Being a Smartass Cost Me $50
May 17th, 2013 at 7:39:53 PM
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I have been a smartass for forty-seven years. That would be socially accepatble if I were one hundred years old, but the fact is that I am forty-seven.
Throughout the years, being a smartass has cost me plenty in immaterial ways. While attending second grade at a Catholic elementary school, I received several smacks on the hand by one of many crazy nuns, most notably for putting Alka Seltzer tablets in the holy water basins. The act itself didn’t cause much commotion, until I raised my arms and uttered loudly in the back of church, “Behold, the power of the Lord!” The other kids laughed. Sister Mary What’s Her Face did not. In junior high and high school, being a smartass cost me considerably when pursuing the affections of young ladies. I had made many jokes and cracks at their expense. I thought I was charming and witty like a young Jim Halpert, when in fact, I was mean and obnoxious like a Dwight Schrute. (I sincerely apologize to every girl that I offended from 1978 to 1984–that would be all of them.) As an adult, you’d think that the regulations and the discipline required of armed forces personnel would have made me quit being a smartass while in the Air Force. Not true. I still made smartass remarks from time to time to supervisors. I simply prefaced the comments with a “sir” or “ma’am,” you know, as a sign of respect. My family and friends are OK with me being a smartass because they’ve learned over the years to ignore my antics at will. Plus, most of my family and friends are smartasses themselves, albeit in a tamer manner than me.
Being a wiseguy is a conscious choice. I certainly know how to NOT be a smartass–that clearly distinguishes me from someone who is a “dumbass” or a “jackass.” I choose not to be ordinary or lame. The fun associated with being a smartass has always outweighed the cost. Until last week.
While playing blackjack at a casino in Colorado, I held a hand of A-3 against the dealers eight. Basic strategy called for me to hit, which I did by dragging the cards over the felt toward my body. The dealer gave me a ten, face up on the table. Fourteen. Using basic strategy again, I motioned for another hit. It was a face card. Twenty-four. I busted and lost. Here is where my brain and mouth shifted into smartass gear. In an attempt to be funny, I motioned for a third hit, thinking there was no way that the dealer would give me another card. I had two cards in my hand, plus twenty that was already showing in front of my hand. The sleepy dealer gave me another face card. Thirty-four. Even more busted. The dealer noticed the snafu the same time that I flipped over my cards and exclaimed, “Crap, I was just messin’ with you!” His expression was an equal combination of amusement and anger. He responded, “Hah, hah—you got me.” He then called the pit boss over who was not amused in the least. “Burn it!” she said loudly without lecturing me. The dealer took the face card and tucked it away in the discard pile.
The story takes a dark turn at this point. I was sitting on third base with only one other player at the table. The dealer continued the game by showing a four underneath his eight. He had twelve. The next card was another eight. The dealer totaled twenty. He would’ve busted with a twenty-two if I had not been a smartass moments earlier. The man sitting to my right had a nineteen. This man, who resembled a well-fed and well-connected mafia boss, was not pleased. You should’ve seen the look he gave me—it was the same look a guy once gave me at a bar in Daytona Beach while I was partying with a bunch of friends during Memorial Day weekend. The look came seconds before the guy cold-cocked my face, sending me to the floor with a black eye, because I had made a drunken, smartass comment. Meanwhile, my friends did nothing to help or protect me against the guy who cold-cocked me because they knew I had probably just made a drunken, smartass comment to the guy who had every right to cold-cock me for it seconds later.
After his $25 bet was whisked away, the large blackjack player to my right grumbled and started to stand. Something was gonna happen. I pleaded to the pit boss, “Please don’t make this guy lose because I was a smartass!” No luck. The pit boss said that the card must be burned since it was uncovered in play. The cards could not be backed up. In response, I quickly tossed the other player two $25 chips. One that he lost on the hand, plus another for what he should’ve won. I also quickly apologized with a beet-red face. The man sat down and gave me a sarcastic little smile, obviously still miffed, but satisfied at the turn of events. The incident was over. Being a smartass cost me $50.
Do you think that was the end of my smartassedness? No way. Just yesterday, as I was emerged from a pool after swimming laps with an underwater iPod adapter and waterproof headphones, a guy pointed to my ear and asked, “Do those things work?” I was a little confused by the obvious question, so I responded, “What do you mean?” The guy repeated, “Do those headphones work in water?” I was dumbfounded. He just WATCHED me swim and emerge from the pool wearing waterproof headphones and the iPod adapter strapped to my arm. My entire body was dripping wet. I answered, “No. They don’t work,” then rolled my eyes and walked away. Whatever the cost, being a smartass is way better than being a dumbass.
