My intro here maybe a bit longish, so it you would rather jump to Dave’s essay on Yahtzee, I remind you that DSK is prone to vulgarities in his writing. Gird your loins. This reminds me of the comedian Anthony Jeselnek, who fondly remembers his grandmother reading Huckleberry Finn to him as a boy. He said she did it for two reasons: One, to have quality time with her grandson, and two, so she could use the N-word without being chastised.
I do not gamble. I have gambled in the past. In my twenties, I would go to local horse races in Billings, Montana, an annual fall event. I would bet trifecta or quinella, and as the race ended and if my horses were close, the combination of that and copious quantities of beer produced an excitement in my brain that I later learned was the same sensation given by cocaine. Once I gave up the beer, the desire to bet the ponies left too.
My friend Steve J and I were on our way to a day hike in Red Lodge, and stopped at a small cafe for breakfast. While waiting for our food, I dropped a quarter in a poker machine. My rule was never to risk more than that quarter a day, and bet only winnings thereafter. That particular morning I won $35, and pocketed it and quit. When I told Steve of my good fortune, he said that I had to get back and play some more, as when poker machines pay out, they do so in streaks. That is precisely the recipe for losing at gambling: Keep at it until you run out of money. It will happen, it is inevitable.
There are games of chance, and games of skill. Poker is a game of skill. Think of it this way: Over the course of time, each player who plays often enough will be dealt the same hands. But the winners tend to be just a few players, usually wearing sunglasses. Texas Hold-em has been televised often, and viewers are allowed to see all hands at once, while players see only their own. This has led many to imagine they have skill at the game that they do not possess. I was watching a pro-amateur contest one time, and one of the amateurs was dealt the top hand, two aces in the hole. At a certain point one of the pros said to him “I can read those aces in your eyes.” He did not mean a reflection, but rather he sensed anticipation.
In poker, the best players win consistently by observation of the other players, looking for “tells,” or tendencies to make discernible moves that can be played to advantage. Bad players tend to overplay good hands, and to bluff too frequently.
My one experience in casino gambling happened in 1986 in Reno, where playing blackjack I lost $10 so fast that I could feel a breeze in my wallet. It was not fun, and I never played again.
Gambling is now legal countrywide, and radio and TV are full of ads. The most popular activity is betting on the NFL. I do not do that, have no desire to do that. I once ran a fantasy football league, and noticed that I no longer had an interest in any one team, but in individual players on many teams. Genius!, I thought. The NFL wanted us to watch all televised games, not just our local one. What happened, and again, absence of beer in my life played a role, was that I got bored with football in general, even annoyed with it. I gave up the league, and did not even watch football for years. I now watch only to enjoy the athleticism. As to gambling on sports outcomes, my motto is this: Sports will always disappoint.
Yahtzee, like Farkle, is a game requiring some skill, but less so than poker, as outcomes cannot be read by watching other players, but rather by choices made by individual players after a roll. There are two ways to play these games: Using real dice, and on our handheld electronic devices. Oddly, the hand-helds, as DSK notes, offer wild scores far above anything done by hand. I note that outcomes playing Farkle with my wife while waiting at a restaurant are far against actual odds, too many high scores, and too many Farkles with three dice even as the odds say that that situation should yield 60% positive scores. It seems less than that. The odds of rolling two Farkles in a row are one in 1,574, but it happens far more frequently than that when playing electronically. I don’t mind it all, as the people behind the games want to create excitement. That works for me.
Yahtzee is a game I played growing up, but alone and with family members. I never much cared for it, but DSK below takes it to new levels. Enjoy, and cover your ears.
So You Scored a 700 in Yahtzee, Big Deal!
Yahtzee is a famous old dice game; usually multi-player, but not necessarily so. If you haven’t heard of it, stop here and crawl back under your rock, in your cave, on the moon. According to WikiJunk, the game of Yahtzee sells 50,000,000 units per year – that is hard to believe even if it includes the electronic and on-line versions. Hasbro is the current owner of The Game. It’s been around since 1956, and I’ve been familiar with it since c.1970.
How about a little background with the intricacies?
Actual research shows that even a specifically designed machine cannot consistently and predictably roll dice to a desired outcome.
Vegas crap games REQUIRE one die to hit the spiked back wall – and even THAT prompts a warning that BOTH dice should hit the back wall. You may be asked to give up the dice.
Yahtzee has a shaker cup because a standard household game table has no back wall. The shaking cup provides the randomizing that the diamond back wall accomplishes.
