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Inside Underground NY Poker #9
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If you'd like to see this story get produced, please consider pledging to my Patreon. More details there. The link is https://www.patreon.com/undergroundpoker Thank you for all of your support. Previous: Inside Underground NY Poker #8 Spades — 1.8 Walking into a casino, for the first time, can be quite an overwhelming experience. There’s so much going on — all of the flashing lights, various sounds, the diverse amount of people flowing throughout, the list goes on. No matter where you look, there’s always something going on that can potentially pique your curiosity. Of course, at this time in the midsummer of 2007, I hadn’t a clue of what to expect. I had yet to step foot inside a real casino. When Chris called and invited me to go with him on a road trip up to Turning Stone, my mood was not only of excitement, it was also flowing with curiosity. I figured that making the drive up to Turning Stone would not only be a great deal of fun, but would also be an excellent opportunity to learn more about professional casino poker. During my phone conversation with Chris, we agreed that we would make the road trip up there after we finished our Sunday shifts at Spades. This gave us about 24 hours to gather up our buddies and put together a crew. Our main goal was to crush some live action cash games there, but we also wanted to let loose and party. I didn’t yet know it, but my version of partying was vastly different from Chris’ version. I made some calls and sent some texts, and not too long after, had a few of my closest friends confirm that they were going to come on the trip. I was the youngest of my social circle in high school, still being only 17 at the time. All of the other guys were already 18, so legally, they wouldn’t have a problem at Turning Stone. If you don’t know, Turning Stone Resort & Casino is located on an Indian Reservation, and as such, the gambling laws of New York state do not apply there — the legal gambling age there is 18, as set by the law of the land. Now, since I was still only 17, this presented a potential problem. However, I looked a bit older than I actually was, and I also had a fake ID that I had been using for a while. Chris was also incredibly confident that it wouldn’t be a problem whatsoever — he even offered to lay me a bet with 3 to 1 odds for $100, that at no point would I be unable play because of my age. I declined the bet of course, not wanting to jinx myself. In 2007, Turning Stone was a “dry” casino, which meant that they didn’t serve any alcohol. However, you were allowed to bring your own, and could indulge yourself to your own desire. As of today, this is no longer the case, but that’s the way it was back then. We calculated that the drive would take us about 4.5 hours, not entirely too long by road trip standards, but could be enough of a mental strain that could potentially effect our ability to play poker, upon arrival. Given that both Chris and I would be dealing right up until our departure, we had made arrangements to take two cars in order to accommodate our entire crew. In exchange for each of us paying for the gas and tolls on the drive up to Turning Stone, neither of us would have to drive — this would allow us to rest up a bit. My group of buddies consisted of four of my closest friends — Brian, Theo, Max, and Scott. I had brought Theo around to Spades more than a few times, and he regularly played poker, unlike the others. However, he wasn’t very good, but he was very lucky, and he had no interest in studying the game. He got better the more he played, but was by all means, a fish. He loved to gamble, and blackjack was his favorite game — most likely not a coincidence. I had invited Andy to tag along as well, but he wasn’t interested and declined — he instead made me a standing offer, an open invitation if you will, to go crush poker in Atlantic City, where there was better action and nicer casinos. However, the offer was only good if we would be going to seriously grind poker. This was an offer that I would later redeem. Chris had assembled his boys just as I had — three experienced poker players and gamblers, each in their early 20’s, just like Chris. The youngest of his crew was Rich, who was 21, and the two others were Derek and Joe, either 23 or 24 years old. Finally, our plans were set and the rooms were booked. We’d all be staying for 3 nights and 2 days in two, separate, 2 queen bed suites. I was anxious, yet excited, and I seriously wanted to book a win in the poker room, considering it would be my first casino poker room session. Sunday finally arrives, and I had decided to wake up a few hours early so that I could