On Gambling

“Look,” the dealer says, “why don’t we make this a lot easier. I’ll take you out back, kick you in the (crotch), take half your money, and you can call it a day.”

There’s a wonderful line from the movie Vegas Vacation, where a ca- sino worker, talking to Clarke Griswold about Clarke’s ongoing losing streak at the tables, offers a great, common-sense solution:

“Look,” the dealer says, “why don’t we make this a lot easier. I’ll take you out back, kick you in the (crotch), take half your money, and you can call it a day.”

Having just returned from the Lake Tahoe area, I can sympathize with Clarke’s dilemma, and I also think that the sarcastic dealer in the movie had the right idea. The pain would be more fleeting, and a least he would have been left with half his money.

Consider Fred, our typical casino denizen. Fred watched a videotape at home that he bought on eBay, which was done by a millionaire ex-gambler who was willing to reveal “all the insider tricks to making a fortune at blackjack.” The gambler neglected to mention that he made his million selling the videotapes, so Fred is pretty sure he’s onto a sure thing. Add to that the free 5-minute blackjack lesson he took in the casino, and he’s totally ready.

Fred settles into a table, where the little sign says $20 a hand. “No problem, I’ll get rich that much quicker.” They’re dealing out of a four-deck shoe, which Fred’s friendly video gambler also neglected to mention during his lecture on how to count cards. “No problem. I’ll just multiply everything by four, so they’ll be 14 jacks, 12 kings, and, well, something like that. I can’t see where it will matter.”

He cashes in a couple of $100 bills, puts out his first twenty bucks, and is delighted to see that his first card is a jack of spades. “Black jack,” he screams with delight, until the dealer reminds him that a single black jack is not a winner, and proceeds to deal him a two to go with his jack. She flips up an ace and a queen herself, wipes the table clear of chips faster than Fred can blink, and moves on to the next hand. Fred draws a 10 and a nine, and calmly asks for a hit. Shaking her head, she flips him a card – another 10 – and Fred watches another twenty bucks head into the dealer’s kitty.

“Time to get serious,” says Fred, and puts five chips in the little circle. He gets a queen and a king this time, and a sympathetic fellow gambler points out that that adds up to 20, and maybe Fred should stay on that, especially since the dealer has a three showing.

Fred takes the advice, and is feeling pretty good when the dealer flips up her bottom card, a two. In rapid-fire motion, she hits that with a four, a five, a two, and another five. “21” she says in a bored voice, and Fred watches another 50 disappear. “Never should have listened to that rookie,” Fred grumbles to himself, casting a disparaging eye at the man next to him who suggested that he stand on his 20.

In the meantime, the cocktail waitress has come by, and Fred has slipped her a $5 chip in exchange for his “free” drink. He tips the dealer another $10 because, well, just because she seems nice, then plays two more hands and his $200 is gone. “That was fun,” he says, undeterred, and heads off to see what his wife Lucinda is up to.

Lucinda, not wanting to do “all that adding stuff”, has hit the slot machines. She slips a $20 bill into a 25-cent machine she likes, based on a hunch that tells her this machine is “just about to pay”. She has faith in her instincts, and is not at all dismayed to watch the twenty disappear in 4 seconds. “Look how close,” she squeals as Fred approaches, pointing to the fact that she lined up two 7s on two different rows.

“If I’d gotten one more 7 in the middle, and if the first 7 was one row lower, and the third 7 was one row higher, I’d have hit the jackpot!” Twenty after twenty follows their cousins into the machine, with those 7s “getting closer all the time.”

Finally, tired of hearing Fred complain that he’s hungry, she grabs a bucket, scoops the quarters from the tray, and is delighted when she has them counted and finds she has $34.50. “I won almost $35,” she chortles, somehow losing track of all the twenties that marched into the little slot to pave the way for this massive windfall. “I’m buying lunch – on their money!”

They move to the snack bar, where each has the same reaction. “Three dollars for hamburger! Why that’s highway robbery! We’re not paying those kinds of prices – we’re on a budget, and it’s not like we’re made of money!”

Contenting themselves with candy from a vending machine, they smile blissfully at each other and head straight back to the tables.

Where’s Clarke and his helpful dealer when you need them?