I was at a table with three other players, all of us betting the $10 table minimum. Enter the 'tough guy,' who immediately plunks down a $400 bet with four black chips from his pocket. He wins the first bet. After several more bets of the same size, he has lost the initial $400, and a second $400 from his pocket is in the betting circle. The cards are dealt, and he receives a 9,2 with the dealer showing a 5. As the other players make their decisions, I notice him fumbling for his wallet, and my 'advantage player antennae' immediately go up.

Due to the angle that he is holding his wallet at to me, when he opens it I can see about three singles in there, and now I am on red alert.
As the action comes to him, he requests to run to the ATM to come up with the money for a double down, and the dealer calls over the pit. The pit boss explains to him that they can't stop the hand for that purpose, and I realize it's now or never - "I'll cover it" is what I interject, waiting to hear his response rather than proposing any specific arrangement immediately. He says "Ok, how about we go halves" and I immediately agree. After some confusion at the table, with the other players seemingly all wanting to have a say in how the arrangement should be made, the decision is made that a win on the double will result in me getting my $400 back plus $200, while in the event of a loss he will have to repay me $200, presumably from the ATM.
After much ado, with me contributing $200 in green and another $200 in cash to form the double down, the moment is at hand: he asks for the card to be dealt face down, but the pit won't allow it. How I wish they had! ... It is the dreaded slap in the face - the Ace.

When the dealer turns his hole card, he shows a 2 for a total of 7, and the sweat is pouring down. His next card is a 4 for an 11, and the sad feeling of inevitability sets in. But then the miracle 5 appears for a sixteen, and then the monkey finally arrives, right on time. :grin: