I sat there @ second base doing my usual bullshitting in my head. Dad sat next to me. He was to my right, and I was trying to stop him from betting 25 bucks a hand. It was hard enough to watch over him and to keep him from blowing his wad too soon while doing my mental arithmatic ; - )
If you play blackjack correctly, you should slowly loose your load over time while having fun with the "noise". The residuals do have their time and place at the table which make us feel like kings on the upswing, yet humbling our ego soon thereafter on the down. However, regressional analysis shows an inverted correlation b/w time and ur scanty bankroll. Unless, there is something to upset the equilibrium, like counting or cheating, then the negative coefficient will retain its integrity. House odds will turn against them by 1-3% depending on time, betting system, and counting method. Or if you're happy with the fact that the House has your ass by .5%, then you'll do fine in life. In other words, dont make stupid decisions and just have fun. Hey Dr. Baltagi, take that!!
I sat there with the deck winding down. The count never got beyond +3 or -5. It was the first deck I had played since descending upon the casino. Ten minutes earlier I had downed two Long Island Iced Teas. I love the ones they make there! Gin, vodka, rum, triple sec, sweet n sour and just a touch of coke to give it color, like tea. This is just part of the bar I was at.
So I sat there wondering about what I was going to eat later, who I was gonna meet while being there for the weekend, and would I ever be with ....... I woke up; the dealer was throwing down the cards. +1, +1, 0, -1, 0, 0, 0, +1 and nothing looked worthwhile, so basic strategy I go. The hands came and went; again, there was nothing spectacular. Five dollar bets and that was it, at least for now.
My mind ran bored.
Should I get that Volvo I saw while driving into town?
Back to reality...dealer has a 6 showing so I'm gonna let him bust.
Am I gonna be worth a damn shooting my new Taurus 24/7?
BTR...dealer is asking if I want insurance...nah.
Why the hell doesnt New Mexico allow alcohol on the gaming floor? Afterall, I just spent $9 for a Long Island! What the hell is Bill Richardson thinking? I cannot stand his liberal ......
BTR...."Son, are you okay?" my Dad asks. "I'm fine," I respond.
Why dont younger folks my age come to gamble as oppose to ski? I'm the youngest guy in here by 20 yrs. Same goes for work, Adoration, my friends......I'm a young pup for where I've been.
BTR.....the count grows into a -10.
The next hand brings me a K, 3.....dealer shows a 4. I double down without hesitation.
"Are you sure you want to do that?" asks the dealer.
"I'm sure," I respond.
"Double down on King, Three," he yells to the pit boss without turning his head. The PB was strolling as usual and took a quick look at our direction. I will not lie; there is a moment of anxiety when they do that.
He pulls the card out and puts it on top of my King Three. Its a 6. "Good hit," the rest in the table respond. "Good hit fella" the dealer responds as he works his way to third base.
I beat the dealer on the hand or he busted, I forget. Had I busted, I would have lost automatically before he even called his own card.
The dealer goes on, "you're not supposed to double down on a hand like that unless you're counting cards. Only guys who count cards would do that. Wow, rarely do I see that...."
"Color me up," I interjected before the dealer could get out another word. "Come on Dad, lets go for another drink." A small grin came from my old man. I wasnt sure if was from knowing he's going to indulge in another Long Island, or the fact that the fruit of his loins just impressed a table full of people while bringing attention from the management.
It was fun, but yes, a small card was on its way out. I made 30 bucks that hand. I knew what was coming up; I knew if I kept it up the pit boss would ask me questions. I know their "looks." It's very unsettling. Anyhow, back to the bar I go. How and the hell my Dad beat me back there, I'll never know. As it turned out, I had to sit five chairs down from him b/c of the women in between. One was making good conversation with Dad.
So I sat there next to one of the younger ladies whose friend was talking to Dad. I said hello like a gentleman. She wasnt attractive. As I turn my head, the bartender makes his way over....
"Let me have a Long Island please."
"Sorry buddy, you've hit your limit," said the bartender without a hint of sympathy for me.
"What?"
"Security just told me that you've had two Long Islands...."
"Are you freakin' serious? I only had two earlier!"
"I know; I've been told not to serve you anymore."
"Are you saying I have to drink water now?" I asked.
"No, but Long Islands have a lot of alcohol......"
"I know they do, thats why I'm ordering one," I interjected.
"You can have any drink you want, just not a Long Island," he said. I momentarily felt like I was in the Garden of Eden listening to the Father give Adam his first no-no.
"Fine, " I said, "give me a Captain and coke."
Half an hour ago, I had given the fucker an enormous tip. Or did my Dad leave the tip? I forget, but either way, his ass owed me some latitude. A minute later he came back with my change, and I kept it! Take that, bartender!
If you play blackjack correctly, you should slowly loose your load over time while having fun with the "noise". The residuals do have their time and place at the table which make us feel like kings on the upswing, yet humbling our ego soon thereafter on the down. However, regressional analysis shows an inverted correlation b/w time and ur scanty bankroll. Unless, there is something to upset the equilibrium, like counting or cheating, then the negative coefficient will retain its integrity. House odds will turn against them by 1-3% depending on time, betting system, and counting method. Or if you're happy with the fact that the House has your ass by .5%, then you'll do fine in life. In other words, dont make stupid decisions and just have fun. Hey Dr. Baltagi, take that!!
I sat there with the deck winding down. The count never got beyond +3 or -5. It was the first deck I had played since descending upon the casino. Ten minutes earlier I had downed two Long Island Iced Teas. I love the ones they make there! Gin, vodka, rum, triple sec, sweet n sour and just a touch of coke to give it color, like tea. This is just part of the bar I was at.
So I sat there wondering about what I was going to eat later, who I was gonna meet while being there for the weekend, and would I ever be with ....... I woke up; the dealer was throwing down the cards. +1, +1, 0, -1, 0, 0, 0, +1 and nothing looked worthwhile, so basic strategy I go. The hands came and went; again, there was nothing spectacular. Five dollar bets and that was it, at least for now.
My mind ran bored.
Should I get that Volvo I saw while driving into town?
Back to reality...dealer has a 6 showing so I'm gonna let him bust.
Am I gonna be worth a damn shooting my new Taurus 24/7?
BTR...dealer is asking if I want insurance...nah.
Why the hell doesnt New Mexico allow alcohol on the gaming floor? Afterall, I just spent $9 for a Long Island! What the hell is Bill Richardson thinking? I cannot stand his liberal ......
BTR...."Son, are you okay?" my Dad asks. "I'm fine," I respond.
Why dont younger folks my age come to gamble as oppose to ski? I'm the youngest guy in here by 20 yrs. Same goes for work, Adoration, my friends......I'm a young pup for where I've been.
BTR.....the count grows into a -10.
The next hand brings me a K, 3.....dealer shows a 4. I double down without hesitation.
"Are you sure you want to do that?" asks the dealer.
"I'm sure," I respond.
"Double down on King, Three," he yells to the pit boss without turning his head. The PB was strolling as usual and took a quick look at our direction. I will not lie; there is a moment of anxiety when they do that.
He pulls the card out and puts it on top of my King Three. Its a 6. "Good hit," the rest in the table respond. "Good hit fella" the dealer responds as he works his way to third base.
I beat the dealer on the hand or he busted, I forget. Had I busted, I would have lost automatically before he even called his own card.
The dealer goes on, "you're not supposed to double down on a hand like that unless you're counting cards. Only guys who count cards would do that. Wow, rarely do I see that...."
"Color me up," I interjected before the dealer could get out another word. "Come on Dad, lets go for another drink." A small grin came from my old man. I wasnt sure if was from knowing he's going to indulge in another Long Island, or the fact that the fruit of his loins just impressed a table full of people while bringing attention from the management.
It was fun, but yes, a small card was on its way out. I made 30 bucks that hand. I knew what was coming up; I knew if I kept it up the pit boss would ask me questions. I know their "looks." It's very unsettling. Anyhow, back to the bar I go. How and the hell my Dad beat me back there, I'll never know. As it turned out, I had to sit five chairs down from him b/c of the women in between. One was making good conversation with Dad.
So I sat there next to one of the younger ladies whose friend was talking to Dad. I said hello like a gentleman. She wasnt attractive. As I turn my head, the bartender makes his way over....
"Let me have a Long Island please."
"Sorry buddy, you've hit your limit," said the bartender without a hint of sympathy for me.
"What?"
"Security just told me that you've had two Long Islands...."
"Are you freakin' serious? I only had two earlier!"
"I know; I've been told not to serve you anymore."
"Are you saying I have to drink water now?" I asked.
"No, but Long Islands have a lot of alcohol......"
"I know they do, thats why I'm ordering one," I interjected.
"You can have any drink you want, just not a Long Island," he said. I momentarily felt like I was in the Garden of Eden listening to the Father give Adam his first no-no.
"Fine, " I said, "give me a Captain and coke."
Half an hour ago, I had given the fucker an enormous tip. Or did my Dad leave the tip? I forget, but either way, his ass owed me some latitude. A minute later he came back with my change, and I kept it! Take that, bartender!
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