Two Nevada Casino Hustlers in the Outback
"Hey, Al! C'mon over here and take a look at these two old IGT clunkers."
Al was across the room punching up games and looking for advantages. But he walked over and took a look.
"Damn! What are those....like vintage 1980's?"
"Yep. A couple of old 1980's IGT keno clunkers. Check out the retrofit bill acceptors built onto the sides."
"So what's the big deal?" he asked
"Take a look at the five-spot progressive. It's a fifty cent game." The meter was at $257.
"That's a big number ain't it?" he said.
"Yeah. It sure is for a fifty cent game and that payscale."
We were in Shelby, Montana. We had checked into a hotel then scoured the bar/casinos for advantage plays. We didn't find much, maybe three hundred dollars in expectation, and we ran rough on that. We were up a grand total of $78 for the day, but we paid $81 for the hotel room. So we were stuck $3 to the town and were down to the last bar looking for plays. There we were. Staring at two old IGT clunkers with a linked five-spot progressive that was at advantage.
"What's the cost?" Al asked.
"About $160, but here, I'll pinpoint it."
When an AP asks what the cost is he is referring to the loss rate for one running one cycle. I'm a veteran of a lot of keno plays so I know a lot of keno math by heart. I pulled out my pocket calculator. The 3/5 paid 5 and the 4/5 paid 30.
5/11.91 = 41.9815%
30/82.7 = 36.2757%
Add the percentages up, then subtract from 1. The drop was 21.7428%. The frequency of the solid five hit is 1550.57.
1550.57 X 21.7428% X 50 cents = a cost of $168.57 to run one cycle.
"The cost is about $170." I said to Al.
"There's only two machines so we can lock it up. Reckon how fast the meter is?" Al responded.
"On all these old clunkers I'm familiar with it runs at a half percent."
"So let's get to work?" he quipped
"I don't know. It's almost one in the morning. They're gonna be closing up shop pretty soon . We probably shouldn't start this play until in the morning."
"Yeah! You're right. We'll tag it in the morning."
On the way out the door Al asked the bartender what time they opened in the morning. The bartender responded that they opened at 11:00 AM sharp.
"They don't open until 11. That's gonna make us late getting into Cut Bank. How much is that play worth?" Al asked
"It's about a $90 earn."
"Chickenfeed." Al responded "Do you think we oughta just blow it off and head to Cut Bank early?"
"Well, here's the problem, Al. That meter, $257, is way out of whack for fifty a cent game. Those five-spots usually start at a $100 or $125. So how does the meter get to $257 when it runs only half a percent? That's like a gillion cycles. And we know the cost is $170. When we snap the solid five off that meter might reset at like $250. Even is it resets at like $225 or $200 we got a straight through play with a big hourly rate."
"Yeah! You're right! We gotta play if off to see where that meter resets." Al said as we pulled into the hotel parking lot.
To be continued....
The next morning, after breakfast at the truck stop, we pulled up to the little rundown bar at 11:05 AM. We entered the side door.
"Hah ya'll boahs doin'?" we heard as we walked into the dim light.
"Oh No!" I whispered to Al. "Looks like we got us an old Missouri bar room queen on the day shift."
She was straight out of the 1950's....and looked it too. Probably mid sixties. Tall and thin as a rail. Blond bouffant hairdo. She wore more makeup than Tammy Faye Bakker. Al and I are both southern boys, Mississippi and Arkansas. But we've both been out of the south for decades. Neither one of us speaks with a southern accent. That is....unless we want to.
"Maghta fahn, ma'am, maghta fahn. And hah ya'll doin'?" Al said
"I'm maghta fahn masef." She quipped. "What kin ah git yew boahs to drank?"
"Black coffa, ma'am. Maghta fahn mornin'" I said.
"Black coffa fer me tew, ma'am." Al chimed in.
"We was a figurin' ta do sum gamblin', ma'am." I said.
"Well, hep Yosef." She pointed to the machines. "Whur ya'll frum?"
"Missippa, ma'am." I responded
"Erkinsaw, ma'am." Al said
"Ahm frum Texas." She said proudly. "Nace ta meet yew boah's."
Al and I stepped over to the two old IGT clunkers and sat down. At the time the machines in Montana didn't take hundreds so we both pulled out wads of twenties. I stuck one in the bill acceptor. It pulled the bill in, then a few seconds later it spit it out. I turned it around and tried again. No luck. I reached for another twenty and tried it. That one was rejected too. I tried another. It was rejected. Al was having the same problem.
