I like Bob Dancer...no, edit that...
I, like Bob Dancer, take Pot Shots. I was a blackjack card counter with only
a elementary knowledge of advantage video poker, for purposes of comps, when
the following Pot Shot story happened. Those of you that have been around
read most of this back then. I guess you could say I got my start as a
dedicated VP player from a lucky Pot Shot.
Becky
How CNBC Helped Me Win at Slots
I came out to Las Vegas a couple of days ahead of my husband and friends.
It was supposed to be fun. This was when the stock market was in a
free-fall crash. Even though I won almost a thousand dollars the first
night, all I could think about was how much money my portfolio had lost the
previous couple of weeks. AOL, my largest holding, was down 50%. What was I
doing here? Not even a comped dinner changed my mood. I was so bummed I
went to bed at 9:00 PM.
At dawn, the desert sun glared through my unclosed curtains. I burrowed
under my pillow trying to escape the unnatural brightness. Then I remembered
it was Monday. The stock market would be open. Ahhhhh! It's three hours
later on the East Coast, it's already open. What was happening? Had the
devastation stopped? I was desperate for news on my portfolio and the market
in general. CNBC was not on the cable TV in the room, so I wandered
downstairs to the casino without even showering.
I cruised the casino looking for sports bars, but they sat empty, with
their multiple overhead cable TVs remaining black. What's wrong with these
people? There's not enough early morning drinkers in this town to keep the
bars open? When I finally found an open bar, the bartender changed channels
to my beloved CNBC and asked if I wanted coffee. I sat on the barstool. I
could drink my morning coffee, watch the continuous stream of stock prices
march across the bottom of the screen, and play a little bar-top video poker,
all at the same time. AOL was up several points. It just doesn't get any
better than this. I already felt like a winner.
I pulled a hundred-dollar bill from my purse, a reasonable buy in for a
dollar machine. But wait. These aren't dollar machines...they're all FIVE
dollar machines. If I play the max five coins, every hand will cost $25.
And you can't win the progressive jackpot if you don't play the max. Shoot!
But the coffee was steaming, the bartender was friendly, and the stock
market looked like it might make back some of its recent losses. And then,
there was that $26,000 progressive - I sure don't see THAT on my $1 machines.
Oh, well. I'll just try it with ONE hundred, I rationalized. But, since
there was that large progressive, I decided to take my very diminished
chances and play the full five $5 coins at a time, giving me a bankroll of
only four hands.
I got lucky early when I was dealt a full house. That gave me money to
play on. I was soon comfortable, playing at my regular speed, almost
forgetting that these were not $1 credits. I cheered my stocks on to new
highs while the bartender kept my coffee hot and cheered me on. I was his
only early morning customer. It was fun. I hit several quads (four of a
kind) for $625 each. Twice, it spit coins out at me when my winnings
exceeded the credits the machine could hold. Twice the change boy took a
single rack of the $5 coins and brought me back $500 in cash. I kept telling
the bartender "This is an inCREDDDDible machine!"
After an hour and half of playing on my original $100, I had racked up
mongo comp points, I had cashed in $1,000, and still had $400 in credits.
Then my two high spades filled for the Royal Flush. I did it. $26,000.
Ohmygod.
Driver's license and social security card were shown. Forms were filled
out. Photos were taken. After a brief interview, they said I'd see my name
···
on their marquee and my photo in their next magazine. I tipped the bartender and change boy handfuls of the heavy $5 coins. They wanted to give me two hundred and sixty $100 bills! They said
they'd have a security guard escort me to my room. "THEN WHAT?" I answered.
"I don't think so!" I insisted that they write me a check. There was no
one in the casino at 8:00 am authorized to sign a check that size so I got a
voucher for a check to pick up later. But they could give me
cash...unbelievable.
I called my husband, still back in Texas at work, and swore him to
secrecy. I wanted to tell our friends myself when he arrived with them the
next day.
As we loaded their luggage into my car at the airport, I casually told
them I had a photo of me doing two of my favorite things - playing video poker
and watching CNBC. They each looked at the photo and agreed it was cool. I
said "Look closer." One of them recognized the blonde anchor. "Why do
casinos take your photo?" I hinted. The more experienced gambler in the
group grabbed the photo and asked "How much did you win? All I see is the
progressive. Ahhhhhh! $26,000!? You didn't? Did you?" Much shouting and
hugging and flailing of arms ensued. For two days they followed me around,
bowing, while chanting "We are not worthy." In restaurants they would beg to
see and touch the check again. Their excitement made it as much fun as
winning all over again.
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]