Las Vegas Hotel | The Cosmopolitan of Las Vegas, Autograph

So, you wanna go to SHOT show? You think it's all fun and games? Get to play with guns? See Jesse James and R. Lee Ermey? SHOT show is the annual pilgrimage of the unwashed masses to Las Vegas to rub elbows with youtube celebrities, bloggers and overseas businessmen copying US made equipment and share infectious disease.
If you love guns, gambling and gonorrhea - SHOT show is for you! It is not my typical idea of a good time. I am not a big fan of Las Vegas.
However: I do attend for a few reasons. First, I do enjoy travel and I'm platinum on AA so I can usually score an upgrade. Second, industry people are in there that I do hundreds of thousands if not millions of dollars with business with so it's nice to put a face with the name and see what deals are out there. SHOT for me has been a bust for the past few years. Being a value guy, I want to buy at $1000 and sell at $3000 and as of recently the gun business is more like buy for $1 and sell for $1.10 if you get what I mean.
We used to do business at SHOT and now it's just checking in on foursquare, instagram and rubbing elbows with bloggers and the like. I want to make money, not spend money so this is very annoying to me.
Anyways, onto the play by play.
Monday, January 16th. One day before SHOT show.
http://imgur.com/a/HoFUm
Every time I've been rejected by a woman, I move $1 from checking into savings and I take the bankroll down to the Wynn for some play. Lets do this.
The TSA line is a shitshow thanks to, well TSA.
I slog my way to the lounge, as shitty as it is to wait for my winged chariot to DFW. I have gone from being in an abusive relationship with Delta to being in an abusive relationship with AA. Although if you really want to experience the battered spouse feeling, UA is a few gates over. This trip's light reading is trying to finish "The Tipping Point" by Malcolm Gladwell. Such a good book as well as "Outliers" if you want a good read.
I walk up to the podium to find out that my upgrades do not clear, even as an AA Plat thanks to the addition of a FOURTH elite tier. Goddamn fucking W. Doug Parker. Asshole. I gate check my bags to make life easier for me and the rest of the folks. The gate agent calls concierge key and executive platinum passengers. I look down and realize I'm wearing a suit and board with the executive platinum folks because I do not care and I look the part. If you walk with a purpose and are dressed reasonably well, you fit the profile. I settle into my window seat and try to finish outliers. I pass out before takeoff and I'm awoken by the dulcet tones of the flight attendants preparing for landing. We land at Dallas a few minutes early and I hightail it to the Centurion for a quick bite to eat. I grab a plate and help myself to some of the excellent brisket, pecan encrusted chicken and some roasted jumbo asparagus. Yes, my pee is going to smell funny. No, I do not care. The lounge is packed. The bar is full and I grab a quick single malt as I have my meal since American's not going to feed me. They begin boarding to Mccarran as I walk out of the lounge. No time for a stop in the spa on this trip. I make it to the gate just as the call group 2 boarding.
I bypass the main line and walk up through the priority line giving no heed to the people that have been waiting there before me as I hold up my paper boarding pass with PLATINUM to the gate agent. I board and take my usual seat - the exit row without the seat in front of it. I'm aghast to see this sight.
http://imgur.com/a/dygil
The savages. Literally. The savages.
I put my loathing away for a moment and look down at the exit row. I have the window. The aisle is a large middle aged man and in the middle is what I believe to be a formecurrent linebacker for the Dallas Cowboys wearing a 52 regular sports jacket. He's not a fat guy in a little coat, he's a big fucking hulk of a man stuffed in an exit row seat that is already an inch narrower due to the tray table. I grimace as I take my seat and give him the manly nod. He does not look happy about the fact that his knees are in the seat in front and I'm stretched out like a Cheshire cat in front of a fireplace on a cold January afternoon.
The boarding door closes for an on time departure and Stephanie the FA takes her seat. He leans over and asks if he can take the empty row across the aisle and she takes one look at the three of us and gives him the nod. I bail out to give him a path of egress and suddenly the trip to Las Vegas has just become way more comfortable. I finish The Tipping Point somewhere over west texas, so I pop a xanax and dr pepper and zone out for the rest of the ride. I awake to feel one of the FA's jostling me awake telling me to put my seat up. I do so and we have a ride so smooth that not even the Delta guy behind me can complain about light chop. We catch the TYSSN4 arrival and the next thing I know it the Messier Dowty landing gear of the A321 touch the paint at Mccarran for a smooth rollout down 25L.
My phone battery is approaching grim death since this seat has no power plugs and I find bartman383 has sent me a message. He has been enjoying LV with his wife and their due to bad weather they are in the city of sin for a few extra nights. He invites me to dinner. I'm still pretty full from DFW and I tell him I'll be over there once I get my bags and the car and I'll see him when I see him. He gives me the info for the hotel as we pull up to the gate.
First stop: Centurion lounge. AA's app tells me bags being unloaded. I grab a quick bite of fried chicken and brussels sprouts since they are good for you and a chocolate pudding. The brisket and pecan encrusted chicken from DFW still has me full but I'm well aware of the speed of a union baggage handlers nowadays and who doesn't like chocolate pudding? Terrorists. That's who. Want to know how to screen for terrorists TSA? Set up a table of free chocolate pudding at the airport. The people who don't take any are members of ISIS. It's just that simple.
I grab my bag and hoof it to Hertz. I'm an idiot and I am an hour late for my pickup. Oops. Will an Audi A3 suffice? I sigh and I accept my Teutonic quattro chariot. I do a burnout in the parking garage and hightail it to the exit. I flash my #1 card and my ID and the gatekeeper gives me the go ahead. I get onto the the strip and traffic is awful. I'm going to be late for dinner. I make a left onto Russell Road and hightail it up the 15. I manage to get the car up to 100 as I pass the Luxor. My phone is dead so I can't message Bart about being late. Fuck. The exit approaches quickly as I put the 4 wheel disk brakes to work and sling the car around and head south on Las Vegas Bl. I accidentally turn into the Bellagio and I'm now running even more late. Fuck. Eventually, I get the car into the garage at the Cosmopolitan and head upstairs. I cannot remember the name of the restaurant but I head up to the third floor where all the restaurants are and I see this sign that's reminiscent of my days in retail.
It says RESTAURANT - LOUNGE - PAWN SHOP.
I laugh. I walk in. It's literally a pawnshop. I look around puzzled.
FC: Is this a restaurant?
Bald Headed Guy: Yes, through that door.
He points towards a door. I walk in to find a bustling restaurant, lounge via the entrance of pawnshop. This is insane. I pass a mirror and check myself out. I adjust my tie, after all it is YSL and the ladies LOVE YSL. Remember that. I find the hostess and inform her I will be joining some friends for dinner. They probably do not have me on the reservation though but I turn on the charm and she smiles and says no problem at all. She asks if my tie is from Hermes. I say no, I'm a YSL guy. She looks impressed as I tell her I'll make a quick lap of the room to see if they're there and surprise them. She gives me a nod and tells me to go right ahead. Still got it.
