STREETWISE BLACKJACK

Life In the Pits

This one is about how you conduct yourself in a casino.. I've recently seen a few displays of behavior I can only characterize as childish demonstrations -- examples of how NOT to comport oneself in a public gaming hall.

I was talking to Greg, a floor supervisor at a major Strip hotel last week when a man strode up to a $10 blackjack table, sat down at one of the middle position seats, and threw a couple of $100 bills on the green felt. He did this with total disregard for anyone else, ignoring the dealer, Michael, in the middle of dispensing cards to the seated players. Obviously a bit inebriated, he grew irritated when the dealer pushed his money back, continuing to pass cards to the players. This rude man looked at Mike and told him, "Stick the act. Take my money bonehead!"

Patiently, Mike smiled, explaining he was in the midst of dealing cards and he'd be happy to change the man's money into chips as soon as that hand was finished. Our unhappy tourist made all other players squirm as he stared at them through the hand until it was finished. One got up and left. Greg murmured to me he gave the guy one more rude comment, then he would be requested to leave.

Let me explain for the uninitiated out there, each casino has its own rules of comportment -- they vary. But most are much more tolerant than almost any other area in the civilized world. They have to be, after all, they are looking to separate you from your money in as friendly a manner as possible. It was Benny Binion who told me once the gambling business is the only one he knows where people come to a casino to willingly surrender their hard-earned cash -‹ you better make 'em feel good while they are losing. In explaining his success, Benny put it this way, "All I've ever done is give 'em good drink, good food and a good gamble."

Most casinos will tolerate rude or extreme behavior, which would get you ejected or arrested most other places because they want as much of your disposable income as they can get -- it's the nature of the business. So after two hands, when our rude tourist snarled he didn't like his cards, and launched them towards the dealer, Greg excused himself and walked over. The floorman gently but firmly pulled one shoulder over toward him from the rear. Smiling, he informed the ugly American he got off to a bad start and was almost finished. One more offensive tantrum and he would be 86'd. On behalf of the players of the world, I thanked Greg for standing up. The other players appreciated his actions; one clapped.

I'm often amazed at the amazing amounts of patience and intestinal fortitude possessed by dealers in the face of behavior that would make most kindergarteners blush. As I've noted before, dealers face the human race under rather adverse conditions -- stumbling drunk, losing money, thought process greatly diminished. There's nothing like a happy table full of winners, everyone having fun, chatting away, dealer getting toked, that's the easy part. No one enjoys losing, and let's be honest -- most people lose. It's not a lot of fun to be around. Next time you're in a casino, watch the interactions. It's a general refresher course in the wide range of human conduct.

Our next few tidbits comes from life around that rarefied world -- the high roller blackjack and baccarat pit. On weekends I try to get out to talk to casino managers, dealers, players and floor supervisors around town to get the latest skinny. This past weekend I watched in wonder as a man turned to a player at a mini-baccarat game and mentioned he had no idea how to play the game. Then he mentioned it again about 15 more times. Fortunately, the player kept his sense of humor and patiently smiled at the foolhardy 50ish tourist. In baccarat, his play wouldn't affect the outcome of the game, just annoy everyone at the table. He appeared to have had a few too many cocktails, but no one was sure it was alcohol responsible for his foolishness.

I wondered out loud if he often spent sums on things in life about which he knew nothing. If someone gave this guy an airplane, would he jump in the cockpit and launch himself?

In any case, after fifteen minutes, or a lifetime of this silliness, his significant other appeared in the form of a truly tipsy woman about his age, displaying her charms and equal lack of snapping synapses. She sat next to him, telling everyone about how much she had been losing. So much so that she went to her hotel room and after sobbing hysterically for a while, consulted her guardian angel. It told her to come back downstairs and hit the ATM for a dime, then return to play. She was about to follow through on her instructions -- after informing everyone she didn't understand how to play the game either -‹ when she knocked the longneck beer over onto the table layout as well as on the man sitting on the other side of her friend/mate and his scorecard.

Let me mention a thing about baccarat. It is an intense game, often played in relative quiet (remember this part) by serious players. In the high roller pit, this reverence is amplified by amounts of money ranging from $100 a hand up to $250,000 in the larger casinos. Unlike blackjack, baccarat players are given scorecards to track hands in any fashion they desire. You can just imagine the excitement breaking out at a blackjack table if you tried this same thing.

Each player has his/her own method of keeping score. During play these cards are considered to be essential. So when the drunken tourist spilled her beer on the player and his card, he was positive this Bud was not for him. He said something like, "Dammit! You just wiped out my scorecard!" She got nervy, yapping she really didn't mean it! That was supposed to cure all ills. Obviously, she had no clue.

After Jason the dealer mopped the suds, the game resumed, now colored by a distinct thick air. If the game was quiet before, it was now punctuated by butterfly sounds of cards lighting on felt, nothing else. At long last, and to everyone's great relief, this dynamic duo finally departed, taking their unfinished longnecks and bad attitudes.

The same evening, Super Bowl Saturday night, the casino packed with people, the busiest weekend other than New Year's Eve, a small army approached the big baccarat table in the high roller pit. They were a well-dressed group of men and women, about 10 total. Swarming the big bac table, most took positions, buying in for several thousand dollars each. Play began innocently enough, but soon enough, from one chair came a thundering roar of "Monkey, Dammit!" He was calling for a picture card, nicknamed "monkey" by baccarat players.

Everyone in every table in the exclusive high roller room, a spacious and luxurious area off the main casino floor, stopped to look. This usually is not a spot welcoming loud auditory bursts or extreme displays. Folks who play in these places customarily tone down their enthusiasm or dismay.

Things returned to normal but the next minute, the same man was bellowing "See I told you it would be Player." He screamed at the top of his lungs on each hand for at least 20 minutes before the verbal deluge stopped. He either ran out of energy or money, or it was time to feed, but when he departed, most nearby folks were envisioning either disembowelment or a clean beheading for his immediate future.

In this case, management really blew one, as he deserved a verbal spanking and should not have been permitted to disrupt the room and all other players, holding everyone hostage to his infantile tactics. They should have backed him off after the first few minutes. Alone, he represents the worst display of general attention-seeking abuse in my many years around casinos.

Naturally this doesn't top the fellow who surely had 18 too many. He was at a blackjack table attempting to figure out his two-card total, when he leaned over and emptied the contents of his digestive system -- a direct hit -- into the rack of chips, splashing everyone around. Needless to say, that ended play at his and a few surrounding tables until the Superfund clean-up crew finished mopping up.