winner is the one
closest to 9.  The minimum bet is $50.  These are big league minimums
in my world and costly to be wrong.  I'm tempted to drop my chip on
any old spot but i sit back and wait.  An Asian man, who looks about
1,000, I call him the "Grasshopper", drops his bet.  He goes for
Player and seconds later another guy and two women bet The Player too.
They know.  The dealer declares "no more bets" and pulls the cards
out.  She lifts the Player card first and it's a Queen (otherwise
known as "Monkey"), don't ask me why.  The Banker shows a 2.  Player
shows 5; Banker 9.  Player has 5; Banker 1.  Player gets a 6 and the
group holds their breath in collective excitement and Banker shows a
3.  End of story, Player wins, and they win.  All eyes stare at the
computer screen listing all the previous outcomes and they furiously
record the win on their card and the floodgates have opened and chips
start to stack.  They mean business so don't even think about
interrupting their play.


A guy slides in beside me.  He looks like a biker dude.  He's sporting
an interesting goatee, his arms are covered in tattoos, he wears one
earing, and a black t-shirt which reads rock & roll.  He whips out
$1,500 in $100 dollar bills to the dealer like he's throwing out the
trash.  Who is this guy, and why does he have so much money.  These
are questions, one never utters aloud.  He orders a Black Russian from
the waitress and introduces himself to me.  His name is "Chance", and
would I like a drink.  Um, Okay.  A cursory acknowledgement from the
table takes note of the fact that Chance, is definately not one of
them.  I decide to watch to see how things play out.  Chance drops a
$100 on Banker.  Everyone else has their chips on Player.  He's done
the unthinkable.  He's ventured against the established grain.  Very
bold move.  Cards are pulled.  He loses.  He doesn't flinch. Same bet
but he doubles it.  He loses.  In 2 minutes he's lost $300 and could
care less.  The Asians know better.  He should have followed the
Grasshopper.  Time moves on.  Things are getting tense.  The stacks of
chips are getting high and i'm nervous despite the fact that i'm
barely playing.  Chance is down $800 but you'd never know it.  The man
doesn't show the slightest sign of frustration.  I can't believe it.
Since we're long time friends in the struggle, I lean into him and
whisper, "Chance, bet against yourself.  Whatever you think is going
to happen, go opposite.  Go with the flow of this insane game."  I
can't bear to see the House take another chip of his money.  We decide
to go with the flow and sure enough he starts winning.  The Black
Russians keep flowing and he's tipping big.  For someone so scary
looking, he's really a nice guy with balls of steel when it comes to
betting.  He wins $500 he bets $1000 and K Sara Sara's (Doris Day) the
outcome.  Even when he wins, he's cool as a cucumber.  It's really a
sight to behold.  When the Asians win, they're happy, but knew it all
along.  Their system works.  The louder they scream "Monkey" the more
luck seems to shines on them.


The momentum builds to a crescendo.  There's crazy money on the table
and the table is now 5 players deep with people reaching in trying to
get in on the action.  The odds are with The Banker.  No more bets.
The Player card is flipped.  It's a King.  Banker shows a Jack.  It's
even.  Player shows a 7.  It's not looking good.  Banker flips and all
eyes focused in and you can feel the powers being summoned from
above....it's a 9.  A Natural 9.  Banker wins and it just doesn't get
any better.  The cheers are deafening as the crowd congratulates
themselves in foreign tongues.  Chance is a winner too and he's won
big.  You'd never know it though, the guy barely cracked a smile.



RULES

This long-time favorite of the upper crust and gaming elite is an elegant and easy-to-master game of chance. In Baccarat, two cards are dealt to a Player hand and two to a Banker hand. The goal is to predict which hand will score closest to nine points ñ the Player or the Banker. If youíre not convinced either hand will score closer to nine points, you can bet the two hands will tie. Itís that simple. Go ahead, step behind the velvet ropes into a simple and elegant world of gaming that youíre sure to appreciate.

My Betting Experience Play Blackjack

Mark, my nephew's buddy, age 21, gets a complimentary guest pass to stay in Vegas for 3 nights at the Monte Carlo. He arrives with $200 in his pocket and high hopes to "take the house down" in any way, shape or form. The odyssey begins with all night Poker which immediately goes his way. $200 turns into $3,000 and later $10k. By day 3, after countless hours dedicated to the cause, that $10k soon dwindles down to $3k. How could this happen he wonders? Being the maverick he is, he can't go home knowing he just lost $7k even though he really won over $2k. He decides to pocket $2k, and work his butt off with the remaining $1,000 and try to recoup the previous night's losses. With 3 hours left before his flight departs, he decides to go for the gusto. He moves himself to High Stakes Black Jack where it's just the dealer and him facing off. The bets begin at $200 and quickly escalate to $700 per hand. In 3 hours and a whole lot of luck, the $1,000 gets lifted to $10,000 and the casino just can't do enough for him. Hotel penthouse vouchers are given to him, meals, show tickets, limo to the airport. With great effort he pulls himself away from the table and bounces into the limo on route to John Wayne Airport. As he boards the plane the events of the past 3 days settle in his head. In 3 days and a whole lot of blood, sweat and tears, he turned $200 into $10,000. Luck, skill, the stars up above, whatever it was, he believes he earned it fair and square but most importantly, he intends to do again!