stock up on booze and weed. My buddies and I had agreed to split the cost of everything — 4 bottles of Smirnoff, an ounce of Sour Diesel, and four 24-packs of Coors Light. In retrospect, this was probably entirely too much for 3 nights at a casino, but what did we know? I wasn’t a big smoker at the time, although I would partake, but I did enjoy drinking when the time was appropriate to let loose. While on my way driving to Spades, I hear my phone ring — it’s Chris. “Hey dude, you on your way to the club?” “Yeah, I’ll be there in about 15 minutes. I just finished running some last minute errands, stocked up on booze and weed for the trip.” “Awesome. I’m good to go on my end, too. By the way, my plan is to splash around in the $1/$2 or $2/$5 games Turning Stone spreads. I’m bringing $10k.” “What?! $10k??? Why?!” “Well, dude, I’m gonna hit the pits too and play some blackjack and craps. We’ll crush some poker first, then afterwards maybe you’ll hit the pits with me.” “I dunno, man. I’m only gonna bring $2k in total, and that’s for all my costs. Maybe I’ll assign half of that to my poker roll for the trip.” “You should probably stick to $1/$2 then, and save some of your roll for blackjack, to try and run it up.” “Alright, sounds good. I’ll see you at the club in a bit.” I wasn’t convinced about hitting the pits to play table games, but then again, I surely wanted to make the most out of my first casino experience. I arrive at Spades, set up for the Sunday afternoon tournament, and put in the hours for my shift. I wind up dealing the final table, and the tournament ends at around 11PM. Chris was dealing cash, but we had both made sure to get Vinny’s approval to leave early and take off for the next few days. It wasn’t really an issue for me, being that once the tournament was over, it meant my job was done, and I was free to have a good night. However, Chris made sure to get another dealer to cover for him, both the rest of the night and until we got back from our trip. Chris and I walk outside to the parking lot — it’s time to go pick everyone up. We each get into our cars and drive off to scoop up each one of our buddies. An hour or so later, I shoot Chris a text letting him know that I’m about to start the drive up to Verona, NY, which was where Turning Stone is located. He responds, telling me that he had already started the journey about 10 minutes prior, and that he’ll call me when he gets there. I have Theo take the wheel and get into the driver’s seat, as I jump into the back to close my eyes to try and clear my head for what’s about to come. Without making any stops, we finish the drive in just under 4.5 hours. We can see the illuminated, brightly colored sign — “Turning Stone Casino”, and my heart begins to pump just a little bit faster. I’m beginning to get excited. At this point, it was around 4:30AM. Sure, I was a bit tired, but the excitement and novelty of my first casino experience was keeping my adrenaline pumping. I give Chris a call, letting him know that we’re about to park our car, and head into the casino towards the check-in area. “Chris, we’re here man! This place is awesome!” “I know dude, we got here about a half hour ago. I’m in my room changing, getting ready to go play some cards. Did you check-in yet?” “Not yet, we’re about to head over to the check-in desk and get our room keys. I’m pretty tired man, are you sure it’s a good idea to go play right now?” “Don’t worry about that, I already scoped out the room. There’s some good action going on in both $1/$2 and $2/$5. I already put our name’s on the lists. Text me when you’re done getting settled in, but drop by room after. Make sure you come alone.” “Okay… I’m gonna tell my boys that we’re gonna play some poker for a little bit, while they hit the casino floor. My buddy Theo might want to join us. I’m not sure though, I have to ask him. My boys will probably want to get nice and toasty before they head out of the room.” “Sounds good dude, don’t take too long. See you in a bit.” My friend Scott handles the check-in, puts the incidentals coverage under his credit card, and I make sure to get a copy of the room key for myself. We head up to the room, we all change into presentable, formal, evening attire, and I crack open a beer, along with everyone else. I ask everyone what they plan on doing for the next few hours, while suggesting that I’ll be preoccupied playing cards in the poker room. This was nothing but expected, they all knew how often I played poker. Everyone unanimously agrees that they want to hit the pits and gamble, of course, after they get hammered in the room. I casually ask Theo if he’s interested in playing poker with Chris and I, but he declines, saying that he’s not in the mood and would rather play tomorrow night, if at