Automatic Monkey
Banned
Not to be depressing or dramatic, just a warning to to rookies about how extreme swings can be and how horrifying losses can be.
This past week I was on a BJ road trip. It went acceptably well, short of trip EV (mostly due to weather and crowded conditions) but I fought off the dealers and the heat and had a reasonably profitable time. (My nicest hand was a spectacular one that has a 1 out of 281775 chance of occurring in this particular game. Shhh... that's all the info you need to determine where I was playing!)
Tonight I walked into a New Jersey store, with a nice fat playing stake and anticipation of the usual slow grind and typical modest profits. Four hours later, I walked out crushed and bankrupt. Down 208 units, almost exactly twice my winnings of the previous week.
It started with a weird play. Very high count, the civilian to my right and I had the same soft hand and I had a max bet on it while he had a small bet. It was a marginal double down situation so I got my double up. The civilian was contemplating doubling too, and the dealer flashed the next card, which would have given either of us a 21. I paid the civilian a black to not take the hit, which I did, and both of us ended up very happy that hand, even though I took a beating at that table overall.
At another table, I saw something new. My usual slow-bleed, nothing serious, but the dealer looked sick. I mean, really sick. In the middle of a hand he yells "Floor, emergency!" and runs from the table with his hand over his mouth, heaving. Now I've seen players do that but never a dealer. Some of the other players thought it was funny but I didn't; I don't like deviations from the norm, they always seem to portend a bad experience for some reason. The PC dealt out the rest of the hand and another dealer came in. Couldn't wait to get away from that table.
Wish I did wait. The next table saw a very high count very quickly, and I did my thing. And it all fell apart. Lost hand after hand. Ten BJ's were dealt during that run- 4 to the dealer, 5 to the other player at the table, and one to me, despite my playing two hands. The high cards came out fast and furious- usually two to the dealer, two to the other player and a nice stiff for me. And it was slow and annoying. That shoe took nearly a half hour- ploppies bickering in Vietnamese between every card, blowing smoke in my face, no-English dealer with a smartass snicker after every player loss and even grudged one of my rare wins, trying to pick up the bet instead of pay. Digging and digging until I had no more to dig, and that sickening feeling of playing with the crumbs of your playing stake, dinky little bets on a huge count, unwilling to walk away from a good count but knowing even if you won every remaining hand it wouldn't make much of a difference. And to add insult to injury, I did win the last few hands, with tiny bets, as ploppy and pit boss turned their heads away in pity and disgust at the nauseating spectacle they just witnessed.
No of course I'm not really bankrupt. But when I wake up tomorrow it's not going to be just a dream- the money is really gone. It's a few months' EV up in smoke. I struggled and ground the whole week before just to make half that much- all gone. True, it's also only about a month's salary for me too. But what if it wasn't? This would be devastating, probably turn me off to the game for good, despite there being only a 1% chance of this kind of loss occurring. There will be a 1% chance of it happening again tomorrow. And that would be devastating. Hopefully this story will help everyone prepare for what you most definitely will encounter if you play long enough.
This past week I was on a BJ road trip. It went acceptably well, short of trip EV (mostly due to weather and crowded conditions) but I fought off the dealers and the heat and had a reasonably profitable time. (My nicest hand was a spectacular one that has a 1 out of 281775 chance of occurring in this particular game. Shhh... that's all the info you need to determine where I was playing!)
Tonight I walked into a New Jersey store, with a nice fat playing stake and anticipation of the usual slow grind and typical modest profits. Four hours later, I walked out crushed and bankrupt. Down 208 units, almost exactly twice my winnings of the previous week.
It started with a weird play. Very high count, the civilian to my right and I had the same soft hand and I had a max bet on it while he had a small bet. It was a marginal double down situation so I got my double up. The civilian was contemplating doubling too, and the dealer flashed the next card, which would have given either of us a 21. I paid the civilian a black to not take the hit, which I did, and both of us ended up very happy that hand, even though I took a beating at that table overall.
At another table, I saw something new. My usual slow-bleed, nothing serious, but the dealer looked sick. I mean, really sick. In the middle of a hand he yells "Floor, emergency!" and runs from the table with his hand over his mouth, heaving. Now I've seen players do that but never a dealer. Some of the other players thought it was funny but I didn't; I don't like deviations from the norm, they always seem to portend a bad experience for some reason. The PC dealt out the rest of the hand and another dealer came in. Couldn't wait to get away from that table.
Wish I did wait. The next table saw a very high count very quickly, and I did my thing. And it all fell apart. Lost hand after hand. Ten BJ's were dealt during that run- 4 to the dealer, 5 to the other player at the table, and one to me, despite my playing two hands. The high cards came out fast and furious- usually two to the dealer, two to the other player and a nice stiff for me. And it was slow and annoying. That shoe took nearly a half hour- ploppies bickering in Vietnamese between every card, blowing smoke in my face, no-English dealer with a smartass snicker after every player loss and even grudged one of my rare wins, trying to pick up the bet instead of pay. Digging and digging until I had no more to dig, and that sickening feeling of playing with the crumbs of your playing stake, dinky little bets on a huge count, unwilling to walk away from a good count but knowing even if you won every remaining hand it wouldn't make much of a difference. And to add insult to injury, I did win the last few hands, with tiny bets, as ploppy and pit boss turned their heads away in pity and disgust at the nauseating spectacle they just witnessed.
No of course I'm not really bankrupt. But when I wake up tomorrow it's not going to be just a dream- the money is really gone. It's a few months' EV up in smoke. I struggled and ground the whole week before just to make half that much- all gone. True, it's also only about a month's salary for me too. But what if it wasn't? This would be devastating, probably turn me off to the game for good, despite there being only a 1% chance of this kind of loss occurring. There will be a 1% chance of it happening again tomorrow. And that would be devastating. Hopefully this story will help everyone prepare for what you most definitely will encounter if you play long enough.