We’ll cover Pros (yes, professionals) later, but their historic scores clearly indicate that there is no observable dice control (manipulation), so just can your bullshit Yuri.
Vegas personnel, and the bettors, dislike jackasses fondling the dice – wasted time (for you to lose more money) – and everyone in the room knows about the extremely unlikely influence any homoerotic manipulation might achieve. Besides, they look like they just got off the Short Bus when that shit is attempted, no matter how earnest the effort may be.
Now us… of course we are different than those Vegas charlatans out to win big (at a fully randomized activity). Primarily the “us” would be me, my brother Jape, and buddy Rich – although friends and family jump in frequently. I may actually be responsible for the practice of Cup Methode (think Methode Champenoise). Various arm actions, hand actions, talking… YEAH, it all helps – just ask the Pros. These now standardized moves have names of course. Shake-of-the-Day, Rip-Cord, Egg-Cracker, Rock-Tumbler, Ferris-Wheel, and finally, the one that I think I am the only one to use – and only for absolute emergencies: The-Great-Spirit. Depending on circumstances, I might speak to the cup respectfully as if addressing Wind In His Hair (Dances with Wolves), Chief Running Dodger (fabricated Ojibwa used originally fishing the Big Lake [with “dodgers”]), or if truly life-or-death: Ten Bears (of Comanche fame and fortune – made more famous in Josey Wales). That’s right, they’re listening just for such a communiqué. Although my dialectal expertise is expansive, I do sometimes struggle with that of the Northern Arapaho (Hun n hanna hoya hanna). I’m probably actually requesting a rancid flipper snack from an Inuit. It’s similar, but distinct from those dimwitted tough guys who have Hanja characters tattooed on their triceps – when translated read “Stupid American” on one arm and “I paid for this” on the other. The intent is sincere however.
Rules for the game of Yahtzee: https://www.hasbro.com/common/instruct/Yahtzee.pdf. We play by the rules… Gramma can fuck off with her 1,200 Gypsy score in the game with the Roma dinosaurs. Speaking of Gypsies, maybe between screeching a few lyrics that was Stevie playing for pyrite coins (someone tip her off that she was born in FUCKING PHOENIX and has NO KNOWN Roma in her ancestral lines). Pure Bullshit! Gypsy my ASS you Khadamned poseur! I ask you, how could Lindsey put up with that shit? Wraith lust is all I can come up with.
Jesus H. Christ… where was I?
Algorithms vary, but the closest to OUR style of play – meaning playing to WIN (not necessarily trying for Yahtzees on every turn) – indicate that a Yahtzee is thrown about every 25+ rolls/innings/turns. This is considering MILLIONS of rolls – but as I said, not a hard-target search. At 13 turns per game, that’s about a Yahtzee every other game – I don’t think that my boys and I meet that estimation. In gaining a Yahtzee, frequently another element of the game goes south – Large Straight or blown Top [bonus]. Similarly, in play, the average score would be about 240 – 245. Not exactly sterling, if you’ve ever played the game. “Trustworthy” electronic scores or InterWeb play goes 8 – 900. Fuck that impersonal rigged Repetitive Stress Disorder training… full physical or piss off. Those methods and means are a novelty, and nothing more – Gamer Cred has no value here.
Long ago a friend of mine, Ken, said that he had a Lifetime Average of 282. He was a bit strange in that he had a large box FULL of his score sheets going back YEARS. The Yahtzee Pro Circuit (yessir) Top 3 players in a DECADE of scoring averaged just 251.9, 247.2 & 244.2!! I kid you not. Sure Ken, whatever you say (zzzzzz). You’d be UNSTOPPABLE! Jape, Rich, and I, under the influence of The Old Demon, and consulting tea leaves, ESTIMATED that our average over our lifetime (50 years of play) might be 250. Maybe 10,000 games en toto. I guess we’re pretty Khadamned good. Our typical games are all over the place – scratching something probably three out of four games, blowing the Top Bonus every other game, and just fucking seemingly random Yahtzee action – it’s a harsh reality indeed – but I speak true.
We REQUIRE a name on the score sheet before proceeding with play, and that unwritten rule is enforced rigidly. It doesn’t matter who or what you claim to be, but if you just opened the game with a nice Yahtzee and someone sees that your sheet is absentis nomen, you will be rebuked sternly, your score will be stricken from the record, and you will be beaten about the head by the Sergeant at Arms with a shillelagh. Crazy assed nicknames are common; hopeful goals, threatening gestures – whatever. I often go by The Old Badger (or its possible variants), a nickname that I acquired from my jealous brother-in-law years back while backpacking in the Big State… my burned-assed skin and remaining hair formed a somewhat darker middle stripe bordered by almost white sides (or the other way around – I can’t fucking remember). Sometimes I use PapaSan when I am missing my [adult] children. Recently Jape has been using Hedgehog – probably a reference to that bristly blue game character who also drinks La Cerveza El Pisso Negro (no really, it’s great, just ask Juan Valdez). Rich still pretends to be The Tower… he’s probably down to 5’4” after dropping the high protein version of Old Style. I think Nephew Matt uses his initials mixed together in a hodgepodge triumvirate; that, or a single large “G” – standing for Gorilla, or Green Bay [Packers], fuck if I know which.
Back many years we (me, brother Jape, buddy Rich, Orty (Rich’s father), Mrs. O, and a few others at times) played a card game called “Rummy Royal” – I think that flimsy vinylette glorified “board” is still sold. Pennies were used – yeah gambling – FUCK OFF Uncle Sam!
When we started playing poker, our stakes had jumped way up to 5₵ minimum. As a group, we didn’t have a pot to piss in… we HATED losing, or even risking a mere $0.50. Even currently, our stakes are a lowly $0.25 minimum and $1 maximum. We still hate risking a call against Ricker’s Seven-Five-Oh bet. $7.50? NO! His inebriated confabulation of $0.75.
It’s with this in mind that I tell you about our stakes in Yahtzee. I think that we have played Yahtzee for money going on 25 years.
|IF you make the Top Bonus – from all players that did not.|
|$0.50||For every Yahtzee scored – from all players that had less (or NONE).|
|$0.75||To the winner – from the first player to scratch. Yeah, you’re dinged for shitty rolling AND THEN pay a penalty to boot. It makes you think before haphazardly ditching something like 1s or 2s.|
|$1.00||For the win – from all players.|
So, pretty low dollars. Come and get me ATF, in my compound.
However, with five or six players rolling and a double-Yahtzee win, that change adds up nicely. A typical game brings home something like $3 – $4. I think that I won $12 in one good game. The IRS SWAT Team is probably planning a civilized raid. We could stop those weenies with harsh language.
|In my so very humble opinion, there are but two reasons why “gambling” is illegal.
1. Social Justice Warriors wish to dictate right and wrong, good and bad, and that which they deem unproductive or risky behavior.
2. The innumerable government stooges can’t get at the casholla – read that as hard fought private fucking earnings.
Brain-dead leeches and a scourge on society; Shanghai them and throw them in the Drink.
We’ve Got a Winner
Back in 2004, on a family vacation high in the mountains near Sequoia N.P., me, Wifey and #1 Son were playing Yahtzee at a campsite picnic table under immense lodge pole pines. I think that that was before #1 Son had tabulated pages of “What If” scores… before realizing how difficult it is to roll a single Yahtzee in each game played.
Anyway, as we played, I became more and more excited. At his 3rd Yahtzee I knew what score might result; then a 4th, and finally a FIFTH! He was playing as Mop Head – a reference to his curtain-like long straight hair. Carefree, casual, nonplussed… it was fun. I was amazed; 720 if I remember correctly.
I don’t think that we kept track of actual scores then, except for that game. Now, we do, loosely; certainly when someone joins the 500-Club. Noteworthy scores of any kind require two or more players – our rule. I think it took Jape a DECADE of serious attempts to get in the club. It took so long that he had a cap made that said “NOT 500 Club” on it. He explained the meaning to a Subway sammich [sic] worker when asked “Huh?” New serious players to our group must wear a duplicate hat while playing until gaining the magic 500 (not really enforced). Eric had his on a couple of weeks ago. No matter the lies on-line, or what your third-cousin twice-removed claims, this is a difficult score to obtain – so many variables trip you up. My 10,000 games say so, and so do honest serious players.
We also note special circumstances, like Jape bagging a 500 in a Khadamned I-40 Rest Area, while hot-boxing a Cuban turd. Or when Jape, already with a 500 possible, opted NOT to go for his LAST target – Large Straight – and instead kept the opening three 5s… then 4, and yes, the fifth to Wild-Card into a 600. (Joker is the official term). Highest losing score: #1 Son’s 512 to my 513; awwwweee heart-breaking; PapaSan kicking his ASS! Highest Force game: Eric 412. Whoa! What in tarnation is “Force” you say?
