vegas, baby. vegas.

Last weekend my brother (Aaron) and I went to Atlantic City for a combination late celebration of my birthday/”last chance to act like a drunken, gambling idiot before I have a kid” evening. Even though I am not the gambling type, I somehow figured this would be a good idea. Aaron had never been to a Casino before and anxiously counted down the weeks leading up to the trip. He kept referring to Atlantic City as Vegas, which became the running joke of the weekend. Vegas, baby. Vegas.

Somehow I have developed a bizarre sense of self-empowerment over the last year or so. Maybe it’s a response to having been an underachiever for so many years (and then going to grad school, getting a good job, etc.) or possibly the lingering result of my jiu-jitsu exploits. Regardless, it’s usually a good thing, with last weekend as one of the exceptions. Allow me to explain…

About five years ago Julia was out of town for the weekend and I came down with the flu. At the time our television had no reception, but through some sort of divine intervention, the TV managed to pickup a few channels for the weekend. One of the shows I watched while lying on the couch in a daze was a Discovery Channel special on gambling, during which all the various percentages of winning at casinos were broken down. I specifically remembered that video poker machines were said to have some of the best odds. For some reason I have always carried this bit of knowledge with me, figuring it would come in handy at some point.

A couple of years later we visited friends in Vegas and did a tiny bit of gambling. At the time we were brutally low on money, but I did get to play a some video poker. Once I had (quickly) lost the small amount of money I had rationed myself, I realized that had I been playing with maximum bets (I’ll explain this in a bit), the odds would have greatly increased in my favor. Here was another bit of knowledge to be stored away for some future date.

This brings us to last week. Leading up to a trip to a casino, a normal person might decide how much they were willing to lose in advance, then play a variety of games, have some fun and hope for the best. Well, a normal person I am not. A few days before the trip, I embarked on an exhaustive video poker research project and subsequent training session. The Discovery Channel documentary, the brief flirtation with video poker in Vegas – it was all meant to lead up to this. It was my destiny. I would come home with my unborn son’s college fund.

My online research lead me to this site, which is a fantastic resource. There I learned (or confirmed) the following:

1. Always play at maximum bets, which offers a bonus for winning big. In other words, if you are playing on a $1 machine, bet five coins ($5) per play.
2. Pick a game and learn and apply a specific strategy.
3. Play fast to increase your odds of getting the big one: a royal straight flush (which pays out at $4,000 on a $1 machine with maximum bets).
4. Only play on Full Play machines (otherwise known as 9/6 machines). These pay out at 9 to 1 for a full house and 6 to 1 for a flush.
5. Research to find out which casinos have the best machines.
6. Practice ahead of time.

Basically, playing video poker on the right machine with a solid strategy allows you to tread water (with a few ups and downs) for a shot at a big payout. You have to have enough money to cushion a dip, too. Most serious video pokers play with $1,000 and play 500-600 hands an hour.

So, I settled on Jacks or Better and used a basic strategy. From Friday night through Saturday morning I probably played over 1,000 practice hands using Bodog’s excellent simulator. This sent me into a trance-like hallucinogenic state, compounded by the fact that we were having painting done in our apartment, so I had the windows wide open and was shivering while inhaling fumes.

On the drive down to Atlantic City, I explained the game and corresponding strategy to my brother, who was instantly hooked. Like a cult leader who buys into his own insanity, I was probably pretty convincing. The plan was that we would each play with $300 as a cushion. We promised each other that if either one of us won big, we’d pay for the other’s losses. I laid out my plan: I’d start out on a $1 machine and go up to a $5 machine if I went up $300 (which seemed like a given).

After checking into the shady Comfort Inn (which featured a cooler of nothing but alcohol behind the front desk), Aaron took me out for a fantastic steak dinner and we headed over to Caesar’s. It took a while to find the right machines, but when we did, a grizzled, slightly drunken video poker player was collecting his $4,000 jackpot. He could tell I knew what I was doing and we exchanged the small-talk of those in the know. “They hide these machines way in the back, you know,” he said, “I’m proof that you really can win.” Again, it all felt like destiny.

Aaron started playing first while I coached him a little. After he got the hang of it, I sat down and started playing. Instantly I was up $100, while Aaron started sinking. I played so fast that several people stopped to watch. As Aaron kept dropping, I kept going up. A few four-of-a-kinds did me nicely and I always seemed to pick up a three-of-a-kind off a low pair. Not only was I winning, but I was winning because of my research and training. I had beaten the odds. Something came over me - I felt invincible. A couple of times Aaron tried to talk to me or give me high-fives and I scowled at him for daring to break my zone. I was one with the machine.

While Aaron wandered around behind me calling all his friends to tell them loudly that he was drunk in Vegas and had just lost $300, I kept going up. When I hit $300, I stopped, adhering to the plan. The previously mentioned normal person might have stopped here - winning $300 is pretty cool - but I barely cracked a smile. As far as I was concerned, my success was a direct result of practice, planning and strategy. Luck? What’s that?

We went looking for a $5 machine, which took a while. Walking past the roulette tables and slot machines, it was all I could do not to laugh at all the fools just wasting their money. If only they knew what I did. Vegas, baby. Vegas.

Finally we found the machine and I settled in. Instantly I went up another $100 (again, probably a good place to stop) but then started dropping. Once I went down $200 (still up $200 overall), I stopped and went back to the old machine with a scowl and a swagger.

Right away I went all the way back up (and, again, should really have stopped there), but then things started to go sour. My vision got blurry from staring at the screen for so long (I’m guessing we had been there for four hours at this point) and I started making the wrong decisions, but realizing too late. Where I had previously enjoyed the attention of someone watching over my shoulder in awe at my flurry of a right hand, I now shot evil looks at people and worried that they were jinxing me. I was only up $100. Then I was back at zero.

The thought briefly (finally) occurred to me that I should stop right there, but it felt weird, having nothing to show for four hours other than a headache and a sore arm. My old wrestling coach used to say a tie is worse than a loss, which is probably somewhere along the lines of what I was thinking. Besides, I had trained for this – I couldn’t quit now.

I went down $200, hovered there for a while, then, finally, inevitably, it was all gone. I was crushed. Ashamed. Failing to factor luck into the equation, I blamed myself. It couldn’t have possibly been the fact that people who gamble tend to lose. I just should have stopped when my game started to slip.

We had a couple of drinks in a depressing casino bar/lounge and tried to laugh it off. Aaron had lost just as much as I had, but since he is so much more carefree (and less narcissistic), he tried desperately to cheer up his moping older brother.

Finally we staggered out into the brutal Atlantic City cold to catch a cab. After we rode for a few blocks I turned to Aaron and said, “Well, at least we’re staying at a nice hotel.” Even the cab driver burst into laugher. Then, without missing a beat, Aaron leaned forward and said, “Actually, can you drive us to a cliff?” Vegas, baby. Vegas.