I spot bart and his wife who I can only remember vaguely from gunnitlive after party video and I pull up a chair. Bart is surprised to see I made it and they are in the middle of dinner. They offer to ply me with food and beverage but I decline as I'm driving so no booze for me and no food since I am stuffed from Dallas. We chat about life and liberty over libations. Bart's wife thinks I am hysterical. She's had a few drinks and they are already into their main courses. The brussels sprouts are way too salty and we have to send it back. No bueno.
Bart invites me up to his suite on the top floor of the hotel where we are to meet Brogelicious later in the evening. I say, when in rome......we head to the top floor of the hotel tower where Bart shows me his view from the balcony and cracks open the mini bar for some more libations. He asks if I want a drink and I say I better not. I'm driving.
Not 30 seconds after arriving, brogel shows up. Bart's wife hugs brogel. She's infatuated with him. We start shooting the shit and bart opens up the minibar and tells us to take anything we want, it's on the hotel. I laugh and I look outside as bart opens his yeti 110 for some silver bullets. Apparently he is so baller the hotel will send up a yeti 110 filled with beer to make him happy. His wife is apparently such a baller. I ball on a budget. They just ball. Hahaha.
We shoot the shit some more about guns, gun stuff and people on the reddit for a while. I get a little thirsty and I crack open bart's cooler. I ask him how long the stuff in the cooler is supposed to last and he says until Wednesday.
I look down and I am agape at what I see.
We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a saltshaker half-full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers... Also, a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of beer, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls. Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get locked into a serious drug collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can. The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge, and I knew we'd get into that rotten stuff pretty soon.
I mentally prepared my butthole and I decided to help myself to a coors light against my wishes but Bart, Bart's wife and Brogel are all drinking so I let peer pressure take hold as I cracked open a beer with them. We head out to the balcony to smoke some cuban cigars together as bart's wife takes a photo of all of us. We all look like hell. Haha.
As bart downs his second beer, he asks me a question.
Bart: ever go hunting?
Me: Ducks a little bit but not much
Bart: ever want to hunt some deadly game?
Me: Like on african safari?
Bart: No, I mean like.........man.
Me: Hahahahhahaaha you're just fucking with me. Hahahahahhaa. That's really funny.
Bart: No really, the concierge here at this hotel will set it up for us. It's amazing. I remember my first hunt......
Brogel starts laughing and I realize they've been doing a bit. I've been had.
We bullshit about SHOT and Barrett's shotguns and other things and next thing I know, it's late but bart hands me a mixed drink. I sip it a bit and I was in the middle of a tirade complaining about my customers. Suddenly, there was a terrible roar all around us, and the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, all swooping and screeching and diving around the city, and a voice was screaming: Holy Jesus. What are these goddamn animals? Nobody seems to understand what I'm talking about. It's cold on the balcony. Our cigars are done. We head indoors. No point in mentioning these bats, I thought. Poor bastards will see them soon enough.
Back indoors I realize Brussels sprouts and coors light is a bad choice. Seriously no bueno. I excuse myself to the bathroom and drain the vein. The asparagus funny smelling pee and the side effects of beer and brussels sprouts is a noxious combination that a defense contractor should weaponize it. It's pretty bad and not even cuban tobbaco can mask the smell.
I sit back down and continue to talk about guns and stuff with bart and the gang and bart asks who ruined the bathroom. I apologize as he sprays a bunch of febreze around and opens the balcony. I apolgize to brogel. He is not accepting my apology. (sorry :( )
Nearly 11, it's about time to pull chocks and mosey on down the dusty trail. I don't want to prompt an evacuation of the hotel due to noxious odors so I decide to leave and bart seems to be kinda mad that I've ripped ass and polluted the sanctuary of his hotel. Half a coors light and brussels sprouts are no bueno in my book now. Bart decides to party hard with his wife and I offer brogel a ride home. He seems skeptical to share a confined space with me after I have just destroyed bart's hotel room. The car has 4 windows and the Uber will cost him a few bucks he can put towards ammo. He relents as we head down to the garage to find my car. Thankfully we find it quickly and I manage to contain the weapons of ass destruction for the 16 minute ride off strip to casa de brogel.
He says I'm not that bad a dude and I agree as I hightail it to my hotel. I cannot find my hotel reservations so I call my travel agent to see.
Apparently the Wynn was not in my travel budget this year. I have come to find out I have been booked at Circus Circus, much to my chagrin. How bad could it be? I've stayed at the Wynn. I've stayed at Encore. I've stayed at the hotel that Elisabeth Shue's character got raped in in Leaving Las Vegas - but Circus Circus? Did I mention that I HATE CLOWNS? I HATE CLOWNS. Fuck.
I pull into the parking garage and the check in line resembles something straight out of the TSA line at Mccarran. 45 minutes to check in. The clerk is friendly and says he's also from Louisiana which is neat. He asks if I've stayed there before and I, being a connoisseur of old vegas history I decide to make a joke and I tell him the last time I was there, Jay Sarno owned the place. He got a laugh. I head up to my room and unpack. The lobby is clean as an old vegas casino can be, the room is clean and there's no way to plug anything in since the hotel predates personal electronic devices. I plug my phone into my external battery and collapse on the bed. I message Bart and chugbleach instead of falling asleep about show tomorrow and I offer to pick bart up early since there is no shuttle from the cosmo.
Tuesday, November 16th SHOT Show Day One
I awoke several hours later in a daze......the clock said 10AM. The show opened at 8:30. Fuck me to tears. I hurry up and get dressed and down to the sands convention center. The parking lot is FULL. The entire complex is a mess. When my man Steve Wynn built his joint he didn't build enough parking. So people would park at the Venetian and now FUCKING NOBODY CAN GET A PARKING SPACE. Holy shit. I eventually say fuck it and park over at the Wynn and walk over to the Sands. I meet up with a few of my regular suppliers and I see nothing interesting at all. Bart went to bed at 6AM after spending all night partying with his wife over at the palazzo. I joke and say that he just should have stayed there. Bart is amazed at the size of the show and we have lunch at the most disgusting place in las vegas - the convention center bistro snack bar. Bart is a wise man as he grabs a powerade and a fruit cup. I decide to try an "italian beef" and a fruit cup instead of fries to stay semi health conscious. The "italian beef" is the most disgusting thing I have ever eaten. It is flat out depressing. They give me fries with it and I demand a fruit cup. The sassy black woman working the stand asks me "DID YOU ASK FOR FRUIT? CAUSE RIGHT HERE SAYS FRIES" and I channel my inner Louis CK from the "this is how I talk" bit from SNL as I shoot back "WHY YOU FRONTIN ON ME I ASKED FOR FRUIT AND YOUR ASS BETTER BACK UP AND GET ME SOME FRUIT" so she goes back and gets me some fruit.
The "italian beef", my fruit cup, bart's fruit cup and powerade comes to $81. My platinum amex comes out and I treat bart to "lunch". We bullshit about guns and stuff in the Springfield booth as we wait at the world's worst concession stand. We eat and Bart is so hungover that he thinks he is in need of physical therapy and a wheelchair. There is no way he is going to party tonight before his trip home. Or so I think. Haha.
I meander around the show a bit more and I find this, the most USELESS PRODUCT OF 2017. It's made by a company called radetec.
http://imgur.com/a/GOiCB
It's a shot counter. For your gun.
A digital odometer, for your gun.
The only person that would buy this is the guy like my dad that kept a spiral bound notebook in his car where he documented how many miles he traveled per tank, gallons dispensed, PRICE, service station and whether they had a different price for cash/charge, oil consumption, tire rotations, alignments, all services - scheduled or otherwise, and a running odometer. Does anyone know the gun owner who asks for a round count when they are looking at a used gun? The question I always shoot back is "do you want to be lied at a little or do you want to be lied at a lot?" because that's what you're asking for when you ask for round count.
UNLESS YOU BUY THIS PRODUCT!
I roll my eyes so far back into my head that I nearly lose my balance. This is idiotic. I cannot fathom anyone willing to buy this. What a waste of perfectly good exhibition space.
Bart heads back to his hotel after visiting SHOT show for a few hours, not getting any swag and to get an IV of fluids since he looked like he was rapidly approaching grim death.
I wrap up visiting prime vendors and checking out the new products, or lack thereof because I have something on the schedule. At 4:30 there's a suicide prevention for retailers seminar hosted by the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. As many of you know this is an issue that is important to me and perhaps we as retailers should be doing more. The keynote was from their chief medical director talking about the accessibility of firearms and the mindset of the "typical" suicide. Mostly men. If you are a veteran you are at a significantly larger risk. The information was presented very not surprisingly and one of the things discussed was that we only spend around 21M a year on suicide prevention.
A few take away facts from the keynote:
When suicide barriers are put up on a bridge, suicide rates for the entire area drop. The key to preventing suicide is getting people to talk about their problems. Once you can get someone out of that mindset, they are statistically less likely to do it and live productive lives afterwards. There are certain terms that they are trying to get away from - for instance, they are not saying "committed suicide" they are now saying "died by suicide" in order to bring awareness and tell it like it is.
One thing that really was interesting to me was my reading on the flight in from Dallas. In The Tipping Point, Gladwell discusses how things stay the same and suddenly they all change. One of the things that he discusses is in micronesia - where teen suicide was practically unheard of became an outright epidemic. One teenager did it, for reasons passing understanding to me as an outsider and then all the other kids realized that they too could escape their pain by hanging themselves as well and suddenly the suicide rates in micronesia became so high to where it became a public health issue. I wish I could show you all the article I wrote on TTAG about my friend's death but it has been lost in the cloud and I am unable to find the last draft I sent to print, but it echoes some of the problems we have with suicide and mental health in the firearm industry.
After the keynote, the good doctor opened the floor up for questions. Her keynote posed a lot of statistics but not a lot of answers. I am a detail oriented granular data guy and I did not get a solid grasp of the AFSP solutions posed, if any.
Several firearm dealers discussed the lack of a cohesive solution and the takeaway was they're trying to develop awareness for the suicide problem. Their goal is to lower suicide rates but how they get there is yet to be determined. I didn't like hearing that and the comments from the crowd reflected the lack of a "here's what you can do TODAY to help this problem" part of the initiative.
Going around the room, one dealer who used NICS said that if a customer was just flat out acting funny - he'd lie to the customer and say there was a delay with NICS even though there was an approval just to get them to not be able to have a gun for a few days. The crowd applauded this initiative, however I'm not sure lying to customers is the best way to run a business and treat them with respect. Another dealer brought up an interesting point. When someone comes in looking to buy a gun and they don't know what kind of gun they want, what caliber, and are generally clueless - they're either buying a gun to kill themselves with, OR perhaps they are a very uneducated prospective customer - and there is no clear way of finding out which is which.
The problems presented by the AFSP are real. The solutions aren't there though. Yet. Ideally I'd like to see some change to that. However, there's some problems.
I hung around and asked the good doctor and her staff some questions and I am in no way denigrating her life's work and her dedication to preventing suicide since she has dedicated her life's work to the issue, but the conversation went something like this.
Did you do any research on the accessibility of firearms from a retailer from the legal standpoint?
"No, we haven't"
Do you know how the NICS or state POC background systems work in regard to mental health holds, etc?
"No"
One of the problems that I foresee right off the bat is that you talked about how you are fighting time, and if you can get someone out of that suicide mindset - even for a few hours, you can get them into that higher survival bracket. If we apply a one size fits all solution to it like California and put a 10 day wait on everything with the goal of protecting someone from their own life, how do we balance that with the needs of the woman who has been hiding from her abusive spouse and needs a gun right away?
"That's a good question that I don't have an answer for."
Their initiative, I admire - the lack of solutions is a little off putting however. I tell the doc about how my friend's suicide has impacted me and she seems to be sympathetic to the situation as does her colleagues. I am given her cards and told to call the next time I'm in New York so we can get together and discuss things within the industry. I'll give them a buzz in a few weeks when I'm up there on business. On my way out of the hall, I run into Massad Ayoob. Nice guy. I've admired his work over the years. Bart invites myself and chugbleach to dinner, I can't reach Chug and even though I am beat I decide to hang out with Bart and Mrs Bart
Bart: What do you want to eat?
FC: Let's find a nice seafood restaurant and eat some red salmon, I feel a powerful lust for red salmon.
I begin vomiting.
God damn mescaline. Why the fuck can't they make it a little less pure?
We eventually head downstairs and order too much food. We are tired and not very hungry. Bart is still hungover and barely able to process food. His wife is grazing on all sorts of meat products. I am in awe of how they are both still upright after six nonstop nights of partying. I've only been here one day and I feel like I am about to die.
Dinner concludes with an awkward hug with bart's wife - I don't know how other men feel about wife hugs so I have just avoided the prospect entirely. Like flying through Denver on Frontier. Or flying on Frontier. Ever.
I drive over to the Wynn to set up my markers and the poker room is full. I draw a $2500 marker at the craps table and watch the game a bit. I have never played craps before in my life but the three people there seem to be having fun.
I look down at my phone and I realize a plane has landed. fluffy_butternut has landed in Las Vegas on business. I had lost a bet and offered to pick him up from the airport. I cash back in my chips against my casino credit and head back to my car. I cannot find my car. Fuck. I wander the wynn garage which is covered in construction debris. I eventually find it and haul ass to the airport. Now, I didn't know this but fluffy has the WORST SENSE OF DIRECTION AT ALL. Seriously. I have no idea how he even made it to the correct city. He lands and has to get his bag and stuff and I circle the airport. He lets me know he's at door 77 wherever the fuck that was. I drive into the pickup portion and I see no sign. He then says he's coming up a level, and I tell him that I'll be there shortly. I park the car and Metro PD starts yelling.
Metro: You can't park your car here.
FC: Why not? Is this not a reasonable place to park?
Metro: Reasonable? You're on a sidewalk! This is the sidewalk!
I give the man a $20 and tell him to keep it running as I wander Mccarran screaming FLUFFY! HERE FLUFFY! I message fluffy to let him know I am the car parked on the sidewalk. I instantly figure out who he is having never seen a photo of him and I throw his bags into the car as we head for his hotel. I haul ass out of the airport and get the A3 on the highway.
Now this was a superior machine. Thirty nine grand worth of gimmicks and high-priced special effects. The rear windows lit up with a touch like frogs in a dynamite pond. The dashboard was full of esoteric lights and dials and meters that I would never understand.
We check in at the Rio where the desk clerk is friendly and flirty. I express amazement there is no line. Fluffy checks in and we take his bags upstairs and he offers to buy me food for driving him to the airport. I decline. We head to the bar anyways. He orders two beers and we decide to call chug. He's staying out in Summerlin or something because his company is apparently run by cheapskates. He asks if we want to hang out and shoot the shit. I say sure and ask if he wants us to pick up food or anything from CVS or something since I have the car and I'm able to do anything I want. He asks for some toothpaste. No problem. I may be an asshole on the internet but I have a heart of gold. We get some toothpaste get to the hotel.
Arriving at the lobby, we have no idea where he is. It turns out he gave us the address for the hotel across the street. We laugh and go to that lobby and shoot the shit till 3AM much to the chagrin of the hotel clerk. Fluffy has some beers and we plan on dinner the next day. I drive fluffy back and arrive at the hotel at 4. Fuck me to tears.
Wednesday, January 18th. Day 2 of SHOT show.
Alarm goes off at 7:30 AM. I wash up, eat and get breakfast. In the garage by 8:15. Nice. I get some dillo dust and check out the new Sig 220 DA/SA and SAO legions. Daddy likey. I go to a competing firm and I piss of my state sales manager by telling him his newer designed triggers suck ass. He says the company tested them and they're the same in every way. I ask him why the triggers have two different part numbers in the catalog and how come they're not interchangeable and if that's really the case, how come there's X changes in the supposedly identical pistol parts that he's holding side by side. He gets mad at me and says I'm not an expert on their product and perhaps I should take his job since I'm so smart. I agree that I'm smart and I hold firm that if he didn't want me to complain about the shitty trigger, they should stop selling guns with shitty triggers. I am nearly kicked out of the booth.
I meet up with some of my wholesale reps and I'm mid convo when I see Itsgoodsoup and his friend walking around the show. I yell SOUP but he does not hear me. So I grab his friend and find him and I tell him we should get together at dinner with fluffy and chug. He agrees.
The show winds down, I get some business done and nothing much else. We break for a shitty gunnit live lite and I take a few questions from the crowd in fluffy's suite at the Rio. Dinner is at 8 and we arrive at the restaurant late to find soup and his friend sitting at one table and chug and his girlfriend sitting at another. Perhaps we should have gotten here a little earlier. Hahaha. So, fluffy said the place is really good and I order a few of the specialties of the house. Apparently according to yelp they do a kickass peking duck. Soon to be mrs chug is a vegan. But we can eat meat in front of her. I wonder how it's served and Soup's vancouver raised asian friend tells me that they normally carve it tableside. Our vegan says as long as there's no head she's cool. We're not sure if they can fulfill that request. So we order and food starts coming out and we tell tall tales of shot show BS and other stuff. Sure enough, the duck comes out with the head. No bueno. Haha. But I decide to treat us to vegan donuts at the vegan bakery across the street later. Seven courses later we are full. Vegan bakery closed. I am committed to getting her some vegan donuts though. We head to Fremont street to gamble. Fluffy wanders about and we try craps and we're not impressed. We hit some slots and eventually I hit the craps table where chug explains the game to me. We start betting on dice. And somehow we start winning. I find that the house allows you to take 10X behind the line. No idea what this means so I plop $5 on the pass line and the point hits 6. I drop $50 behind it and it hits. We go a few rounds and leave ahead. It's 2:30 AM. Fuck. I drive everyone back to their hotel. I get to sleep around 4.
Thursday, January 19th. Day 3 of SHOT show.
Wake up at 10AM feeling like crap. Debate whether to head straight to show and wander about. Fuck it. Went to halal guys for some halal. Delicious. Got vegan donuts. Dead drop them at the Palazzo lobby for chug and his girl. Show is a bust. Literally nothing exciting. Fluffy offers to buy me dinner. One of my customers who lives in Summerlin offers to take me to dinner. I pass on fluffy and he destroys the seafood buffet at the rio. I head to Sinatra at the Wynn for dinner with my customer. All good in the hood. Chug has been invited to the Glock dinneafter party and I'm not so we all go our separate ways. I call foghorn5950 and due to some weather, he's flying home early and our plans to hangout are fucked up unless I go tonight. I grab fluffy and we head to Whiskey Down. He orders a makers and I give him a funny look. I tell the waitress make it a bulleit. Everyone laughs. I talk shop with Jeremy also from TTAG and we shoot the shit over cigars and talk about useless products. Next thing we know, chug is out of the dinner and wandering the strip. We decide to meet up at the Linq. It takes us nearly 30 minutes to get out of Whiskey Down at MGM because the waitress was awful and messed up everyone's tab. It was a fucking disaster. To boot, MGM is now charging for parking.
FC: What a bunch of fucking jews
Fluff: You should just tailgate that lady in front of you out and screw them out of the $7
FC: I should
We pull behind her and watch as she gets flustered at the awful parking machine. Her nevada license plate says VETERAN. As the gate goes up we haul ass and screw MGM out of $7. I shout "THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE" out the window as we blow right by her up to the Linq. Through fluffy's awful navigation, we wind up at the loading dock for the Linq. Eventually we find chug and gf hanging at the penny slots. They are holding vegan donuts, which she is very appreciative of. Least I could do after showing her the head. Fluffy plays the House of Cards slot machine.
He stuck $100 in, played for 6 minutes and then got really mad and hit the cash out button and $80 was left after 5 minutes.
ITS EXACTLY LIKE THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT!
Chug's gf asks to play a special slot machine called kitty glitter. We ask and the linq does not offer it but Harrahs next door does. So we head over there and the slot tech finds the kitty glitter machine. Fluffy sticks a C note in there and tells her to play and have a blast. So she's banging away at the one armed bandit WHEN SUDDENLY I HEAR THE SOUND.
It's PUTTIN ON THE RITZ in shitty .wav file internal speaker format. Hahah. She's just hit the progressive jackpot on the penny KITTY GLITTER machine. THIS PLACE IS AWESOME! We cash out after some play and a good time was had by all. I dump off fluffy at the rio since it was very close and drive everyone else back. It's late, I'm tired and the Palace Station oyster bar is open 24 hours......I head over there and there's a 45 minute wait.
So, I pull out my backup bankroll and using everything chug and fluffy have taught me about craps I belly up to the $3 min table where they let you take 10x behind the line. I'm still learning and the table is slow so one of the boxmen start explaining the game to me.
Box: So if you place the 6 or the 9 or individual numbers you can bet those but you gotta pay a little juice on it like a commission
Me: Like when you buy the hook?
short pause
Box: Yeah! Exactly like that! You got this!
So I played a little and went up a bit and down a bit. As you do. Plunked $5 down on the pass line and took full odds and the point hit. This game is pretty cool! So I hung around and watched for about an hour and finally decided to eat my winnings. I take $5 off my stack and, drop it on the pass line and announce dealer bet - $5 to pass. It hits. The dealers love me.
Maybe Vegas isn't so bad after all.
http://imgur.com/a/LGhDj
I have the pan roast at the oyster bar. No line. It is DELICIOUS. I get back to the hotel at 5AM. I don't care when I wake up.
Friday, January 20th. Day 4 of SHOT show.
Wake up around noon feeling like crap. Go to show. Debate destroying milk cart with wheels with an ax borrowed from fire station. Decide against it. Gas up car and find myself out by palace station again. Played some craps, hit the buffet and went for an early sleep.
It's midnight. The neighbors in my the hotel are having sex. A LOT OF SEX. I can hear everything. I gently knock on the door. No answer. I knock slightly harder. No answer. I head back to my room and close the door just as I hear their door open. I zoom back out to find a puzzled middle aged stocky and perhaps sticky Latino man looking both ways.
I get in his line of sight.
Me: Hey. I'm next door. It sounds like you're having a lot of fun. I get it. I really do. In fact I haven't had sex since the bush administration so I'm gunning for you man I really am. But it's midnight and I have a 6am flight and a rental car to return. So trust me when I say I'm really happy for you but if you don't mind I really need to get some sleep tonight okay?
The awkward silence is deafening. He nods without saying a word and mouths okay. I give him a manly nod and thumbs up.
Me: thanks. I'd shake your hand or fist bump but well you know.....
I give him a peace sign as he goes back into his little pleasure palace and I turn to realize that I have just locked myself out of my room. I am wearing boxers, a tshirt and barefoot. I head downstairs to the lobby. The check in at the front desk resembles the TSA line at Mccarran. Normally I would not be this rude but desperate times call for desperate measures.
The line is 50 people deep. I walk past every person. Fuck your queue. I approach the desk where someone is helping a guest and I raise my right hand as if I were in a deposition to get them to stop. The staff and guest looks puzzled as the angry barefoot man clad in nothing but boxers and a "uzi does it" tshirt approaches the desk.
Me: excuse me. I don't mean to interrupt. I have an emergency. I'm up on 8 and my neighbors are having a lot of sex. I mean a LOT of sex.
(This is the same front desk clerk who actually checked me in Monday night by coincidence looks back at me very awkwardly and puzzled.)
Me: this isn't your regular sex. I'm talking this is your (I begin air humping the front desk and slapping the granite counter with my palm and grunting loudly) sex. You could hear the plan B packaging open.
At this point - the ENTIRE FRONT DESK STAFF HAS STOPPED CHECKING IN GUESTS. The people in line and are watching the show. The clerk is stunned. Speechless. Shock and awed. Crapped out and busted. The women are covering their children's eyes and ears. The men are wondering if this show requires a 2 drink minimum.
Me: now I get this is Vegas. Everyone wants a good time. It's midnight. My flight leaves at 6 which means I have to be up by 4. And this just isn't working. So I asked them to keep it down and I locked myself out of my room. So if you can make me another key or move me I'd appreciate it.
The clerk nods.
Clerk: of course. may I see your ID?
Years of ballet have prepared me for this day. I step back to make sure my genitals are still ensconced in my boxers as I pirouette and gesticulate wildly.
Me: DO I LOOK LIKE I HAVE ID?
The floor manager steps over and asks me to head down to the end of the desk where she will make me a key. I give her the room number and thank her after she offers to have security sent up to shutdown the best little whorehouse in Vegas. I tell her it may not be necessary. As I take my keys and walk away the people in line break out in raucous applause.
I take a bow and miraculously my boxer shorts don't rip. These people are my subjects and I have been crowned the the king of the three ring circus that is the circus circus lobby. Im offered a $1 tip from a kind soul but I decline.
My walk back to the hotel elevator bank is uneventful. So much so that I realize it is going too well. The other shoe, if I were wearing one felt as if it was about to drop. Suddenly a dumbass in a rascal scooter is heading toward me at flank speed as his head is turned to look at everyone BEHIND HIM. There's no way this will end well.
For you gentle readers joining us mid conversation - it's midnight and I need to be at the airport in 4.5 hours. I can just see it now. (Cue the harp noises)
Scene: Emergency room
Nurse: Allergic to anything? Me: NKDA Nurse: cause of injury? Me: what's the IC10 code for "run down by drunken buffoon on motorized wheelchair?"
I saw my life and confirmed upgraded first class seats home being given away by the Mccarran gate agent flash before my eyes and my catlike reflexes kicked in and I jumped to my left into the wall, mid 1960's Las Vegas union construction being the path of least resistance. Think "The Bodyguard" with Kevin Costner.
The buffoon barely realizes what happens. Children are amazed. "HEY MOM! Look! That guy just ran into a wall!"
Me: it was that OR GET RUN DOWN BY SOME JACKASS ON A GODDAMN SCOOTER GOING FULL SPEED DRIVING LIKE A....
I look down and a midwestern nuclear family with two children of formative age are waiting for the elevator. I change my last word.
Me: LUNATIC!
I look over to the parents.
Me: I'm really sorry. This is a family joint and I shouldn't have cursed the drunken scooter driver like that. Sorry kids.
Parent: no big deal. They've heard fucking worse.
I crack a smile at her word choice. Fucking worse. Yeah. That sounds like my evening.
After jumping into a wall, I'm now wide awake and unable to go back to sleep. I make the plane and push on time. The 737 comes to a stop short of the runway and holds. Something is wrong. The pilots come on and say that they loaded more cargo and passengers than planned so they have to redo their numbers. We're waiting on the taxiway with both engines running as they do this and the waiting music comes on. What's the first song?
Whitney Houston - "I Will Always Love You"

Verified? (This bot cannot verify AMAs just yet)
Date: 2013-01-23
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Questions	Answers
Have you ever caught anyone cheating? Ever see someone cheating and not report it?	I have caught people cheating before yes. The most common are card counters and people stealing chips from other players. I highly recommend to not get completely trashed while gambling especially if you're a male and gambling by yourself as there are certain females who'd be more than happy to steal your chips while you're not paying attention.
	The only time I won't report cheating is when they're tipping. If they're a douchebag or stiff, I'll let my Pit Boss know immediately.
	Here's an interesting article on cheating in Vegas by the way.
How can you call card counting cheating?	Vegas has very liberal rules to their blackjack games compared to other cities that have casinos. Vegas offers double deck, stand on all 17s, moving down shuffle points, etc.
	I don't consider card counting cheating, but the casinos do. They are a private business. They can kick anyone off of the property for any reason unless it's illegal discrimination. The casinos don't want players to have an advantage over them.
	To be honest Vegas casinos don't care about card counting unless you're playing on a double deck. You want to play a six or eight deck shoe? It's all yours. But they want no advantage players on a double deck.
You won't report cheating if you are getting tipped, but you will report it if you don't?	I'm talking about card counting. Most card counters are douchebags because they already think they're smartemore arrogant than everyone else though so it's very rare that I'll keep my mouth shut.
We don't consider card counters cheating. We just refuse service to those who can count.	I think you're mixing up "card counting" with actually counting cards.
Who sets the specific rules of the game for say Blackjack, such as how many decks, what the little pre bet rules are, etc? Is there like a standard across Vegas? When would they ever be using a double deck?	It depends on the casino and what type of clientele they cater to.
	Certain higher end casinos will have better rules for the player while the lower end casinos will have terrible house rules.
I am not a professional card counter just good at math, what are the specific rules that you keep the deck even?	Link to en.wikipedia.org.
	The most basic system is the Hi-Lo card counting system.
	10, J, Q, K, & A = -1.
	2, 3, 4, 5, 6 = +1.
	7, 8, 9 = 0.
	With enough practice, you'll be able to figure out the count in real time.
My casino doesn't consider card counting cheating 1) because it's next to impossible to prove & 2) because with a 6 deck shoe it gives negligible advantage. i'm relatively sure that very few casinos if any consider card counting cheating.	Casinos (should) only care if you're card counting on double deck.
It seems like being able to call the odds is just part of the game and what it means to be skilled at it. I don't see how that can be called cheating.	Card counting is a dying art now anyways. With the technology casinos have their disposal, card counters can't get away with it anymore.
Can a card counter win while playing single deck?	You could, but it would be more luck than skill. Most casinos only allow 6 hands to be dealt on a single deck. Not a lot of hands to make a move imo.
I work in a casino in Melbourne Australia. . 6 deck automatic shuffler where the cards are fed back in whenever there is roughly a deck out. . and people have still tried. . its quite funny.	Seems legit.
	It's such a waste of time to try and count cards. I never gamble, but this is what I do...go with friends, get completely smashed, expect to lose the money, and have a good time.
What was the biggest tip you have ever gotten from someone?	The biggest tip I received was $250,000 from a customer. He won $10 million playing baccarat.
What is the usual tips you get from the players?	The usual tips? Most of the time I've dealt on a $100-$500 blackjack game. I'll usually make a couple hundred from each player give or take. I'll usually make 1-5 units of whatever they're playing with whether it'd be $5 chips, $25 chips, $100 chips or $500.
Do you get to keep all that?	I wish. We pool our tips every 24 hours and everyone gets a share of it. I ended up making $1000 that night. We never make money like that so don't think this is a normal occurrence for us.
	I did meet up with the customer at the strip club when I got off of work. One of the most amazing nights I've ever had.
Should have told him to keep it and tip you later that night at the club. Rookie mistake.	My regular customers do when I go to dinner or go out with them.
Are you allowed to keep all of that tip, or do they take a cut/something else?	We pool all of our tips every 24 hours so I did split it with everyone else.
How was your reaction at the table when recieving a $250,000 tip?	It threw me off. I thought he wanted change at first, but then again it was 10 $25,000 chips.
Let me get the details.	Customer paid for everything. Ended up spending about $50,000 that night mainly on alcohol. Never drank so much champagne in my life.
Could you theoretically tell the big winner to tip you when you're off the clock and keep the $250k for yourself?	I wouldn't because I would lose my job as it would be considered "hard hustling".
You had to share that with over 250 people?	The big casinos on the Strip have a lot of dealers in a 24 hour shift.
	At Cosmo, on the weekdays there are about 150 dealers in a 24 hour shift. On the weekends, it can be close to 250-300 dealers and Cosmo is a small casino compared to the rest.
Does this violate any policy the casino might have about interacting with customers?	Technically no. The only thing the casino reminds you is to not be seen gambling with the customer at other casinos and that you're still responsible for your own actions.
You must have been real popular that night.	Bitches love money especially strippers.
Yeah I notice whenever I tip a dealer he/she puts in a slot, so I was thinking how would they know how much each dealer got,	Regardless, it's still the right thing to do if they're providing you a service. Thanks for tipping :)
I'm curious. Since on a night where you received an exorbitant tip and only made $1,000, what is your average tip out per day/week/weekend? Also, what is the largest amount that you yourself have walked out with in a single night? Are you tipped out daily, or is it added to your paycheck? If it is done by paycheck; largest tip out at the end of a paycheck?	At the big casinos (Wynn/Encore, Cosmopolitan, Aria, Caesars) the dealers usually make $150-$200 a night during the weekdays. On the weekends, they'll make around $200-$300+.
	The medium casinos (Bellagio, Planet Hollywood, Paris, Mandalay Bay, MGM Grand) will make around $120-$150 during the weekdays, $150-$200 on the weekends.
	I personally can't accept tips while at work. Outside of work, regular customers would throw me some extra cash on the side on top of whatever they gave me at the table while they were playing. The most someone gave me outside of work was $1000. It was a regular customer.
Of all the celebrity players you've dealt to, which one seemed the most genuine and cool person to interact with.	Coolest would easily be Matt Schaub. 99% of athletes are douchebags, but he's super nice and super cool. Awesome tipper too. Down to earth and extremely humble. Runners up goes to Chris Evans. Captain America can't handle his alcohol and is an arrogant prick too. "Do you know who the fuck I am?" was probably his most overheard line while I was dealing to him. 2nd runners up goes to Chef Tim Love. He's a stiff and a cry baby. Constantly boasts about all the $10,000 bottles of wine he drinks.
Who was the worst and why?	Ironically the worst would be Will Farrell. The guy is a huge asshole when he's gambling and the camera's off. Huge prick.
As a huge Redskins fan, I notice DeAngelo Hall has some attitude issues on the field. Was he any nicer when you dealt to him?	Really nice guy. From my experience, he plays by himself and doesn't have a huge entourage like most athletes do. Even when he loses, he doesn't have an attitude problem.
That's pretty disappointing. Will Farrell is one of my favorite actors and I always assumed he'd be a cool, down to earth guy off-camera. Oh well, it's not like I'll ever see him in real life anyway. But if I do, I'll know to punch him in the balls.	You know who is also a cool guy that surprised me? Rush Limbaugh.
	The guy is an awesome tipper and kind of cool to talk to even though he's an extreme right-winger.
If a celebrity ever said "Do you know who the fuck I am?", I would instantly say something along the lines "Why should I give a fuck who you are?"	I pretty much said that to Chris Evans every time he said that.
Maybe in public but go have dinner with his family in Springfield, MO-- Racial slurs everywhere!	Any stories you'd like to tell me?
What was your impression of D Rose?	Derrick Rose is a cool guy. Played a little bit of blackjack and roulette with Durant.
	Hope is ACL is good to go now :(
Doesn't Tebow know gambling is a sin???	I wasn't going to ask him that especially with the Broncos offensive line surrounding him.
How many times have you heard someone say 'Vegas baby!' or 'you're so money' when Vince Vaughn was at the tables?	Never.
	You know what I hear the most and is like nails on a chalkboard for casino employees?
	"WINNER WINNER CHICKEN DINNER!"
I am going to go to every single casino and scream winner winner chicken dinner. When I finally get punched in the face I'll know it's you. Then we can go party with some celebs at the strip club. Deal?	Seems legit.
Do you get the asians who yell monkey who want a 10 in blackjack? It seems like 90% of asians in the casino I frequent do this.	Gamblers scream out monkey regardless of their race. White, black, asian, spanish, etc.
Whats the most money you've seen lost by one person in a day?	Craps - $5 million.
	Blackjack - $5 million.
	Baccarat - $10 million.
	European Roulette - $2 million.
Just out of my own curiousity, was it an asian person that lost $10 million on baccarat?	You are correct. A Chinese businessman to be exact.
Holy shit that's crazy! How often do you see someone lose money in the millions?	I deal to million dollar players quite often. But getting their ass handed to them? Not that often. I want to say like every 3-4 weeks.
	Players win often and players do lose often, but it's rare to see them tap their line.
What's the usual reaction when someone loses money > million?	I've seen customers smash glasses, break things, punch the wall, punch the roulette readerboard, etc. They usually keep their cool most of the time, but once in a while...
	"OMG WTF ARE YOU KIDDING? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING DUDEITSPANDA! THIS IS SOME FUCKING BULLSHIT. I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS JUST HAPPENED TO ME. YOU ARE THE WORST DEALER EVER. YOU GIVE ME THE WORST FUCKING HANDS ON BLACKJACK. WHY DO I EVEN PLAY THIS STUPID FUCKING GAME!!!"
WHY DO I EVEN PLAY THIS STUPID FUCKING GAME!!!	Most players like to play Captain Obvious or Captain Hindsight.
Maybe the only important thought the person should be considering. Hah.	"DAMN IT I SHOULDN'T HAVE BET THAT MUCH. DAMN IT I SHOULD HAVE BET MORE!"
Heh, I've seen that happen at the $5 tables in Indian casinos in Michigan while waiting for a seat in the poker room.	I usually just giggle whenever a $5-$10 players loses $100-$200 bucks.
	"Is it really the end of the world losing $200?" is typically what I tell them.
How are high-limit dealers paid? Salaried? Benefits? Would you be willing to say how much (ballpark) high-stakes dealers make in a year? what about low-stakes? Are dealers allowed to gamble in the casino they work for? Thanks, this is a sweet AmA.	Dealers are paid the same regardless of what games they play and it's minimum wage. Yes you heard it...casinos only pay us minimum wage. We rely completely on tips.
	Casinos are normally run businesses so full time employees are offered insurance, 401k, vacation time, etc.
	Dealers are NOT allowed to gamble in the casino they work for. It's mainly to prevent collusion. Dealers are allowed to play slots in the casino they work for, but cannot play anything with a progressive jackpot (Megabucks, Wheel of Fortune, etc.). Dealers are allowed to play whatever they want in any other casino.
I think it's pretty awesome that dealers get a 401k and insurance. That plus the decent money you mentioned below make dealing sound like a pretty awesome job.	It isn't that bad of a job, but dealing to douchebags and degenerates wears on you after a while.
What are the best casinos and hotels in Las Vegas? As in the top 5 casino/hotels? What is your favorite and why?	Wynn Las Vegas/Encore
Oh and why are there hundreds of Mexican people handing out those cards for prostitutes on the street and allowed to just litter the whole strip with them?	The loiters have first amendment rights basically. They changed the law this year so now whenever cards they pass out fall to the ground, they're supposed to pick them up. I was never too happy with the escort ads on the Strip. 1. The girls don't actually provide the service most of the time. They're just there to rip off guys. 2. It puts a negative light on the city.
Thanks for the answer. I was in vegas for about 3 days staying at circus circus (don't laugh) and the first night we walked the whole strip (i had no idea it would take that long) and it really annoyed me to see the streets just littered with the prostitute cards.	We Vegas locals don't like it either trust me. We also don't like those stupid street performers that are on the Strip. The only one that's cool in my book is the guy that will let you kick him in the nuts for $20.
How much do you think the avg "street performer" say for example, the dudes wearing Mario and Luigi costumes r the Tranformer guys would make in a night?	No clue. Maybe get one of them to do an AMA?
This might be a longshot, but one time I was there, there was this older black guy in a motorized chair that had this little speakemic/beatbox thing and would freestyle about you and your group (for a tip) and he was phenominal. It was a hightlight of the trip. I've been back a couple of times and always look for him but never find him. Do you know if he's still around/popular?	Nope. Never seen the guy.
What's your flexibility on game pacing, in Blackjack for example?	There is plenty of flexibility on game pace. Casinos instruct dealers to deal at a moderate pace. Not too fast where you seem like a robot and not slow enough where players will fall asleep at the table.
Tl;dr: does the house allow you to deal fewer hands-per-hour in high-limit? If so, why are some dealers doucheclowns about it?	The best scenario for you if you want to play slightly high limit blackjack are blackjack pits that are outside of high limit. It's basically high limit without the title. They're usually $100 6-deck shoe games that stand on all 17s.
Baccarat, on the other hand... shit, I need a book to pass the time. Whoever installs video poker machines into Baccarat tables is going to make a killing.	Dealers are going to be douchebags no matter what. From my personal experience, if I deal fast...I'm trying to get rid of you.
Though my restaurant right now doesn't have it, we do have tip outs to runner ,bussers and bar. Do any casinos impliment this policy? Do you see yourself making a career out of this?	Casinos have tried to implied a tip out policy as a way to subsidize other wages with dealers tips, but it has failed. Wynn Las Vegas/Encore is in court with the dealers right now over it. Wynn won initially, but it got overturned and looks to stay that way. I don't see myself making a career out of it. Casinos are now run by corporations. The way they treat their employees is ridiculous. They show no dedication to us.
In your opinion - what's the best strategy for Craps?	Pass line with full odds. Come bets with full odds as well.
Pass line bets and taking odds on it after the come out? Boxcars, Snake Eyes, Big 6's, Horn High Yo's?	You can place bet, but the edge is still high for the house.
I'm curious too hear what a dealer thinks about this.	Stay away from the prop box at all times. The only time I'll mess around with the prop box is if I throw let's say $1 hardways and ask to parlay at least once if it hits.
Do you know of other dealers who have ever completely lost their cool at a high risk table when either a large amount of money has come into play, or some big time celebrity has come to their table?	Happens all the time. I've seen dealers sweat profusely like they just finished doing cardio on the treadmill, seen dealers completely freeze up or seen dealers crack under the pressure.
	I've seen a couple get in trouble because they tried to take a picture with them after they go on break. That's a huge no-no.
Are the high limit tables the most desirable tables to work? Are dealers sometimes reprimanded by removing them from a high limit table and placing them at a low limit table? (similar to getting a shitty section in a restaurant/bar)	Physically yes. You'll most likely be on a reserved game. The customer doesn't play the majority of the time while you're on shift. So instead of dealing for 8 hours straight, in high limit you might deal one or two hours. The rest of the time you're just hanging out and watching whatever they have on the TV.
Are you a gambler yourself? If so, has working as a dealer improved your game any?	Dealers do get reprimanded and sometimes even get kicked out of high limit for a extended period of time. It has never happened to me, but one day you'll see a dealer dealing to a BIG player. They make a huge mistake and the next day they're on casino war or the Big 6 wheel.
They make a huge mistake.	In the business we call it a jackpot. Jackpot is basically a small mistake that turns into a big mistake.
Like what?	Dealer make mistakes all the time. Wrong payout, messed on the procedure, etc.
What route would you recommend for anyone wanting to get into working as a dealer? Can you give us a brief outline of your rise to the high stakes table?	Go to a dealers school. Learn the basics of dealing, handling chips and game protection. I learned blackjack and craps. It takes about four-eight weeks depending on how fast of a learner you are and how often you show up to school to practice. It took me about five weeks.