The Force Game
Our only accepted alternate game (taking place between two sets of three games on a full sheet) requires rolling 1s, 2s, 3s, etc. in Forced order, down the entire score sheet. “Wait” you say, how did he get 400+ with just one Yahtzee slot available? Well, special rule for this game only: any time a player rolls, and scores a five-of-a-kind, it is subsequently marked with a square around the scored number. If then, you roll a Yahtzee at the designated entry, you receive 100 bonus points for those retro Yahtzees. Eric, playing as Doc Fangs (he’s a DDS, and I think that he did the work for Lurch on The Spy Who Loved Me and the hillbilly skattergun fella from Deliverance – I could be wrong) had actually blown the Top Bonus and had low kicker points (3-of-a-kind, 4-of-a-kind & Chance) but had THREE Yahtzees – that’s 250 right there. Average scores barely break a hundo; a buck-thirty can win. YES! The money stakes apply – you silly.
The Big Game
We have now arrived at my play-by-play record game. The interplay went something like what [eventually] follows. I think that this happened in late autumn of 2021 – what really matters is simply how infrequent any really good game occurs.
We had headed over to Rich’s to sip a few brews whilst we burned out a massive ground level stump in his back yard, with possible games to follow – life permitting. I say games because we also play poker, other card games and a few board games.
|Before I go on, I simply must identify my pre-game ritual – many players have such. Recent shower is essential – fucking scalding – at least a brief workout beforehand. Either clean, close shave, or neither and go wild. Trimmed hair; trimmed and filed nails – yes toes as well. You just cannot be fucking around with cuticle bullshit when big bux are on the line. Uniform, of sorts: color coordinated everything (including footwear); must be comfortable. Supplies: coins in some standardized robust or decorative container (Crown Royal sacks are popular); some good cold booze [vodka], lemons, maybe tonic or club. If at Matt’s place, perhaps a fucking extra-large garbage beer as rare as a Squatch sighting. He tallies such things. If at Rich’s, Canadien is likely. Some know-it-all fuck once said: If you look good, you feel good… Karl Lagerfeld or some other strange human from that industry. Maybe it was that grossly over-rated asswipe Deon Sanders: “If you look good, you feel good. If you feel good, you play good. If you play good, they pay good.” Whichever; they speak true, and I follow it – all the way to the psyche ward.|
So, if you see me in a Halston suit on the Stasvred Rcko croquet pitch, or in a brilliant white silk gi on Sensei Ueshiba’s tatami, you’ll know why. However, on this fine day, due to the fire and possible related tasks, I had chosen more modest attire: a Carhartt and Red Wing ensemble. Yes, of course the requisite toilette was conducted.
Ricker was following his latest witch doctor’s rejuvenating plan (certified vitamin-free I think), so when I showed up he and Jape were pretending to enjoy some dark Cajun Bayou Beaujolais – two magnums worth sitting out in the warm 50° air. I had cold Moosehedge [sic]. We did some damage on the stump, on about a half-cord of wood, and also on several bottles. With the fire still burning, we entered the mildly heated garage for some games; no one else had stopped by, so it was just us three.
We mopped the pigeon droppings off the rinky-dink card table and scraped the bear scat from the folding chairs to play Yahtzee. The little thing was rickety as all Hell and only went about 3’ x 3’. I like music. No rational human can deny its power. Accordingly, music should be played at all gaming events – period; full stop. To help Rich complete his recent garage re-hab, Wifey had gifted him a B & O stereo – worth about ten grand on E-Bay. Fucker STILL hadn’t hooked the bitch up, after MONTHS – some antenna issue (zzzzzz). He turned on his piece of shit wind-up toy instead – I think we were receiving Bhopal’s Top 100 broadcasted from one of his shaky neighbors pirating the waves.
With the Piss Red now slurped up, the Tower jumped into the New Old Stool [sic] (fully Kräusened – the healthy recipe) after first snagging one of my Canadiens. Jape was on a spin-the-wheel tour of drinks if I recall correctly. I’m looking at my score sheet now… just like the Pros I spoke of earlier. My scores are all over the place: 184 low and an abysmal 72 in Force.
Just like the occasional wild-dice in Vegas, where the Shooter is allowed to re-roll those declared bad dice, we too allow that – and it happened frequently in the early games on this day – due mainly to the tiny table, but also because of the crazy antics used for spurring on the master class game. You can hardly work up a proper Ferris-Wheel and then drop the bones onto a napkin sized yoga mat – damned things were flying everywhere.
