Well, I’m an Idiot. Part 2.

Alright, fine, so it’s really part 1229465239259085, but for those that don’t know me as well… let’s just pretend it’s part two.

A while ago I talked about the benefits of having a job, and I originally thought I covered everything. But there are a couple of things I forgot; both for the good and the bad.

For the good:

You officially have your own money to blow at a casino.

For the bad:

You officially have your own money to blow at a casino.

Fire and foremost, let me just say: gambling is fun. It’s a cool way to spend time, and it’s an exhilarating feeling to be playing a game with so much on the line.

You also get fed free drinks, and there’s nothing better when you’re on a heater and you get to celebrate with a bunch of random strangers who are also benefiting from the same game.

That’s the good part about it. Unfortunately for us common folk, that rarely happens. Normally, it’s the polar opposite. You more commonly find yourself sitting at a blackjack table, completely demoralized, with your head in your palm while thinking, “How the hell did I get to this point?”

That was me this weekend.

Not that I didn’t have a great time in Atlantic City, but, it would have been a much more enjoyable experience had I not blown a ton of money.

First of all, fuck roulette. I’m never playing that game again. At least when I lose in blackjack, I can feel okay about it, knowing that I did everything in my power to win. I just didn’t get the cards. With roulette, however, it’s 100% chance. There’s no rhyme or reason to it and it’s a shitty way to lose your money.

I always thought that I could place a bet, lose, place a slightly larger bet, lose, again place a slightly larger bet, and so on and so forth until I finally won one. The odds say that you have to win sometime, right? The problem with this strategy is that I’m not rich. When all of a sudden your deficit hits triple digits, I’m not really in any position to be dropping $200 on a single bet.

At least when you lose money in Vegas, you can just shrug it off and say, “That’s Vegas for ya.” Saying “That’s Atlantic City for ya,” doesn’t exactly sound quite as reassuring.

Oh well, lesson learned. At least I did it now rather than 10-15 years from now when I actually do have a lot of money… hopefully.

Oh, and I know that there are certain table etiquettes that one must adhere to at the blackjack table, which is fine, you don’t want one idiot screwing the table up for everyone else, but… shit, if I want to ignore “the book” every now and then, let me do it. I don’t need some bitch at the opposite side of the table shaking her head at me and trying to teach me how to play.

During one particular hand, I stayed when I probably shouldn’t have. The bitch at the end of the table ended up losing with her hand, and I won with mine. Then she starts telling me that I needed to hit there, because you have to go by the book.

First of all, fuck you. I won and I don’t give a shit that you lost. Secondly, what the hell “book” are you referring to? The Bible? Harry Potter?

I didn’t realize that there is a holy blackjack book that one must abide by at all costs. That’s just dumb superstitious shit. Then she says that she’s been “playing this game for 10 years.”

Wow. Good for you. I sincerely hope, more than anything, that when I’m in my 30s, that my claim to fame is not that I have been playing the game of Blackjack for 10 years.

Oh well.

That’s Atlantic City for ya.

 

P.S. Leslie Nielsen died today. It’s a sad day, but also a day to reflect in his great life and career. He made millions of people laugh, and that’s more than most people can ever say. RIP.

 

Classic.

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