	Once you're sufficient enough, you can apply to audition at a low end casino also known as a "break in house." Historically, casinos Downtown such as the El Cortez are well known break in houses for new dealers. Shitty local casinos are also considered break in houses as well. You don't make any money, but it doesn't matter. The whole point is to get experience dealing on a real live game.
	While you're dealing at the break in house, you can learn how to deal all the other games. That's how I learned baccarat and roulette. Once you get enough experience, you start trying to move to better casinos until eventually you get a good, full time job on the Strip.
How long did it take you to move up from a "break in house" to the limelight on the Strip? What's the average?	For most dealers it takes forever. They don't have the skill set or have the connections...aka "juice" as we call it in the business.
	It only took me about two-three years, but for most it can take from five-ten years.
I love playing blackjack at the El Cortez! $5, single deck, 3:2 games.	El Cortez is fun. I love hanging out at the bars next to it.
"You don't make any money"... can you give us a ballpark on what you made at the break-in and how much you make now, including tips?	Break-in dealers barely make $30,000 a year.
Wow, that's a long time to work your way up to a (relatively) low paying job. You said in an earlier reply that high end dealers only make $200-$300 on a weekend night, right? I made close to that in my first bartending gig when I was still in college.	You're probably right. But like I told you, the best dealer jobs pay around $85k a year. It's about $325 a day give or take.
What would you say set you apart from the other dealers? Are you more talented (by which I mean you're just naturally smartebetter) or is it a difference in work ethic or what? If it's a work ethic thing, do you think that had you applied yourself to something else with the same level of dedication you could have succeeded, or have you just been in the right place at the right time consistently?	Glad that you enjoyed the AMA.
Also, as someone who generally does not like AMAs in the last ~2 years, yours has been both informative and interesting. Cheers.	What sets me apart from most dealers is that I have the skill to deal the games properly while being quick on my feet with calculations and knowing what the players feelings are like at the time. Sometimes dealers can talk to the players while sometimes players just want you to shut up and deal. Just got to know when the situation is right for certain things.
Ever seen a grown man cry?	Yes. It's pathetic that a guy can guy from gambling, but yes I have.
Ever hear about someone killing themselves after walking away from your table?	Yes. I tell them they're full of shit which they are 99.9% of the time. They're desperate for attention after they lose.
How funny was Will Ferrel?	Not funny. I was expecting Elf or Stepbrothers, but got Casa de Mi Padre.
Could you tell us how the upper management of the casino works? I guess start with the dealers. I know you guys have pit bosses, but then who is above them? Who reports to who? Who is in contact with the surveillance room? I don't care about the hotel management.	Dealers report to Floor Supervisors. Floor supervisors report to Pit Boss. Pit Boss reports to Shift Manager. Shift Manager reports to Table Games Director.
Did you ever get beat up by joey porter at applebees?	For those that don't know, here's my interaction with Joey Porter.
	I haven't got jumped by Joey Porter...yet. He liked me and other dealers on his game that night. I think he still wants to beat the shit out of my shift boss and pit boss. My shift boss still hasn't eaten at a Applebee's or even a Chili's yet since then.
Yo, man. I been looking for you!	DO YOU EVEN LIFT BRO?
How was Joe Flacco?	He was cool. Not a big player. Kept asking me where he can find a $15 blackjack game haha.
NBA fan here. Did you have any memorable interactions with either James, Wade, or Durant? How was Derrick Rose?	No real memorable interactions. I just loved busting LeBron's balls before he got his first ring.
	I remember before Derrick Rose got serious media attention, I remember telling him two years ago "I like how you're an amazing basketball player, but no one recognizes you right now". Not the case now.
	Kevin Durant is a nice guy.
Have you seen or heard of any casinos that actually rig games?	Nope. Even though most casino managers are idiots in my opinion, they wouldn't be stupid enough to rig a game. Not only would they would lose their gaming license, the casino would get a huge fine and could possibly lose their license as well.
	One thing I tell players if they're gambling...gamble only if there's a gaming commission. You don't even know how many times I've heard stories of players getting screwed over by Indian casinos or cruise ships because there are no gaming commissions overseeing them.
UK here - what's the deal with Indian casinos? clearly they're less regulated - are native Americans known for running 'shady' joints?	I'm not saying that Indian casinos are completely shady...they just do shady things once in a while when the players aren't noticing it.
I always wondered how casino workers were able to handle working in a smoking environment all day. Is there a high rate of respiratory problems with casino workers? Tips for dealing with the smoke?	I don't smoke personally. It's brutal. I try to do more cardio than weightlifting to make up for it.
	My allergies have gotten worse since I started dealing. Whenever I'm on a game, I just try to move the ashtrays in a certain position so I don't get hit with all the smoke.
Obvious question--what kind of experience do casinos require before you're given the keys to a high stakes table?	It's mainly just being able to handle the high action. Dealers tend to freeze up a lot when they see big numbers in front of them. It's also being able to control your game regardless of who is playing on it and regardless of how much they're betting.
Do they make you do a whole back ground check and a lie detector test like they show in movies? i know.. stupid question. just curious.	We get background checked when we apply for our gaming card and when we apply for a new job. We also get hair drug tested and have a credit check done as well.
	Casinos only hire employees with good credit. It shows that the employees are responsible with their money and less susceptible to collusion.
I have a strong interest in playing and dealing cards. Have since I was a kid. How much does dealing become a grind as opposed to something you don't mind doing? I haven't hit that point yet dealing in home games.	It honestly becomes a grind the second you start working. It's exciting the first couple of years because you're seeing new bets or action you haven't dealt with yet on the game, but after a while it becomes the same.
Which of the soccer players that you dealt with won the most?	Probably Rooney. I think he won like $300k. Soccer players aren't big gamblers generally. They just like to hang out at the pool, go clubbing once in a while and do a little bit of gambling.
What was Wayne Rooney like in person? He always seems like a dick to me. Also, how much do you earn?	He's a nice guy. Takes pictures with fans and socializes with everyone.
	Dealers at the most popular casinos (Aria, Wynn/Encore, Cosmopolitan, Caesars) can make $80,000+ a year.
	Dealers that work at the medium properties (MGM Grand, Mandalay Bay, Bellagio, Paris, Planet Hollywood) make around $60,000-$80,000 a year.
What is the most you have seen a person win?	$10 million on baccarat. The customer was playing $175,000 a hand on baccarat.
Baccarat didn't seem to big when I was in Vegas a few years ago, has it picked up?	Baccarat has picked up a lot in Vegas. All the big casinos have baccarat now.
I was a dealer in Australia, high stakes as well and the average for some customers was $2000+. Not bragging or anything, just wondering if Vegas is working on getting the Asian baccarat junkets a bit harder these says.	The problem with baccarat junkets is that the players just rotate between casino to casino. They take advantage of baccarat tournaments and whatever promos they have. The junkets technically don't bring in any new business and they get paid a huge chunk of whatever the player's theoretical is.

Last updated: 2013-01-27 19:42 UTC
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