Katweezel
Well-Known Member
Recently, Aslan posted his experience with a belligerent, intimidating type of blackjack player that rounded on him at the same table, because Aslan had had the nerve to double his A7 and the Mouth was playing two $500 hands. (The Mouth's principle was that the money on the table dictates, and besides, only a real goose would double an already 18; right?)
This took me back a few years to when I liked a certain room off the main floor at Brisbane's Treasury casino. This room generally had four tables and usually at least one hand-shuffled shoe game. So this particular day I check it out and yep, there is my favourite table as expected, but with a whole gang of Chinese players, (including Mom) playing just two boxes (one and six, and max for each round) exclusively. They seem to be winning quite well, so I elect to join the fun and the pitboss gives me the nod and I do a mid-shoe entry.
I don't understand any spoken Chinese, but I get a pretty fair idea of what they are talking about to each other and the tone and body language is not pleasant. One bursts forth in pidgin English, something about the Flow of Cards and I am about to fvck it up by plonking my arse right there on box 3 - right in the middle of the Sacred Flow. So why don't I just piss off and find another table, and not upset their winning streak... the head Triad says.
The pitcritter does not really want to be involved in any China V Australia Blackjack War, and I'm sure he'd really prefer if I'd just piss off and find another table. But being of good ol convict Aussie stock, I'm getting a little pissed by the Chinese Mafia throwing its weight around me, and not even saying please. So I say, "Howdy Jacky Chan. Nice of you to let me join the fun. How ya doin mate?" This does not go down at all well, and even Grandma is getting in on the act, with her shrill voice.
The game continues, but with a negative vibe you could cut with chopsticks.
After that round, a committee decision has been reached and amid much grumbling, the entire Triad leaves the table and stands nearby. I take a closer look at them. I meet six pairs of eyes focused on my throat area and I'm convinced the head Ninja is fumbling for a dagger to slit something of mine in the neck area. My game continues, alone at the table now.
But I'm aware of invisible daggers flying through the air and killing me, over and over. It's beginning to get to me, as I find myself doubling 9 against dealer 10 - something I never do, even after too many Jack is Backs. My concentration, focus and timing is way out. Is China using some secret psycho weapon to get rid of their pests? Fortunately, they left the room shortly after and things returned to relative peace and harmony.
Now for my point. I'm certain most of us have sat with The Mouth, in its many and varied forms. Only a very strong mind is able to maintain composure, focus and concentration when confronted with a personal, highly-charged emotional attack. It's not always possible to find another table and worse still, the count might be highly favourable, so why leave, just because of one arse with a Big Mouth... I think there could be some interesting views and experiences on this topic among you guys here...:grin:
This took me back a few years to when I liked a certain room off the main floor at Brisbane's Treasury casino. This room generally had four tables and usually at least one hand-shuffled shoe game. So this particular day I check it out and yep, there is my favourite table as expected, but with a whole gang of Chinese players, (including Mom) playing just two boxes (one and six, and max for each round) exclusively. They seem to be winning quite well, so I elect to join the fun and the pitboss gives me the nod and I do a mid-shoe entry.
I don't understand any spoken Chinese, but I get a pretty fair idea of what they are talking about to each other and the tone and body language is not pleasant. One bursts forth in pidgin English, something about the Flow of Cards and I am about to fvck it up by plonking my arse right there on box 3 - right in the middle of the Sacred Flow. So why don't I just piss off and find another table, and not upset their winning streak... the head Triad says.
The pitcritter does not really want to be involved in any China V Australia Blackjack War, and I'm sure he'd really prefer if I'd just piss off and find another table. But being of good ol convict Aussie stock, I'm getting a little pissed by the Chinese Mafia throwing its weight around me, and not even saying please. So I say, "Howdy Jacky Chan. Nice of you to let me join the fun. How ya doin mate?" This does not go down at all well, and even Grandma is getting in on the act, with her shrill voice.
The game continues, but with a negative vibe you could cut with chopsticks.
After that round, a committee decision has been reached and amid much grumbling, the entire Triad leaves the table and stands nearby. I take a closer look at them. I meet six pairs of eyes focused on my throat area and I'm convinced the head Ninja is fumbling for a dagger to slit something of mine in the neck area. My game continues, alone at the table now.
But I'm aware of invisible daggers flying through the air and killing me, over and over. It's beginning to get to me, as I find myself doubling 9 against dealer 10 - something I never do, even after too many Jack is Backs. My concentration, focus and timing is way out. Is China using some secret psycho weapon to get rid of their pests? Fortunately, they left the room shortly after and things returned to relative peace and harmony.
Now for my point. I'm certain most of us have sat with The Mouth, in its many and varied forms. Only a very strong mind is able to maintain composure, focus and concentration when confronted with a personal, highly-charged emotional attack. It's not always possible to find another table and worse still, the count might be highly favourable, so why leave, just because of one arse with a Big Mouth... I think there could be some interesting views and experiences on this topic among you guys here...:grin:
