So I'm back from my Vegas trip and tying up some loose ends and stories. Here's one:
I was playing blackjack at the Mirage. I play almost exclusively on one table where the rules are as follows: Double Deck, S17, DAS, no surrender, and resplit aces. This is a kind of infamous table. Another forum member posted about it here: DD, S17 and metaphysical viagra.
Unfortunately, I didn't run into these ladies, but I did have a couple good winning sessions at the game. The game is almost an unspoken challenge to counters: the penetration makes it very hard to beat, but the rules are just about as good as it gets on the strip, and minimums are $25 most of the time.
One morning I wandered down at about 10:30 A.M., and bought in for $400. Two younger guys were already there playing. Now, my spread is just about pathetic: 1-4 units, which won't make me rich, but it's good enough for me, and by no means do I have advanced blackjack skills. One thing I like about this particular game is that the players are generally good. It is a self-selecting blackjack table.
But after a few minutes observing these guys' play, it was all I could do to keep from laughing. First of all, they completely fit the counter stereotype. One guy was an Asian with longish black hair, who did not say and word and always was intensely focused on his game. The other guy was maybe half-Asian/American, but looked similar and had on a t-shirt that said "got gambling?" on it. His betting was almost exactly correlated to the count. Got Gambling? was spreading $25-$250/$300, and he got a blackjack when he had a big bet out. At one point, insurance was offered, and I thought about jokingly saying, "What's the count, boys?" It was just too funny to watch.
Finally, there was a dealer change, and these guys just continued what they were doing, offering no cover at all. A guy in a suit, who I did not recognize, walked out from behind the pit and asked to speak with the guys for a moment. The dealer had no clue what was going on. I said, "I think they are going to be politely asked to leave." I was almost losing it. The suit took the guys back behind the table for five seconds, then brought them back and said, "Please color them up." They colored up and left. The dealer still didn't know what had happened. He thought it was a language issue.
Meanwhile, I continued playing, chatting with the dealer, and getting a few more high counts. I won a few insurance bets, colored up up $175, and left, having had my entertainment for the day.
"Dice, verily, are armed with goads and driving-hooks, deceiving and tormenting, causing grievous woe."
― Rig Veda 10.34.7