Glen Wiggy
Author of "1536 Free Waters and Other Blackjack Endeavors--Finding Profit and Humor in Card-Counting"
Throughout the years, being a smartass has cost me plenty in immaterial ways. While attending second grade at a Catholic elementary school, I received several smacks on the hand by one of many crazy nuns, most notably for putting Alka Seltzer tablets in the holy water basins. The act itself didn’t cause much commotion, until I raised my arms and uttered loudly in the back of church, “Behold, the power of the Lord!” The other kids laughed. Sister Mary What’s Her Face did not. In junior high and high school, being a smartass cost me considerably when pursuing the affections of young ladies. I had made many jokes and cracks at their expense. I thought I was charming and witty like a young Jim Halpert, when in fact, I was mean and obnoxious like a Dwight Schrute. (I sincerely apologize to every girl that I offended from 1978 to 1984–that would be all of them.) As an adult, you’d think that the regulations and the discipline required of armed forces personnel would have made me quit being a smartass while in the Air Force. Not true. I still made smartass remarks from time to time to supervisors. I simply prefaced the comments with a “sir” or “ma’am,” you know, as a sign of respect. My family and friends are OK with me being a smartass because they’ve learned over the years to ignore my antics at will. Plus, most of my family and friends are smartasses themselves, albeit in a tamer manner than me.
Being a wiseguy is a conscious choice. I certainly know how to NOT be a smartass–that clearly distinguishes me from someone who is a “dumbass” or a “jackass.” I choose not to be ordinary or lame. The fun associated with being a smartass has always outweighed the cost. Until last week.
While playing blackjack at a casino in Colorado, I held a hand of A-3 against the dealers eight. Basic strategy called for me to hit, which I did by dragging the cards over the felt toward my body. The dealer gave me a ten, face up on the table. Fourteen. Using basic strategy again, I motioned for another hit. It was a face card. Twenty-four. I busted and lost. Here is where my brain and mouth shifted into smartass gear. In an attempt to be funny, I motioned for a third hit, thinking there was no way that the dealer would give me another card. I had two cards in my hand, plus twenty that was already showing in front of my hand. The sleepy dealer gave me another face card. Thirty-four. Even more busted. The dealer noticed the snafu the same time that I flipped over my cards and exclaimed, “Crap, I was just messin’ with you!” His expression was an equal combination of amusement and anger. He responded, “Hah, hah—you got me.” He then called the pit boss over who was not amused in the least. “Burn it!” she said loudly without lecturing me. The dealer took the face card and tucked it away in the discard pile.
The story takes a dark turn at this point. I was sitting on third base with only one other player at the table. The dealer continued the game by showing a four underneath his eight. He had twelve. The next card was another eight. The dealer totaled twenty. He would’ve busted with a twenty-two if I had not been a smartass moments earlier. The man sitting to my right had a nineteen. This man, who resembled a well-fed and well-connected mafia boss, was not pleased. You should’ve seen the look he gave me—it was the same look a guy once gave me at a bar in Daytona Beach while I was partying with a bunch of friends during Memorial Day weekend. The look came seconds before the guy cold-cocked my face, sending me to the floor with a black eye, because I had made a drunken, smartass comment. Meanwhile, my friends did nothing to help or protect me against the guy who cold-cocked me because they knew I had probably just made a drunken, smartass comment to the guy who had every right to cold-cock me for it seconds later.
After his $25 bet was whisked away, the large blackjack player to my right grumbled and started to stand. Something was gonna happen. I pleaded to the pit boss, “Please don’t make this guy lose because I was a smartass!” No luck. The pit boss said that the card must be burned since it was uncovered in play. The cards could not be backed up. In response, I quickly tossed the other player two $25 chips. One that he lost on the hand, plus another for what he should’ve won. I also quickly apologized with a beet-red face. The man sat down and gave me a sarcastic little smile, obviously still miffed, but satisfied at the turn of events. The incident was over. Being a smartass cost me $50.
Do you think that was the end of my smartassedness? No way. Just yesterday, as I was emerged from a pool after swimming laps with an underwater iPod adapter and waterproof headphones, a guy pointed to my ear and asked, “Do those things work?” I was a little confused by the obvious question, so I responded, “What do you mean?” The guy repeated, “Do those headphones work in water?” I was dumbfounded. He just WATCHED me swim and emerge from the pool wearing waterproof headphones and the iPod adapter strapped to my arm. My entire body was dripping wet. I answered, “No. They don’t work,” then rolled my eyes and walked away. Whatever the cost, being a smartass is way better than being a dumbass.
Glen Wiggy
Author of "1536 Free Waters and Other Blackjack Endeavors--Finding Profit and Humor in Card-Counting"
May 17th, 2013 at 7:53:30 PM
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That made me laugh. Thank you. I am a smartass too.
May 17th, 2013 at 7:54:58 PM
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Quote: glenwiggyI answered, �No. They don�t work,� then rolled my eyes and walked away. Whatever the cost, being a smartass is way better than being a dumbass.
Here's a lesson for you. He was asking in a rhetorical
conversational way if they worked. Like somebody
saying 'nice day, huh.' They can see its a nice day,
they aren't asking you if its nice, they aren't asking
for verification. They're just making conversation.
You're not a smart ass, you're just a common troublemaker.
"It's not called gambling if the math is on your side."
May 17th, 2013 at 7:57:26 PM
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You did the right thing tossing the 2 chips, Some may not have done that.
I didn't know underwater headphones existed. That's pretty neat. Are they actually earphones, small enough to fit in ear or headphones. I gotta imagine they fit in the ear which I find uncomfortable. I prefer the ones that sit just outside the ear canal and are held with ear hooks. Anyway, how's the sound? I listen while I bike and walk, but never considered swimming as an activity to listen to music to.
I didn't know underwater headphones existed. That's pretty neat. Are they actually earphones, small enough to fit in ear or headphones. I gotta imagine they fit in the ear which I find uncomfortable. I prefer the ones that sit just outside the ear canal and are held with ear hooks. Anyway, how's the sound? I listen while I bike and walk, but never considered swimming as an activity to listen to music to.
When somebody doesn't believe me, I could care less. Some get totally bent out of shape when not believed. Weird. I believe very little on all forums
May 17th, 2013 at 8:08:57 PM
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What a great story!! Well written and worth YOUR $50. LOL
May 18th, 2013 at 12:01:20 PM
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Quote: EvenBobI answered, �No. They don�t work,�
Bob, it looks like you take your text to some software [where at least this one time it got converted from ordinary text] then you paste it in again.
So you are busted for the 'short lines' thing you do, it comes from that, right, admit it! [g]
Ummm, I'm guessing you like some auto-save feature.
the next time Dame Fortune toys with your heart, your soul and your wallet, raise your glass and praise her thus: “Thanks for nothing, you cold-hearted, evil, damnable, nefarious, low-life, malicious monster from Hell!” She is, after all, stone deaf. ... Arnold Snyder
May 18th, 2013 at 12:37:50 PM
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Enjoyed the story and well written Glen. Well done.
ZCore13
ZCore13
I am an employee of a Casino. Former Table Games Director,, current Pit Supervisor. All the personal opinions I post are my own and do not represent the opinions of the Casino or Tribe that I work for.
May 18th, 2013 at 7:14:00 PM
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Quote: terapinedYou did the right thing tossing the 2 chips, Some may not have done that.
I didn't know underwater headphones existed. That's pretty neat. Are they actually earphones, small enough to fit in ear or headphones. I gotta imagine they fit in the ear which I find uncomfortable. I prefer the ones that sit just outside the ear canal and are held with ear hooks. Anyway, how's the sound? I listen while I bike and walk, but never considered swimming as an activity to listen to music to.
The earbuds fit in the ear. The sound is relatively good if the buds fit snugly. Check out a company online called H20 Audio for many waterproof sound products. Glen
May 19th, 2013 at 3:42:27 AM
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The dealer should not have dealt a card to a hand that had obviously broken. For that reason I would not have given the other player anything. That's what supervisors are for.
Many people, especially ignorant people, want to punish you for speaking the truth. - Mahatma Ghandi
May 19th, 2013 at 6:47:40 AM
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Great story. Thanks for sharing.
aahigh.com
May 19th, 2013 at 8:24:24 AM
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I wouldn't have tossed two cents!!Quote: terapinedYou did the right thing tossing the 2 chips, Some may not have done that.
May 19th, 2013 at 1:31:54 PM
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The guy was gonna kick his ass for fifty bucks!Quote: FleaStiffI wouldn't have tossed two cents!!
August 5th, 2013 at 5:29:43 PM
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Forgive me for bumping an oldish thread.
Very amusing story, but I think your title is way wrong. It should be called "An inattentive dealer and a terrible pit boss cost me $50."
First of all, any dealer who has ever dealt single or double deck Blackjack is acutely aware of this "joke" and should never ever fall for it. The initial screw up was 99% the dealer's fault, not yours.
Now on to the pit boss. I don't know which is worse, her complete lack of customer service skills or her ignorance of the regulations she is there to enforce.
Colorado Gaming Rule 47.1-828 Section 8 states:
By rule, the errant face card should have been given to the dealer. Even ignoring the fact that she completely blew the call, a player should never lose money as the result of a dealer mistake. At the very least the player on first base should have been granted a push. A pretty awful display of pit bossing at every turn, imo.
