It all started with a business trip gone bad. I was visiting a potential customer out in Southern California, trying to sell them some instrumentation for qualifying a product they make. Unfortunately, not only did my product tell them something about theirs that they didn't want to hear, ther product was also the pet project of a very senior guy in this company. This has happened to me many times before. You are in the same position as the high school guidance counselor explaining to the town judge what his daughter has been doing at after-school parties- nothing you say will be accepted and any attempt at logic or reason will only make matters worse. As you might have guessed, this senior guy didn't thank me for showing him something he didn't know about their company's product, no, the idiot cancelled all future meetings and booted me and my partner out.
So here I am with 26 hours to kill. My first two choices are: 1) Head south. There's Tijuana, cheap booze and Adelita's, and a visit to Barona. 2) Head northeast. Las Vegas, twice as far, but I don't have to worry about getting tapped out of games because there's always another one next door. I withdrew a playing stake at Bank of America and chose I-15 northeast. Jean and Primm caught my eye on the way, I fired up my laptop and checked CBJN, nothing quite my style was there so I fought the traffic and headed for Downtown.
My first stop was to be the Western. I checked into one of the nearby chain motels and unpacked my business stuff, took a quick review of the indices and spreads for Downtown SD and walked to the Western. Spreading green which they don't seem used to seeing, but no heat. I was down, way down, then way up, then down agan, you know the drill. Lower class crowd, and this one scummy looking guy was hawking me over my shoulder and taking way too much interest in me and my money. I know it when I see it. I cashed out for around $2K and went to leave, watching out for this guy all the way. Self-defense tip: changes in timing can foil an assault. I staggered out of the Western painfully slowly, playing the part of the drunk dumb tourist, and as soon as I was out of the guy's line of sight I ran like hell. That way, if he follows me out or calls someone to meet me, I won't be where they expect me to be. Left the store up a few units.
Working my way down Fremont Street I was having winning session after winning session playing SD and occasionally DD. I did find a DD carnival game with pen so good I can't imagine it would be worse than the other DD games but I have to run the numbers to be sure. Found an interesting sidebet too that appears very playable and I'm working on that right now. Up about $1K and I finally took a fall at the LVC and gave half of it back. Ended the night back at the Western and gave the rest of it back and then a little bit more, aw heck. What a bad streak of variance I hit at my second Western sitting, dealer dealt himself so many good cards I was suspecting cheat and watching his grip. (Only place I saw a mechanic's grip was at the El Cortez and I was winning there.) I didn't get tapped out of a game all night but did get shuffled up on and moved on when this happened. One thing that struck me as unusual was that at every house I played in, my dealer got a long and pedantic lecture from the floor, while dealing, on not flashing the hole card. I'm not a proficient holecarder (got maybe 2 or 3 all night) so I was wondering what the deal was with that, maybe just the size of my action prompts this behavior?
It gets stranger. The next morning I was in a bit of a hurry to catch my flight back in CA, but I did have time to go back down Fremont Street and write down the pay table of that sidebet I'm working. I'm heading back, and right around where the 7-11 is there's a homeless bum standing on the sidewalk, talking to himself and making these karate-type gestures. I give him the normal bum treatment, no eye contact, and as I walk by he punches me in the face and he walks towards the Experience. He didn't hurt me (not easy to hurt me above the neck) and I didn't turn around to fight. Unless absolutely necessary never fight a bum. They have nothing to lose and you do. Most of those guys carry hepatitis B and a lot carry type C and HIV too so you don't want their blood anywhere near you. There's also a scam where they provoke someone to beat them up, and the next time you see them it's in court, they have a neck brace on and a dozen people swearing they saw you swing first, and a lawyer making you out to be some mean rich guy who beats up homeless people for sport. So I recognized this as a negative EV activity and avoided it. Right down the block was a Metro officer who already got the call; he told me this guy had been walking down the street kicking and punching everyone he met and they were right on him. Unfortunately I didn't have time to go to the PD and swear out a complaint.
What a city- I don't even have to sit down at a BJ table to get beaten up some days! I left bolloxed beaten and bewildered, but got some valuable LV experience and still enjoyed the trip more than I do most losing sessions.
So here I am with 26 hours to kill. My first two choices are: 1) Head south. There's Tijuana, cheap booze and Adelita's, and a visit to Barona. 2) Head northeast. Las Vegas, twice as far, but I don't have to worry about getting tapped out of games because there's always another one next door. I withdrew a playing stake at Bank of America and chose I-15 northeast. Jean and Primm caught my eye on the way, I fired up my laptop and checked CBJN, nothing quite my style was there so I fought the traffic and headed for Downtown.
My first stop was to be the Western. I checked into one of the nearby chain motels and unpacked my business stuff, took a quick review of the indices and spreads for Downtown SD and walked to the Western. Spreading green which they don't seem used to seeing, but no heat. I was down, way down, then way up, then down agan, you know the drill. Lower class crowd, and this one scummy looking guy was hawking me over my shoulder and taking way too much interest in me and my money. I know it when I see it. I cashed out for around $2K and went to leave, watching out for this guy all the way. Self-defense tip: changes in timing can foil an assault. I staggered out of the Western painfully slowly, playing the part of the drunk dumb tourist, and as soon as I was out of the guy's line of sight I ran like hell. That way, if he follows me out or calls someone to meet me, I won't be where they expect me to be. Left the store up a few units.
Working my way down Fremont Street I was having winning session after winning session playing SD and occasionally DD. I did find a DD carnival game with pen so good I can't imagine it would be worse than the other DD games but I have to run the numbers to be sure. Found an interesting sidebet too that appears very playable and I'm working on that right now. Up about $1K and I finally took a fall at the LVC and gave half of it back. Ended the night back at the Western and gave the rest of it back and then a little bit more, aw heck. What a bad streak of variance I hit at my second Western sitting, dealer dealt himself so many good cards I was suspecting cheat and watching his grip. (Only place I saw a mechanic's grip was at the El Cortez and I was winning there.) I didn't get tapped out of a game all night but did get shuffled up on and moved on when this happened. One thing that struck me as unusual was that at every house I played in, my dealer got a long and pedantic lecture from the floor, while dealing, on not flashing the hole card. I'm not a proficient holecarder (got maybe 2 or 3 all night) so I was wondering what the deal was with that, maybe just the size of my action prompts this behavior?
It gets stranger. The next morning I was in a bit of a hurry to catch my flight back in CA, but I did have time to go back down Fremont Street and write down the pay table of that sidebet I'm working. I'm heading back, and right around where the 7-11 is there's a homeless bum standing on the sidewalk, talking to himself and making these karate-type gestures. I give him the normal bum treatment, no eye contact, and as I walk by he punches me in the face and he walks towards the Experience. He didn't hurt me (not easy to hurt me above the neck) and I didn't turn around to fight. Unless absolutely necessary never fight a bum. They have nothing to lose and you do. Most of those guys carry hepatitis B and a lot carry type C and HIV too so you don't want their blood anywhere near you. There's also a scam where they provoke someone to beat them up, and the next time you see them it's in court, they have a neck brace on and a dozen people swearing they saw you swing first, and a lawyer making you out to be some mean rich guy who beats up homeless people for sport. So I recognized this as a negative EV activity and avoided it. Right down the block was a Metro officer who already got the call; he told me this guy had been walking down the street kicking and punching everyone he met and they were right on him. Unfortunately I didn't have time to go to the PD and swear out a complaint.
What a city- I don't even have to sit down at a BJ table to get beaten up some days! I left bolloxed beaten and bewildered, but got some valuable LV experience and still enjoyed the trip more than I do most losing sessions.