all. I finish my beer, but not before forcing everyone to agree to a bet, in order to make things more interesting — whoever comes back to the room as the biggest loser gets $50 each from everyone else. We unanimously decide that it’s actually a decent idea, and everyone agrees. I leave our room and head towards Chris’ suite. I arrive at Chris’ door, and I give it quick, but firm knock. A few seconds later, the door opens, and I find that there’s nobody in the room except Chris. All of his buddies had already gone downstairs, and were gambling on the casino floor. I tell him I’m pretty tired, and then I ask him why he wanted me to come alone. “Chris, I’m pretty tired, man. You sure we should go play?” “100%. I told you, I already scoped out the games that are running. The stacks are big and there’s some good money to be made.” “Alright, fine. But, why did you want me to come here alone, by the way? Is everything alright?” “Yeah, dude. Here, I wanted to give you this. Take two of these, you’ll be in the zone while you play for the next 8 hours.” “What kind of pills are these? What are they going to do?” — I had never really taken drugs or pills before, other than drinking and smoking weed occasionally. I did, however, try Mushrooms earlier during the summer, and that was fun, but was completely inexperienced when it came to pharmaceuticals, or any other drugs for that matter. “It’s Adderall, it’s a stimulant. They’re 20mg each, take two of them. It’ll make you much more focused and able to concentrate on the game for the next 8 hours or so. You might feel a bit more chatty, and it’ll kill your appetite, but I promise you, it’ll give you an edge. All those players down there right now are tired and worn out from playing. These will put you in the zone, if you know what I mean.” “Fuck it, I’ll give it a shot. We came to have a good time anyway. I’m not gonna lose control of myself, am I?” “Hah, no, dude. It’s nothing like that. They prescribe this stuff to people who have trouble focusing and paying attention. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. You’ll feel them start to work in about 45 minutes to an hour.” Chris hands me two, orange-colored, oval shaped pills, and I swallow them dry. I had stashed $1k into the safe in my room before I left, and I had the other $1k in my pocket. We leave his room and head downstairs to make our way through the casino and into the poker room. I was in a state of awe. This was by far the biggest poker room I had ever been in, up until this point. There must have been at least 30 tables. There were only a handful of games going during our arrival, but still, seeing everything all neat, organized, and ready for action, made me think about what this place would be like during peak hours. I check out the $1/$2 game that’s going, and I see that the buy-in structure is not at all what I was expecting. It’s a $50 min and $200 max. Sure, there’s a few deep stacks on the table, but I felt like this game was much smaller than what I was used to playing. I decide that it’s going to be far too difficult to make any significant amount of money, unless I end up on the good side of a cooler. Overall, it would be a bad move to sit in this game. On the other hand, the $2/$5 game that was running had a $200 min and $500 max buy-in. This was definitely more up my alley. Several players had stacks with at least $1k, and the average was probably right around the max, conveniently right around $500. With several players sitting deep and a couple of short stacks on the table, I come to the conclusion that this is the game I want to play, as I’m fairly certain that I have a decent shot at making some money at this table. Chris had already put our name’s on the lists for both games when he had arrived earlier, so it wasn’t too long until our names were called. We were going to be sitting at the same table, and of course, made an agreement that if we were to get heads-up in a hand, either of us would make only one bet, and then check it down the rest of the way if the other called the bet. We weren’t there to take each other’s rolls, but if there were other players in the hand, then we weren’t going to soft play each other, nor try and sandwich anyone out of a pot. Finally, my name is called, about 20 minutes after Chris had taken his seat, and I head over to the cage to buy $500 worth of chips — $280 in red, $200 in green, and $20 in white. Something I’ve always liked doing, still to this day, is buying at least a full stack of $1 chips. The poker room had relatively nice chips, and I found them to be most excellent. They had a comfortable weight, handled nicely, and displayed a decent aesthetic design on them. They were definitely of a higher quality than any of the chips that the underground