"Ahm sorra, boahs." We heard from behind. It was the bar room queen. "Them machines onla tek fahvs. And they onla tek the ol' fahvs."
I looked over at Al.
"Well, ma'am, do ya happen ta have eny ol' fahv's?"
"Shore dew. Ah got bout fore hunnert in ol' fahvs. Hah many yew boahs want."
"We'll tek all fore hunnert, ma'am."
She brought the bills and we paid her off. I threw the bills down on the table between the machines.
"Those bill acceptors are slower than molasses." I said to Al.
I stuck a five in. It took about 30 seconds for the coins to rack up. I did the obligatory and looked around for a speed control that I knew I wasn't going to find. I punched in five numbers and hit the start button. Boop....boop....boop....booop. The damn game was slow as hell. I looked at my writstwatch and counted games.
"Damn, Al. I'm only getting out 7 games a minute. We're gonna be here all day."
"Yeah, me too. Better hope we don't get stretched out for four or five cycles or we'll be here until next Tuesday."
We were playing along....
"Hey! Hold it! That meter is zinging! It ain't no half percent meter." Al stammered.
"Stop while I clock it."
I hit the start button and the meter flipped a nickel. I hit the start button again and it flipped a nickel. Next game and it put another nickel into the meter.
"Al, this game's got a ten percent meter. Thats explain why the number is so high. I wonder where that meter resets."
"Me, too."
We got back to work. An hour into the play and the meter was up to $297. Two hours into the play and the meter was up to $340. Al and I were going stir crazy over how slow the game played. I looked back at the bar. The bar room queen was standing there looking at us.
Three hours into the play and the meter was up to $377. We had run about a cycle and a half. And we we're getting dropped for a hell of a lot more than 22%. We weren't catching our average on anything. I looked down at the dwindling pile of fives on the table.
"Hey, Al."
"Yeah, what?" Al said dejectedly.
"We're about out of fives. If she can't fish them out of the machines we're gonna have to go to the bank."
"Don't worry. I've got $2000 in fives in the trunk of the car."
I thought for a minute.
"Hey, Al."
"Yeah, what?"
"What the hell are you doing with $2000 in fives in the trunk of your car?"
All of a sudden the screen on Al's machine exploded in colors. He had hit the solid five. The machine automatically spit the ticket out, $393. I looked down at the fives on the table. Three were left. I had $5 in credits. We had won $13.
"You're gonna have to stiff her for a tip."
"Yeah, I know." said Al.
"How'd ya'll boahs do?" she asked as we approached the bar.
"Maghta fahn, ma'am. We wonned a gran total a thirteen dollahs." Al responded.
"Well, ahm suh glad ya'll boah's wun." She said as she cashed the ticket. "Gonna try yer luck agin?"
"No, ma'am. We're a late fer gittin inta Cut Bank."
"Well, ya'll boahs stop in an see us agin."
"We will, ma'am. And ya'll cum tew."
"I get the extra dollar. You got it last time." I said to Al as we climbed in the car.
"Yeah, yeah. Looks like we clipped this town for $10 after expenses. We're a couple of tough ass pros."
"And now it's on to Cut Bank where we oughta be able to clip them folks for just as much."
"Hey! Wait a minute! Did you look to see where that meter reset?" Al asked.
"Yeah, it reset at $100."
"Where does that put the game?"
"It's a little over 1% edge. It worth about $2 an hour. Do you think we ought to stay here and tag it."
"Cut Bank here we come." Said Al as he stomped the gas pedal.
"Hey, Al"
"Yeah, what?"
"What the hell are you doing with $2000 in fives in your trunk?"
I have the same question???????
With a 10% meter you would get a ton of plays on that for sure.Quote: mickeycrimmTHE BAR ROOM QUEEN--Part 2
The next morning, after breakfast at the truck stop, we pulled up to the little rundown bar at 11:05 AM. We entered the side door.
"Hah ya'll boahs doin'?" we heard as we walked into the dim light.
"Oh No!" I whispered to Al. "Looks like we got us an old Missouri bar room queen on the day shift."
She was straight out of the 1950's....and looked it too. Probably mid sixties. Tall and thin as a rail. Blond bouffant hairdo. She wore more makeup than Tammy Faye Bakker. Al and I are both southern boys, Mississippi and Arkansas. But we've both been out of the south for decades. Neither one of us speaks with a southern accent. That is....unless we want to.
"Maghta fahn, ma'am, maghta fahn. And hah ya'll doin'?" Al said
"I'm maghta fahn masef." She quipped. "What kin ah git yew boahs to drank?"