Ricker launched into one game with a Yahtzee, Long Straight, then 24 Sixes… we both slammed into him with fuck that Mr. Waterfall.
|He had gone off the rails one night of shit play – later morphed into gold. Never ending, turn after turn starting with 3-of-a-kind or 4-of-a-kind – Yahtzees flowing from his platinum ass. He crushed us for three games straight. “I got a waterfall of gold over here!”|
Anyway, we had a couple of double-Yahtzee games; I did have high with 393 (blown 4-of-a-kind) until the last game on the sheet. I was playing as Mr. Sir (the spastic camp “director” from the teenage prison rehab camp movie Holes). I almost never discard an opening shake of 3-of-a-kind; some throw away 1s or 2s for higher counters. I held the three 1s and then spun that to a Yahtzee – 50 on the first round – not bad. Both of the guys let out a “grayyyyytt.”
Personally, I like to get rid of the Big Straight ASAP – it’s rough.
Secondly, I like to get rid of fours… for whatever reason, they seem rare – in quantity. Years ago I named them “elusive”; it stuck. Believe it or not, this is borne out by the Pro scores, in that their collected average count of fours on Top were Less than Three (meaning potential Bonus Blowers).
Second round a disappointing three 6s after getting them all on Shake 1: 18 Up Top. Third round I again kept the low 3 deuces, then 4, then second Yahtzee [already]. A collective groan from my friendly cohorts. As Matt might say: “I gotta get that first Yahtzee – then build on it.” I did. Before half-time, I had a couple rounds of miscellaneous shit, then five 5s in one roll – 3rd Yahtzee. Now a 500 is possible, and those two wankers have dawgshit. I consulted the Yahtzee gods to bring it home – I used the Egg-Cracker I think. Four 1s; close, very close. I switched up to the Rock-Tumbler for five 3s – and place it wild on Large Straight (YES!). Just a shake of their heads now at my 4th Yahtzee. A couple more miscellaneous decent rolls then five 5s AGAIN – Yahtzee #5 onto 3-of-a-kind. Whoa!
We’re all a bit quieter now… the possibility of a 700 is right there. Never before seen by us. I have remaining: Small Straight, 4-of-a-kind, 4s and Chance. Next up, I cautiously decide to keep four 3s for 4-of-a-kind (that’s the second-most scratched field). Then heart-break: three dogshit shakes with no 4s – I put 23 on Chance. I’m trying to keep my shit together, but I need real help now; I go with The-Great-Spirit shake and consult Ten Bears. Come on MUTHERFUKKER, give me the Khadamned Straight! Or some such sincere praying. [I might have veered into my native Swahili]. I roll a pair of 4s combined with a Small Straight. I need the Short Straight., but actually zero fours; however, I desperately want the clean game (no scratches), and I have historically blown many late-inning simple Little Straights. We have a somewhat lengthy discussion about the merits of each option – and a nervous sip or two. I go a bit cautious but justified and score the Small Straight. It’s actually done; I still don’t need any 4s on Top (for Bonus), due to my high counters on other numbers, but that is a must for the clean game. Last turn: three fucking nerve-racking shit rolls, but I get ONE 4 (Elusive Fux).
We paused; just stunned.
Seven hundred fourteen – clean.
I have had only TWO 600 games – EVER – but I could see scoring an 8 or 900 – maybe. I had at least two attempts at additional Yahtzees in the game… one die away from higher glory. That would have been SEVEN Yahtzees, and being familiar with Discrete and Combinatorial Mathematics, that is really pushing the odds: more than HALF the rounds would be Yahtzees. These fantastic games are just incredibly rare. So, Uncle Slippers could do it, a THOUSAND – but I would venture: once-per-lifetime… on the Thunder Moon, of a Leap Year, during the passing of the Suicidal Comet.
4 thoughts on “Klausler Chronicles: Yahtzee”
To this day, I still hate losing a single dollar – ridiculous given today’s salaries and expenses, but it’s stuck in my psyche. Hardly gambling, as is commonly understood.
Another thing: I have been in a Las Vegas casino just once – and played but briefly – that was enough. The depravity; the nearly certain loss to come. The patrons who likely could not afford to lose anything. I want no part of that. Where I am currently employed, “Slots” are available at nearly every corner. Shops that are not much more than beverage and snack stores. Strictly blue-collar. These places have a non-stop supply of patrons… I just don’t get it – are they really that stupid?