clubs used. That’s not to say that the clubs used cheap chips — of course, a few did, however only the casinos would purchase Paulson chips, which are the industry standard, despite them costing over $1 each chip. I take my seat at the table, and all of a sudden, I feel this intense rush of energy. It felt like someone had turned my brain up to 11. Woah — I felt my eyes widen. I introduce myself to the table, and I notice that I’m much more talkative than my normal self. However, I was able to maintain and participate in a fully-engaged conversation, while not missing a single detail of the action that was unfolding during each hand. I could multi-task like never before. I was faster at thinking through hands, I noticed more tells being telegraphed than ever before, and I was aware of the fact that my observations were razor-sharp. It felt like I had been wearing blinders up until this point, and now they were gone. I was more astute than I had ever been before, accurately being able to predict who was going to play a hand, and who was going to fold, before they even made their action. I was paying attention to the game in the same way I would as if I was dealing it. I’d observe each player in turn, then move on to the next when their action was made. I would also catch things out of the corner of my eye — a player’s posture suddenly becoming erect, while they would then immediately try to look disinterested, as they used their hands to protect their cards in such a manner that was subtle, yet distinct from their normal method of handling their cards. It was blatantly obvious to me now, when a player would deviate from their normal patterns of playing, behaving, speaking, bet sizing, time usage, and so forth. I was playing really well. All of my value bets were getting called, my bluffs were getting through, and alarm bells would ring in my head, either to alert me of a perfect spot to make a squeeze play, or if something about the hand didn’t “seem right”. Something I definitely noticed about the Adderall, was that it made me feel much more confident in the plays that I made. It was much easier to pull the trigger, and when I did, I felt certain that my timing was right. My range was also wider than it normally was. I was playing more hands, going for thin value on the river when I would normally check back, and had no problem laying down strong hands preflop, when I was sure I was behind, but would normally be too stubborn to let it go. My session was going very well. Incredibly well, in fact. I made several huge hero calls, and I applied intense pressure on opponents who I deemed capable of folding, only to pick up pots I could never win at showdown. About 3.5 hours had gone by at this point, and within the last hour a new player had taken a seat. His name was Duke, at least, that’s what other players were calling him. This guy was super aggro. He was opening every other hand, raising every C-Bet a player would make, and would just bully people out of the pot by shoving the river or bombing the turn with a $300 bet. The majority of the table was getting annoyed with Duke. Whenever they would fold, they felt like he was bluffing with air, however, when they would inevitably get frustrated and make the call, he would actually have it, and get massive value. During the course of about an hour, he amassed a stack totaling around $900. He had absolutely no fear, and the money at stake, to him, was evidently insignificant. From his perspective, it seemed as if he was playing for, what you and I, would consider pennies. I folded quite a few strong hands to his preflop 3-bets — AQ, TT, 88, and QJs. I would open to $15 or $20, and he would re-pop me to 4x or 5x. I even open folded AKo on an Ace-high, 3-flush board on the turn when he check-raised me all-in, only to show me complete air. That was enough for me, this wasn’t going to continue — not tonight. I had now decided that I was going to be as patient as necessary, and only get involved in a pot with him if the situation was favorable to trap him. You can’t bully a player when the money at stake means far less to him than it does to you. Subsequently, you can’t get value from that same player who is good enough to recognize that you’re only showing him aggression when you have it — they’ll just fold instead of blasting off, knowing that you’re praying that they’ll come over the top. About an hour and a half later, it was around 10AM now, and I had built my stack up to around $1200. Duke was sitting on just about the same, though slightly less, about $1100. He was still bullying people out of pots, and the majority, if not everyone else at the table was clearly annoyed with him. Low limit players often become angry when they encounter an opponent whose style of play