"Black coffa, ma'am. Maghta fahn mornin'" I said.
"Black coffa fer me tew, ma'am." Al chimed in.
"We was a figurin' ta do sum gamblin', ma'am." I said.
"Well, hep Yosef." She pointed to the machines. "Whur ya'll frum?"
"Missippa, ma'am." I responded
"Erkinsaw, ma'am." Al said
"Ahm frum Texas." She said proudly. "Nace ta meet yew boah's."
Al and I stepped over to the two old IGT clunkers and sat down. At the time the machines in Montana didn't take hundreds so we both pulled out wads of twenties. I stuck one in the bill acceptor. It pulled the bill in, then a few seconds later it spit it out. I turned it around and tried again. No luck. I reached for another twenty and tried it. That one was rejected too. I tried another. It was rejected. Al was having the same problem.
"Ahm sorra, boahs." We heard from behind. It was the bar room queen. "Them machines onla tek fahvs. And they onla tek the ol' fahvs."
I looked over at Al.
"Well, ma'am, do ya happen ta have eny ol' fahv's?"
"Shore dew. Ah got bout fore hunnert in ol' fahvs. Hah many yew boahs want."
"We'll tek all fore hunnert, ma'am."
She brought the bills and we paid her off. I threw the bills down on the table between the machines.
"Those bill acceptors are slower than molasses." I said to Al.
I stuck a five in. It took about 30 seconds for the coins to rack up. I did the obligatory and looked around for a speed control that I knew I wasn't going to find. I punched in five numbers and hit the start button. Boop....boop....boop....booop. The damn game was slow as hell. I looked at my writstwatch and counted games.
"Damn, Al. I'm only getting out 7 games a minute. We're gonna be here all day."
"Yeah, me too. Better hope we don't get stretched out for four or five cycles or we'll be here until next Tuesday."
We were playing along....
"Hey! Hold it! That meter is zinging! It ain't no half percent meter." Al stammered.
"Stop while I clock it."
I hit the start button and the meter flipped a nickel. I hit the start button again and it flipped a nickel. Next game and it put another nickel into the meter.
"Al, this game's got a ten percent meter. Thats explain why the number is so high. I wonder where that meter resets."
"Me, too."
We got back to work. An hour into the play and the meter was up to $297. Two hours into the play and the meter was up to $340. Al and I were going stir crazy over how slow the game played. I looked back at the bar. The bar room queen was standing there looking at us.
Three hours into the play and the meter was up to $377. We had run about a cycle and a half. And we we're getting dropped for a hell of a lot more than 22%. We weren't catching our average on anything. I looked down at the dwindling pile of fives on the table.
"Hey, Al."
"Yeah, what?" Al said dejectedly.
"We're about out of fives. If she can't fish them out of the machines we're gonna have to go to the bank."
"Don't worry. I've got $2000 in fives in the trunk of the car."
I thought for a minute.
"Hey, Al."
"Yeah, what?"
"What the hell are you doing with $2000 in fives in the trunk of your car?"
All of a sudden the screen on Al's machine exploded in colors. He had hit the solid five. The machine automatically spit the ticket out, $393. I looked down at the fives on the table. Three were left. I had $5 in credits. We had won $13.
"You're gonna have to stiff her for a tip."
"Yeah, I know." said Al.
"How'd ya'll boahs do?" she asked as we approached the bar.
"Maghta fahn, ma'am. We wonned a gran total a thirteen dollahs." Al responded.
"Well, ahm suh glad ya'll boah's wun." She said as she cashed the ticket. "Gonna try yer luck agin?"
"No, ma'am. We're a late fer gittin inta Cut Bank."
"Well, ya'll boahs stop in an see us agin."
"We will, ma'am. And ya'll cum tew."
"I get the extra dollar. You got it last time." I said to Al as we climbed in the car.
"Yeah, yeah. Looks like we clipped this town for $10 after expenses. We're a couple of tough ass pros."
"And now it's on to Cut Bank where we oughta be able to clip them folks for just as much."
"Hey! Wait a minute! Did you look to see where that meter reset?" Al asked.
"Yeah, it reset at $100."
"Where does that put the game?"
"It's a little over 1% edge. It worth about $2 an hour. Do you think we ought to stay here and tag it."
"Cut Bank here we come." Said Al as he stomped the gas pedal.
"Hey, Al"
"Yeah, what?"
"What the hell are you doing with $2000 in fives in your trunk?"