Finally: I don’t even consider Texas Hold ‘Em Poker. This is because I grew up on “Dealer’s Choice”. 5-Stud; 5-Draw; 7-Stud; Guts; even No Peak – I’m sure you know a million variations on a million games. I wish to play against other hands – not shared cards. Hold ‘Em [generally] seems to be strictly for excellent Liars (OK call it bluffing if you wish). However, you cannot beat a decent card player holding great cards – sunglasses or not – in ANY game. I have played enough to see players with unreal nights of endless good cards – a bluffing opponent will not beat that shit. Hmmm, maybe I just don’t like the flow of that game.
A relative of ours used to gamble at a casino and do Texas Hold-em. He spoke of one night where he bet heavily on a full house, I don’t remember the cards, only to be beaten by four of a kind. He now says that he gave up gambling, not that night, but subsequently, as he came to realize that he just wasn’t very good at it. I have never played that game formally, and only rarely with family or friends. I have played it on my iPad, and there came to realize that I can only win if dealt the right cards. I never bluff (against a computer?) and always bet an ace unless the kicker is weak. I win occasionally, but only enough to realize that with real pros, I’d be a snack lunch.
So the card games we enjoy are Hearts, Screw Your Neighbor, and Team Spades, the latter the most fun as it usually ends after three hands. SYN can go on for hours. But that kind of playing, where you are conversing, dinner is in preparation, and mistakes frequent, is the most fun to me. If I am passing time, I will play Rummy 500 on the iPad, and enjoy it very much as I lose more often than win. It is one game that a computer algorithm works with … I imagine sometimes that the computer knows my hand, but the programmers would black that out. It really is a good player, closely tracking my play. I have come to realize that late in the game, if I am holding two aces or kings, if I discard one, the computer will discard its own, and I get all three. It is not perfect.
Ages ago, when I thought everything was more or less on the level, I read a bio of a Nevada gambler, hoping he’d reveal his system(s) that would keep me in the black at blackjack tables. He didn’t give one as he said all the known systems work. It’s just having the time and stake to wait out the dry spells and knowing when to quit after a productive run.
Far more more interesting, though, was the subterranean world of gamblers, the professionals, infesting the ‘respectable’ Vegas and Tahoe casinos where he plied his trade. There was one Hot Dog Willie, who, according to legend, had gone decades without seeing sunshine, staying up all night to fleece the hometown heroes who had cut their teeth wiping out legions of dads at the local lodge poker tourneys while he lived up to his moniker by putting away a sounder’s worth of hot dogs.
Then there was the author’s claim that he himself was in cahoots with some of the dealers, they dealing him aces at will, just to get back at their bosses. Small amounts, low four figures, and they didn’t even want a kickback.
He went into the history of card counting, one story set at a Caribbean casino after the war, when gambling began to creep out of the shadows and lure the middle class to their financial doom. This casino, like all others at the time, as far as I know, featured single deck blackjack. He describes this particularly odious slob who ate greasy chicken wings, belched and farted, told off color jokes and made the scene largely unpalatable. But he walked away with thousands because everyone from dealer to pit boss was so disgusted they didn’t realize he was gaming them.
Other stories involved the mob eyes and ears watching him, not knowing whether he was a born loser who was addicted to action or a sly fox lining his pockets. The casinos, as you might know, bend over backwards for the losers to keep them enthralled. The regular winners were soon 86’d because it was assumed they were somehow cheating.
He would put his cash in safety deposit boxes and have an extra one holding relatively little as his official box so that the snoops remained ignorant of his stash o’ cash if he thought they were watching him make deposits.
He was an inveterate gambler, even taking part in eating contests for which, ‘natch, he had assorted strategies, depending on the size and pallor of his competition.
Today I realize he was likely a shill for the casinos, hoping dopes like me would read this happy go lucky tale and empty the bank account to take on these fat faced, slow witted jamooks. Fortunately, I never had two nickels to make a spark with and passed through that phase quickly, moving on to stories of art forgers and fantasizing about affable rogues duping the Sûreté while sipping mimosas and getting foot massages under the warm Riviera sun.
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Used to be just riverboat gambling around my area but now there are the electronic gaming machines in bars, restaurants, gas stations.
“Slots Here” signs everywhere. They always show photos of the winning tickets but they never show the losers.