STREETWISE Blackjack

Music to My Ears, Part II

When the casino shift manager strolls through, do you observe a military master at work, maneuvering his infantry to different positions to stem the invading forces seeking to plunder his territory? Are the cocktail waitresses wanton waifs willing and waiting for your summons? Are you a casino warrior? An old-fashioned hand-to-hand combat specialist who engages in heroic exercises to loot guarded treasures while the wicked one-eyed giant slumbers? Do these descriptions fit? If they do, might I suggest a different approach. Or, before I do that, can I ask one last question‹Are you a winner?

I don't mean last night, last week, or last casino visit? I'm considering a more long-term area. If you added the money you spent gambling last year or the last several, are you ahead? Do you generally win? Or when you go to a casino, are you still trying to forget that last trip, and the one before. Are you honest enough to add up your wins and losses or is it a figure too monumentally staggering to consider? Too embarrassing to tell anyoneŠ

These are questions worth pondering. My assumption is that if you read this column your have more than a passing interest in gambling, casino games and blackjack. Continuing last week's passages, I believe one must step back and consider the "hows" and "whys" of any endeavor worth pursuing. The greater the level of understanding, the higher the chances of success.

My initial series of provoking questions was to ask you to consider how you perceive casinos and the people who work in those establishments. In my discussions over the telephone with legendary casino expert John, we agreed the warrior model didn't fit either of us. We felt more comfortable with the concept of an artist or a Zen monk, at peace with the world, not seeking to battle but coexist.

I've always felt uncomfortable with those who suggested the way to beat casinos was to slip surreptitiously into their lair, employing camouflage, disguises, armed with a plan of attack to steal the money. Once that feat is accomplished, using great stealth, you would slip from the casino battleground, a spy behind enemy lines, to emerge into the dark of the street, mission accomplished. The use of words stemming from armed conflict is quite intentional‹these are the terms employed by most when writing or describing the gambling experience.

So the reaction of most casinos is paranoic. As you treat the world, so you will get treated‹or, what goes Śround, comes around. And one shouldn't be too surprised when one is unceremoniously booted out of the casino after acting in this fashion.

I am suggesting there is a better approach. What if you were to treat casino personnel as if they were people who are not too dissimilar from yourself? They have bills, concerns, dreams and problems that are probably not too far removed from yours. In other words, they aren't "The Enemy." You don't have to loathe and fear them. You can talk to dealers, pit supervisors and shift managers as real people, one-on-one.

By doing this you remove barriers, walls and help alleviate suspicions. If you share common ground, jokes and small talk, casino personnel regard you less as a threat. You're not a faceless member of a flock of sheep‹you're an individual. You are a player but not nearly the possibly intimidating threat the armed warrior portrays -- you are not a target if there's nothing to swing at!

Realizing this is an entirely new approach for many of you who try to avoid contact with casino personnel at all costs, I suggest you consider the implications. I'm not advocating you tell the dealer when the deck goes positive, nor that you reveal your two or three-level count to the pit clerks or surprise the shift boss with your hard-earned stack of chips. I am stating that the more you help the casino staff see you as a friendly customer, you'll represent less of a menacing presence. With that accomplished, you'll have a better time doing what you enjoy -- playing cards.