Quote: AxelWolfWith a 10% meter you would get a ton of plays on that for sure.
We made laps back through Shelby over the next couple of years and picked off some plays. The machines are gone now. They finally got replaced by modern equipment. We were actually relieved when that happened. Playing the damn things at 7 games a minute was liking watching the paint dry.
Quote: speedycrapWhat the hell are you doing with $2000 in fives in your trunk?" I have the same question???????
Al was new to Montana then. He didn't know some of the things you could run into....like cash a $400 ticket in some dive joint and get paid in all fives. I had experienced it quite a bit, but I just stuck all the fives in the machine on the next play wherever I was at. Al was afraid of the bill acceptor filling up and he might lose a play somebow. That's how he wound up with all the fives in his trunk.
Quote: onenickelmiracleI'm curious if you've developed carpal tunnel?
Oh, I get your meaning now. I've heard of video poker pros developing carpel tunnel. I've never had the problem myself. The reason I'm so interested in games per minute is time is money. On a play like I described in this thread 7 games per minute is horrible to me. 1551/7 = 221 minutes or almost four hours average time to hit a five-spot. I have one keno play that plays at 40 games per minute, another that plays at 48 games per minutes, and another that plays at 100 games per minute. And I'm not pounding the button.
I think that some of you might think that 100 games per minute is an outlandish claim. But--with some of today's modern equipment--it's the truth. Summit Gaming makes a machine called a Mega-Plex. I have a spot where two of these slant top machines are side by side. I have a 2.2% edge on a 50 cent five-spot play. It's worth $44 an hour for me to sit there on these two machines.
The trick, when you get a play on these Mega-Plexes, is to put the speed control on super turbo speed, then lay your finger on the start tab (sensor) on the screen, don't use the start button. You never have to move your finger. As long as it's laying on the sensor the game keeps playing. So I'm cranking about 6000 games per hour on each machine and hitting about 8 five-spots per hour.
I can get real bored on a play like this. With keno all the thinking is done up front. There's not a whole lot to think about while you're playing. When I'm playing just one machine I do a lot of reading on the kindle on my android to help pass the time.
Edit: It should read 1.2% edge.
"She's in grave condition." Al responded
"So we have to drop everything?"
"One more phone call."
Al was confirming that his 83 year old mother was going to the hospital in grave condition. And that he might have to drop everything on our roadtrip and fly back to Ohio. When he got enough information about the situation he looked at me and said
"I'm throwing my car in stor and lock and flying back to Ohio."
I had taken the Fort Belknap Shuttle from Great Falls up to Havre. I stripped the town down of all plays over the next couple of days. Al had been fishing in Eureka all summer. He bought a new 2014 Dodge Dart in Whitefish. We had agreed to meet up in Havre. The reason why is because Al and me put down deadly poison....that is, on the casinos. We both perform pretty well on our own, but when we are together hell is coming with us. A casino is nothing but a death ground to us. Just a piece of s--- that needs to be destroyed. And guess what. Him and I both have the smarts.....and the nerves it takes to do such a dastardly deed.
I told Al, don't worry about me, you just fly back to Ohio and take care of your folks. I'll take the bus to Butte, then take the shuttle back up to Great Falls. Al flew out of Billings yesterday. I went to catch the bus today....the bus was sold out. F--- me running. So I'm trapped in Billings. Hey, nobody puts me in a trap. You have to understand what the hell you are dealing with here. I'm and old tramp. Nobody locks me down. No bus? F--- it, I'll hitchhike. Now I'm 61 years old but if you kids don't think I'm capable of thumin' some Interstate road then you are badly mistaken.
At 6 o'clock this morning I walked out on the Interstate at Billings and stuck my thumb out. I was lucky. There was a cloud cover this morning so when the sun rose through the sky it didn't get to hot. I caught a ride to Laurel. So now I was on that on ramp looking for a ride. It took me two hours to catch a ride, just to Park City, maybe only five miles down the freeway. I was stuck in Park City for a couple of hours. But two hours of waiting on some asshole that has the balls to pull over is nothing to me. Not in my lifetime. There is one thing I know about hitchhiking. You may not get picked up in the time frame that you think you should. But, trust me on this one, I have a lot of lifetime experience at it, someone will stop. So I don't chickenshit out because things ain't going my way. You have to stick it out.
Now, this is the thing you have to know about me thumbing down the road today. I left home on July 28th carrying only a $2000 cash bankroll. I'm from the Puggy Pearson school of thought "never carry your entire bankroll to the same party." I was thumbing down the road today with $8500 cash on me. Now how did that happen? It's because I had made $8000 in preceding 16 days but burned off about $1500 to expenses.
