I started on Friday night and sometime about 10:00 in the morning on Saturday I went to take a comfort break in the men’s room and happened to break the trance long enough to look into the mirror.
What I saw was not pleasant. My eyes looked like a Texas road map with all the little red lines, and I was wrinkled, unshaven and very rough on all accounts.
It made me tired.
I had played all night without stopping. Because I never drink alcohol while counting cards, I must have drank 20 glasses of orange juice, coffee and club soda.
I had a bad case of Casino Ass and it was all but impossible to sit down anymore.
I had been winning. How much I wasn’t even sure. There is a game we play to keep the amount of money you are winning uncertain to the pit boss. They do know exactly when they do the count, but for short spans it confuses the issue.
It is the safari jacket. It must have ten different pockets, so every time my chip stack gets a little too large I will pocket a handful of green or black chips.
The jacket felt heavy and full so it had to be good. In the early hours I had been on an absolute stone cold run of great cards. The count on the single deck was often +5 or more and I had flooded the table with money.
Time to go. This is the part where the casino realizes you are going to take their money and leave - gets just a little colder in the room.
I went back and asked to be colored up for what was on the table, the Pit Boss asked if I would like to color up the chips in my pockets and I declined.
With a couple of pinks and a fist full of black I went to the cage and began stacking chips.
$23,000 to the good. I couldn’t believe it. What a great run. I returned to the table and tipped the dealers very heavy and the little oriental waitress even heavier - then called for a cab.
Now flush with cash and in the danger zone (where you are subject to give it back), I made a cabbies day and went back to Reno.
The cab dropped me in a little hotel that was once on the south side of the river near downtown.
I had captured the money and safely returned without being tempted to “High Roll” it away.
Now it was time to do what I always do best - translate liquid profit to tangible assets.
I didn’t shave but did wash my face and put on a clean shirt under my safari jacket.
When the cab picked me up I asked him to take me somewhere to buy a used Corvette. He said “sure boss”.
We ended up on Kitski lane driving up and down the road looking into the lots.
It was as you expect. Sitting on the front line, long red and dangerous looking. T tops and that beautiful long look of the early 70’s.
I asked the driver to wait and went inside to the office where the owner and a young helper sit talking.
I asked, politely, if I could test drive the red Corvette.
When he looked at me like I had asked to bum a buck, I recalled that I was not looking my best or even close to what he must envision a sports car buyer to look like.
The gentleman says - “well you know we have lots of people who come in wanting to drive these cars”. I did not let him finish because I have a bit of experience in cutting this type of conversation short. I reached into one of the pockets that held very large sums of money and upon pulling it out I remarked that I was very much looking to buy a nice car this morning.
It all changed. Soon I was signing the papers, a cool $7,500 for the car and tipping the taxi driver.
Time to take a vacation.