Tip your dealer

I just got back from Las Vegas and I did well!

I won $900 yesterday which is less impressive when you consider the initial investment of $500. However, I lost almost everything on Saturday and then made it all back and then some on Sunday.

I could claim that talent was steering the ship. I think I actually made that claim after about 30 gin and tonics. I could claim that hitting on 18 with a 6 bust card was just the kind of chutzpah that would win the day. No. My dealers cheated for me repeatedly.

The dealers at the Palms Casino have a little mirror on their tables so they can check the status of their cards. They can see if their down card is a 10, a face card or an ace so that if they have blackjack, they can end the hand.

Thank you Jackie for not letting me stand on eighteen because you knew you had twenty. Thank you Andie for developing a loss of hearing when I asked for a hit that would have busted me. Thank you to Mia for splitting my cards and doubling down without my concent and always winning my drunk ass money. The tips, like the drinks, will keep on coming.

Oh, and Richard. You took all my money on Saturday. You laughed at none of my jokes. Your contempt for the entire table out shinned the blinking neon over head. Despite looking like Chris Elliot, you took all the fun out of blackjack. No tip for you cabin boy.