Have any of you kind folks ever thumbed an interstate with $8500 in your pockets? I'm laughing my ass off at you because I know damn well that you all don't have the balls. But guess what. Mickey Crimm does....ain't nobody can trap my ass, nobody. It ain't nothing but a thing. Every driver figures you for being a broke ass hitchhiker anyway. They would never suspect. The joke is on them assholes.
So I caught this ride to Columbus, Montana, along I-90. I went down and got a meal at the McDonalds. I called the local hotels to see if I could get a room. That was only a contingency plan in case I couldn't get a ride out of Columbus. All the hotels told me they were sold out. So now it was balls to the walls trying to get a ride to at least Livingston, or maybe Bozeman or Belgrade.
So after I ate I walked back up to the on ramp. It was an uphill walk. I'm not as young as I used to be. I get plum tuckered out compared to myself in the old days. That really pisses me off. I still have a meat cleaver for a brain, but my body just doesn't do the shit that it was capable of in the old days. F--- me running. I'll never cry about it but it goddam sure pisses me off.
The clouds were gone. It's going to 90 degrees out on that on ramp. The cars are passing the world famous Mickey Crimm up, totally disrespecting his ass. But I've been in the trap before. Have faith, brothers and sisters....someone always stops.
This white van pulls into the on ramp. I stick my thumb out. I'm not even noticing. The van pulls over. I go to jump in. The driver is laughing at me. It's Tony, another machine pro that I've known for 7 years. What great timing. I'm back in Great Falls tonight. Back where I belong....home sweet home. Rocky Graziano always said "There's somebody up there that likes me." I don't think that Rocky Graziano has anything on me.
Quote: tringlomanePretty lucky and funny that another machine pro spotted you. Glad you made it back home. Sucks about Al's mom.
Tring, there was no built up trust between Tony and me just because that asshole picked me up hitchikking. Even though he picked me up hitchikking I didn't trust him one damn dime. I had a day pack with a change of clothes, toiletries, and $4500 cash in it. I had $4000 in my pockets. So what am I supposed to do if tony pulls off the highway and hits a joint? Have you ever been paranoid? Am I supposed to get out of the vehicle and walk in with him? Tony is a sharp ass mother fucking machine pro, a sharp ass hustler. Except not sharp, not really. How am I supposed to fade this asshole? You have to remember that I was sitting there with $8500 between my two pockets. I didn't trust him worth a shit. The first joint he hit I said I would sit in the van. He's a machine pro, right?
n he went in the joint I pulled out the $4000 in my pack and stuck it in my pockets. Now you get to kill me if you want the money.
That's the reason he hit a joint, to check the machines. But his ignorant ass didn't really know how to check the machines. Tony is just a not much know pro. Tony is a light weight pro. Tony is a $150 a day pro. That's about as lightweight as is gets. I'm $570 a day pro. That's the difference between Tony and me. I don't think the kind hearted asshole has the potential to be a mother----- like me. He's a lightweight punk.
I don't really think that any of you kind people have a chance of being anything like me. I think I'm the living breathing, the best in the business, the real living breathing, the guy that does it while all you assholes just dream about it.
I think I am, I think I'm tough enough to do it, I think I can live my life being the toughest ass machine pro on the planet earth. I think I'm tough enough, and rough enough. There ain't no chance that you assholes would ever catch me.
Quote: mickeycrimmTring, there was no built up trust between Tony and me just because that asshole picked me up hitchikking. Even though he picked me up hitchikking I didn't trust him one damn dime. I had a day pack with a change of clothes, toiletries, and $4500 cash in it. I had $4000 in my pockets. So what am I supposed to do if tony pulls off the highway and hits a joint? Have you ever been paranoid? Am I supposed to get out of the vehicle and walk in with him? Tony is a sharp ass mother fucking machine pro, a sharp ass hustler. Except not sharp, not really. How am I supposed to fade this asshole? You have to remember that I was sitting there with $8500 between my two pockets. I didn't trust him worth a shit. The first joint he hit I said I would sit in the van. He's a machine pro, right?
n he went in the joint I pulled out the $4000 in my pack and stuck it in my pockets. Now you get to kill me if you want the money.
That's the reason he hit a joint, to check the machines. But his ignorant ass didn't really know how to check the machines. Tony is just a not much know pro. Tony is a light weight pro. Tony is a $150 a day pro. That's about as lightweight as is gets. I'm $570 a day pro. That's the difference between Tony and me. I don't think the kind hearted asshole has the potential to be a mother----- like me. He's a lightweight punk.