isn’t within the same paradigm as their own. The key is to be capable of adjusting your own style of play. Finally, preparation meets opportunity, and I pick up pocket Aces in UTG+1. I raise to $15, and of course get 3-bet by Duke in the Lojack to $60. The button cold calls, and for a split-second, I almost 4-bet, but I resisted what almost felt like a reflex, and decided to just call. The flop comes A5A — I flop Quad Aces! That was the first time I ever flopped quads, let alone quad aces. I stick to my game plan of trapping, and I check my quads over to Duke, who also checks. The button checks as well, and we see a turn of a black 4. The board now being A5A4 rainbow — every fiber of my being is burning on the inside, trying to tell me to start getting some value and make a bet to build a pot. Again, I resist, and check it. Both Duke and the button check back. The river comes in, a red 9. The complete board run-out is A5A49 rainbow. I check, again, for the 3rd time. Duke fires out $200 into the pot of $187, the button snap folds, and I immediately snap-shove on him for a total of around $1140. He looks completely perplexed, and then goes deep into the tank. Not a single player had yet displayed this level of aggression against him. He’s now been thinking for about 6 or 7 minutes, and he announces to the table that he’s sorry he’s taking so long, but he needs some more time and has a decision here. Some random player chimes in, telling him to take all the time he wants, it’s the biggest pot of the night. Another 3 minutes go by, and I’m starting to get agitated now. It’s been at least 10 minutes, the dealer is clearly annoyed, enough is enough. I call for the clock. The floor comes over and gives Duke the “countdown” speech, informing him that he has 30 seconds to make a decision. Before the floor even begins the countdown, Duke announces, “CALL”. Under the influence of the Adderall, I assume, I inexplicably get the impulse to table my hand similar to the way a blackjack dealer would table their cards. I pull both cards adjacent to each other, now sitting side by side. Using one finger, I flip one of the Aces face up, and then use that same Ace to slide it underneath the other, and flip up the remaining facedown Ace. I somehow managed to pull this off with such finesse, that it all happened in one, smooth, fluid motion. It was most certainly a rare form of poker showboating, and it was an incredibly cocky, and unnecessary thing to do, however I just couldn’t help myself. I had just decimated the guy who was running over every single player. The entire table is shocked to see that I reveal flopped quad Aces. Even more surprised, is Duke. He is absolutely stunned to his core. He tables Jack high. I immediately stand up from my chair, and lean in closer towards the table, while rubbing my eyes to confirm — yes, indeed. Jack high. “You triple checked flopped quad aces.” — the tone of his speech indicating a statement, not even close to what asking a question would sound like, as if he was in disbelief of what had just happened. “Yes, sir.” “I just called you with Jack high.” — again, it seemed as if he was confirming, for himself, the reality of the situation that had just occurred. “Yeah, you did, but why?” “I couldn’t put you on a hand, and I thought that you had finally had enough of me pushing you out of pots. It didn’t make sense, how could you have anything there when you checked the whole way?” “I took a risk, and I just figured that you would eventually try and steal it.” “I’m not even mad, kid. Well played, very clever. I salute you.” The dealer ships me Duke’s entire stack, plus the pot, and I toss him two green birds. I quickly start to stack all of the chips while I fold the next hand, and then I get up from the table, as does Chris. “Dude! What a sick fucking play! What in the fuck! Triple checking quad aces?!!?!?” “I know, right? I was waiting all night for that moment. I got stupid lucky that he called. I have no idea why he called me with Jack high. I mean, I heard what he said, but still, why? How?” “You figured him out, dude. Plain and simple. Really nice play, I’m impressed. I don’t think I could ever have triple checked that.” “Thanks, Chris. I think it was just the Adderall. I just felt like I absolutely knew that he was going to do exactly the same thing that he has been doing all night. Whenever he senses weakness, he bombs the river. I wasn’t expecting him at all to call my shove, but I knew that if I bet into two players while out of position, on an ace-paired board, after calling a 4x 3-bet from Duke with the button cold calling, they would both fold.” “That actually makes a lot of sense. Great play, dude. Seriously, that was just sick. Let’s get out of here and see what the other guys are up to.” Chris and I cash out, and we leave the poker room. I ran $500 up to about $2300. Chris booked a nice win himself, running $500 up to $1.1k. We both tipped the cashier behind the cage $10 each. The two of us are still wired from the Adderall, but now only physically stimulated, and not at all under the influence whatsoever. Sleeping is not going to be an option, so we decide to head back to my room, and get to work on polishing off a few beers. I insert the keycard into my room’s key slot, and slowly open the door, as I hear a circus of ruckus coming from inside the room. All of the guys are inside — Theo, Brian, Max, Scott, Rich, Derek, and Joe — they’d gone through two bottles of Smirnoff, a bottle of Jameson that Rich had brought over, a 24-pack of Coors Light, a ton of the weed, and had now moved on to blow, which one of Chris’ buddies had scored from someone in the casino. As far as I knew, none of my friends had ever done coke before. I certainly hadn’t. Everyone seemed to be really enjoying themselves, though, and who was I to judge? I had just played an intensely long poker session on some drug I had never heard of before, I won a bunch of money, all was good, and so I just went with the flow and chalked it up to an isolated incident on a vacation-like casino trip. I asked my boys who had lost the most money, both as a way to settle the bet, and to make a subtle brag about how much I had won playing poker. I wasn’t surprised at all — Brian was the biggest loser, totaling a net loss of a measly, yet exact, $100. He was by far the cheapest person out of all of my friends. He would always argue down to the penny when it came to splitting checks, or getting reimbursed for fronting money for a purchase. Indeed, he sure was cheap, but he wasn’t at all stupid. He made sure that the other 3 guys — Theo, Max, and Scott — lost less than he did so that he could come out ahead on the bet. Of course, he took a gamble by not knowing the status of my winnings, but the worst that could happen was that he would either lose $100 or book a win taking a gamble with it. The 4 of us each paid up, $50 each, and he offset his $100 loss with a $200 gain, for a net profit of $100. We all continued to drink, I tried a few lines myself, and everyone stayed up until the upcoming evening — it was now time to go gamble again. So, what did we do? We drank even more, smoked a blunt, and finished off the 8-ball of blow. The 9 of us were thoroughly bombed. Any and all traces of our decision making skills were completely distorted. Joe was playing $100 flips with Derek — they would cut a deck of cards and whoever cut to the higher card would win. Rich was playing beer pong with Scott for $50 a match, Theo, Max, and Brian were playing $20 rolls of C-Lo with dice that they had bought from the gift shop, and Chris and I were having a pipe dream discussion about how much we were going to win playing blackjack in the next hour. About 30 minutes later, all of us, while undoubtedly lacking full consciousness, head down to the casino floor and make our way into the pits. This time, I brought my entire roll, and so did Chris. The first thing we did was stagger over to a roulette table, only to sloppily introduce ourselves to the dealer. “Hey sweetheart, listen, we need your help. Black or red?” “Are you trying to ask me whether I think you should bet on black or red?” “Ya, of course. You know how you’ve been spinning that ball. Black or red? Which are you feeling?” Chris and I both take out our rolls and count out $1,000 each. “Whatever you pick, sweetheart. If we win, you get 10%. If we lose, you think you could get us a comp for 9 to the Wildflowers restaurant?” “Put it on black, boys. How about we just concentrate on winning for the time being?” “Let’s do it! $2,000 on black!” With a quick flick of her forefinger, the dealer launches the tiny ball into motion, and it begins to spin around and around the track of the roulette wheel. The dealer waves her hand over the table to close the action. “No more bets!” To be continued… Next: Inside Underground NY Poker #10
Don’t trust the man with one eye playing poker in Atlantic City
It was a measly little game. Innocuous by all accounts. A routine for many. A setting I was familiar with. But this game was different. All thanks to the man sitting next to me. I never did catch his name. I just knew him as the man with one eye. The Borgata is a place I don’t belong, yet I fit right in. You can assimilate with any crowd when you manipulate their vulnerabilities. The aristocracy here all look at me; contempt in their eyes. Pretentious. They underestimate me. I know them better than they know themselves. Once they reach that sweet spot of inebriation and self-loathing they start to play loose with their money. And that’s when a guy like me takes advantage. I’m glad I don’t belong. The game was no limit Texas Hold ‘Em. $1-$2 blinds. I had bought in for $100 at 9:00pm and methodically turned it into about $1,250 by 1:00am. It’s early in the morning, but the casino is still bustling with energy. Saturday’s always bring out the crowds. I’ve been watching the guy across the table. He’s a shark. He thinks he can win every pot by tripling the current bet. If I bet $10, he bets $30. Every damn time. I love playing with sharks. The aggressive players are the easiest to wipe clean. The conservative players take longer, but in the end I always walk away a winner. I’m really good at poker. On the final hand of my night I cleaned his stack by check-raising with a 7-2 off-suit and added another $300 to my winnings, bringing my total profit for the night just under $1,500. “It’s been a pleasure playing with you all this evening,” I said as I gathered my chips together and prepared to cash out. The shark was pulling out his wallet to buy in again, eagerly waiting for the chance to blow another few hundred dollars. I flipped the dealer a $10 chip before walking away from the table. He held it in front of his face and nodded to say thank you. I nodded back, then turned and headed towards the cashier to collect my winnings and call it a night. But my night was just beginning. After cashing out I headed back through the casino towards the exit, passing the blackjack tables while the adjacent slot machines chimed their attractive melodies. I had gotten about halfway when I felt three taps on my shoulder. I spun around and found myself looking at the man who sat next to me at the poker table. He had been there when I initially joined and played ultra conservatively the entire night. I had studied him at the table, assessing my opponent. But he hardly participated during the game. He folded almost every hand, and only played beyond the flop when he was big blind. “What’d you have that last hand?” He stared at me from behind his sunglasses, slightly tilting his head forward to look out from under the brim of his baseball cap. Typical poker attire for the inexperienced. I let out a short laugh. “Sorry buddy, I never reveal my cards unless I have to. You should have played the hand if you wanted to know.” “C’mon...you can tell me.” I winked at him and smiled. “Maybe next time.” Before I could turn away the man placed both hands on my shoulders and held me in place, still shielding his face with his baseball cap. “You’re quite the poker wiz.” I felt uneasy. “Uh, thanks.” “How’d you like to play a real game?” “I, uh, think I just did.” “You mean the kiddie table? No, not that. I’m talkin’ high stakes, man. $50,000 buy-in. $1,000-$2,000 blinds.” I reached up, grabbed his arms and released myself from his grip. “Sorry bud. I don’t have that kind of cash.” “I do! I can post your buy-in!” He turned his head and looked directly at me. The bright lights of a nearby slot machine shined onto his sunglasses and I could vaguely see the outline of one eye staring at me. The other side of his face appeared to be a dark crater of an empty eye socket. I squinted and tried to make out more of the features that were behind his sunglasses, but he quickly lowered his head. “Why would you cover my buy-in?” He lowered his head further, looking directly at the ground. “I am...not the best at poker. Terrible, actually. But you! You’re an expert!” “I’m not going to play for you, if that’s what you’re getting at.” “No no. You pay back the fifty-K I give you and then we can split whatever you win.” “And what if I lose?” He took off his sunglasses and looked at me, exposing his eyeless cavity in the glow of flashing lights. I winced at the sight. “I’m willing to take that risk.” Despite his disfigurement, the one-eyed man had dangled a tempting carrot in front of my face. A fifty thousand dollar buy-in that I didn’t actually have to pay for? It was free money. And losing wouldn’t cost me anything. That carrot was far too tempting to resist. He gave me an address and instructed me to meet him there in thirty minutes. It was just outside Atlantic City on Route 40 at an auto body shop. When I pulled up the place looked deserted. Beyond rows of mangled cars I could see that the building had no lights turned on. I sat in my car and observed the perimeter. Not a sign of life anywhere. A sudden knock on my passenger side door startled me. I jumped in my seat when I turned and saw the gaping hole in the face of the one-eyed man staring back at me. He held up a large brown paper bag. “I’ve got the cash!” His voice was slightly muffled from the other side. “There’s no one here!” I yelled at him. “It’s around back.” I’d heard of shady backroom poker games before. They always depict