Very amusing story, but I think your title is way wrong. It should be called "An inattentive dealer and a terrible pit boss cost me $50."
First of all, any dealer who has ever dealt single or double deck Blackjack is acutely aware of this "joke" and should never ever fall for it. The initial screw up was 99% the dealer's fault, not yours.
Now on to the pit boss. I don't know which is worse, her complete lack of customer service skills or her ignorance of the regulations she is there to enforce.
Colorado Gaming Rule 47.1-828 Section 8 states:
Quote:After the initial two cards have been dealt to each player and a card is drawn in error and
exposed to the players, the card shall not be dealt to the players. If a player requests a third card,
the exposed card will be burned and the player will receive the next unexposed card. If no player
requests a third card, the exposed card will be used by the dealer if the dealer is required by rule
to take a card. If the dealer is not required to take a card the exposed card will be burned.
By rule, the errant face card should have been given to the dealer. Even ignoring the fact that she completely blew the call, a player should never lose money as the result of a dealer mistake. At the very least the player on first base should have been granted a push. A pretty awful display of pit bossing at every turn, imo.
August 5th, 2013 at 6:02:59 PM
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What a total waste getting a free card on 20, then finding out it cost you money.
I am a robot.
August 5th, 2013 at 7:52:05 PM
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I wouldn't have given him a dime. Stuff happens at the table, that's just how it goes. You could have pulled a 6 from the guy causing him to win. I would have just stayed seated and continued to play at the table. What could he really do to you when you are in a casino?
August 5th, 2013 at 10:37:29 PM
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Quote: jonI wouldn't have given him a dime. Stuff happens at the table, that's just how it goes. You could have pulled a 6 from the guy causing him to win. I would have just stayed seated and continued to play at the table. What could he really do to you when you are in a casino?
A story at Caesars goes like this. A guy was betting table max and saw that a guy in first base was playing bad. He had a green chip up against the dealer 6 showing. He had a point total of 14. The guy betting the max offered him $50 for his hand. The guy in first based refused, and took a hit. The guy betting table max doubled down. You know what happened next. Everyone lost at the table.
The guy who bet the table max stood up and cold cocked the guy in first base and walked out. This story was told to me by the pit boss at Caesars.
This is what could happen.
Edward Snowden is not the criminal, the government is for violating the constitution!
August 6th, 2013 at 1:09:01 AM
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I once saw a guy dump the contents of an ashtray on the head of an older woman after she played "wrong".
Many people, especially ignorant people, want to punish you for speaking the truth. - Mahatma Ghandi
August 7th, 2013 at 8:37:54 PM
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Experienced a couple of these "gems" this year.
1) Guy in the last position has Hard 13 vs Dealer 6. DOUBLES DOWN!!! And gets a 7! Dealer of course has 16 and catches a 4! First base throws an empty water bottle at the dolt, picks up his chips and storms off, followed by a stream of obscenities.
2) Drunk Tourist has A-9 vs Dealer 2 and doubles down to get a 6. Dealer turns up a 10 and catches a 9! Tourist goes "Why didn't chu' bust??"
3) I'm at a table with a Positive count and press to $150, I get a 20 but the lady to my right(who is betting $15) has 14(8 & 6) against dealer 3 and says "Hit!" Only to receive a Jack... I glare at them with the "Are you serious?" look. Dealer turns over an 8, gets a 7 and pays me 6 green. I ask the dealer to break one of the Greens into some red. I toss the lady 3 red chips and say "I appreciate the sacrifice, but just like your bets, try and keep the crazy to a minimum!" and darted for the cashier.
1) Guy in the last position has Hard 13 vs Dealer 6. DOUBLES DOWN!!! And gets a 7! Dealer of course has 16 and catches a 4! First base throws an empty water bottle at the dolt, picks up his chips and storms off, followed by a stream of obscenities.
2) Drunk Tourist has A-9 vs Dealer 2 and doubles down to get a 6. Dealer turns up a 10 and catches a 9! Tourist goes "Why didn't chu' bust??"
3) I'm at a table with a Positive count and press to $150, I get a 20 but the lady to my right(who is betting $15) has 14(8 & 6) against dealer 3 and says "Hit!" Only to receive a Jack... I glare at them with the "Are you serious?" look. Dealer turns over an 8, gets a 7 and pays me 6 green. I ask the dealer to break one of the Greens into some red. I toss the lady 3 red chips and say "I appreciate the sacrifice, but just like your bets, try and keep the crazy to a minimum!" and darted for the cashier.
August 7th, 2013 at 8:47:57 PM
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DUHHIIIIIIIII HEARD THAT!