I don't really think that any of you kind people have a chance of being anything like me. I think I'm the living breathing, the best in the business, the real living breathing, the guy that does it while all you assholes just dream about it.
I think I am, I think I'm tough enough to do it, I think I can live my life being the toughest ass machine pro on the planet earth. I think I'm tough enough, and rough enough. There ain't no chance that you assholes would ever catch me.
Mickey - Your posts are the BEST! I appreciate and am often humbled by the information and insight you provide on 90% of your posts, but absolutely love the 2:00 a.m. posts after some time with the bottle!
Quote: MidwestAPMickey - Your posts are the BEST! I appreciate and am often humbled by the information and insight you provide on 90% of your posts, but absolutely love the 2:00 a.m. posts after some time with the bottle!
Yeah, I got a little carried away last night, thanks to a big jug of Black Velvet. I like Tony but he is just not much of a machine pro. He makes a fair living in spite of himself. But he believes all the whacky stuff. If he sits down on a progressive because it is positive----and hits a fairly high payout---he will get up and leave the progressive there. He swears to me that the machine is then programmed not to pay out. My response to him is anytime he leaves a machine like that "please put a reserved sign on the machine and call me." He see's patterns in the numbers too. If he see's the wrong pattern he will get up and leave the machine. This is just all goofball stuff that costs him money.
Because he picked me up hitchhiking I got to see his motus operandi when he walks into a casino. I realized right off the bat that he is not much competition. There were certain machines that I would not check for positive situations because I saw that Tony didn't know anything about those plays. I was not about to expose them to him. I think it is a real shame that I couldn't help a guy out that was willing to help me out. But that is how it is with guys on my level. It's a secret damn world.
Quote: mickeycrimmTring, there was no built up trust between Tony and me just because that asshole picked me up hitchikking. Even though he picked me up hitchikking I didn't trust him one damn dime. I had a day pack with a change of clothes, toiletries, and $4500 cash in it. I had $4000 in my pockets. So what am I supposed to do if tony pulls off the highway and hits a joint? Have you ever been paranoid?
Hitting a joint sometimes makes me paranoid too...
Quote: mickeycrimmYeah, I got a little carried away last night, thanks to a big jug of Black Velvet.
Black Velvet, do they still put it in the black tube boxes? When I was kid used them for all kinds of things.
Quote: AcesAndEightsHitting a joint sometimes makes me paranoid too...
I wasn't referring to smoking pot. I was referring to Tony stopping at a bar with machines. I had $4500 in my pack. If I go inside with him, which I did the first time he stopped, and he found a play, he could ask me to spin the play while he goes outside to smoke a cigarette, which would give him an opportunity to rifle though my pack. The second stop he made I stayed in the van. When he got inside I grabbed the money out of the pack and stuffed it in my pockets. Then I no longer worried about being separated from my money. I probably didn't have anything to worry about anyway but an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.
Quote: kenarmanBlack Velvet, do they still put it in the black tube boxes? When I was kid used them for all kinds of things.
I don't know. I buy it by the shot. Lucky for me, or maybe unlucky depending on how you look at it, I live next to a bar that has very cheap whiskey prices. I drink BV for $2 a shot, except on Fridays when it's $1.50 a shot.
Quote: mickeycrimmI wasn't referring to smoking pot. I was referring to Tony stopping at a bar with machines. I had $4500 in my pack. If I go inside with him, which I did the first time he stopped, and he found a play, he could ask me to spin the play while he goes outside to smoke a cigarette, which would give him an opportunity to rifle though my pack. The second stop he made I stayed in the van. When he got inside I grabbed the money out of the pack and stuffed it in my pockets. Then I no longer worried about being separated from my money. I probably didn't have anything to worry about anyway but an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.
I knew what you meant, was just making a joke...although the first time I read it, before I read the rest of the context, I did actually think you were talking about weed.
Quote: AcesAndEightsI knew what you meant, was just making a joke...although the first time I read it, before I read the rest of the context, I did actually think you were talking about weed.
I don't care about my own gambling ass. I really wish I had the time to write a novel about the Crims who arrived here in America in 1735. They have a fascinating history. They were America builders. Not so rich but tough. The generation of them that lived, died, in the Civil War is an American tragedy. So what you ever come from. So what you ever believe. So what you ever are. So what? My ancestors were on the wrong side of history. But they are still my ancestors. I will never forget them.
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