them in movies as places where someone gets caught with cards up their sleeves and gets shot in the chest. I didn’t think I had anything to worry about. The people that get shot at these places are usually the ones cheating. And I don’t cheat. I exited my car and walked with the one eyed man through the lot of totaled cars. We circled around the building and approached a large steel door with a small rectangular slit that was covered by another piece of retractable metal. “Here, take the money,” he said, handing me the paper bag. I grabbed it and peeked inside, revealing stacks of $100 bills. While I had an uneasy feeling about this place, I must admit, holding that amount of money in my hands gave me a bit of a rush. The man pounded a fist on the door three times and almost instantly the metal window slid open. All I could see on the other side was two eyes staring back at us. “Back again, are ya?” A deep voice from the other side of the door bellowed. “Brought another chump to try to win back what you’ve lost?” “This is my secret weapon,” my one-eyed confidant replied. “He knows the stakes?” “Yes yes, he’s been briefed. Let him in already.” The window slid closed and with a loud metal clang the door slowly opened. “That’s Bruno. Go ahead and follow him, he’ll take you to a table.” “Wait, you’re not coming in?” “They don’t allow pairs. Afraid someone will cheat. But you don’t need me. You’re a stud! You’ll be fine.” I gulped and took a step forward, then stopped and turned to him. “How will I find you afterwards?” “I’ll be in my car, right behind where you parked yours.” I gave him a nervous nod and walked through the door. It sounded like a prison cell when it closed behind me. Inside, Bruno peeled back a black curtain revealing a room filled with a plume of smoke from cigars and cigarettes. Through the thick smoke I saw four different half-circle tables, each one with between five and six men seated in front of a topless female dealer. The tables immediately struck me as odd. Not the topless women. That part I instantly liked. It was the half-circle that threw me off. Typical poker games are played in a circle or an oval. These looked more like blackjack tables, except they didn’t have the traditional green felt. Instead they were covered with an over-sized white sheet that concealed the legs of the dealer, almost like an upscale Italian restaurant. “You got the cash?” Bruno asked. Being so transfixed on the room I had almost forgotten about it. I handed him the bag. He peeked inside, then quickly closed it. “Looks good. We’ll count it in the back room. You can go ahead and take a seat at that one.” He pointed to a table with five other men. “The chips are already set up at the end chair.” I walked to the table, took a seat and made a quick assessment of my opponents. An old man smoking out of a pipe who looked like he hadn’t shaved in ten years. Two young, clean cut snobs that looked like they were mooching off daddy to afford the buy-in. A middle-aged man in a suit and tie. And a biker guy with a black leather vest and a handlebar mustache. I sat out the first few games, waiting for the dealer button to pass me before entering play and watching how the other men played. They all seemed to play loose with their money. Something I was very happy about. On the last hand before the button passed me the biker was pushed all-in on the river by one of the young snobs. The cards on the table were an 8♦, 9♦, 9♣, 7♠, & Q♦. It was a hand with a ton of possibilities. Three of a kind, straight, flush, full house. The biker contemplated his move for about five minutes, staying deep in thought the entire time. He finally pulled the sheet from under the table and reached below, pulling up a small cooler on placing it on his lap. “I call and raise.” He pushed his chips forward and then opened the cooler. I stared at him confused. He kept extra cash in a cooler? He shuffled around inside the cooler; the sound of ice being shoved around and banging against the sides echoed through the room. Once he found what he was looking for he pulled his hand out, grasping the item in a closed fist. He shook the excess water and ice off his hand, then tossed the item into the pot. Rolling over the chips and across the table was a severed human finger. All the other players around us stopped and gawked at our table. Some of the other men had wild excitement in their eyes. The biker kept a straight face as I stared down at the finger mixed among the chips, both perturbed and horrified. “I call.” Loud commotion from the other players engulfed through the room as everyone jumped out of their seats and rushed to surround our table. My eyes went wide from disbelief. What the hell was this? The biker smiled and flipped the two cards in front of him. 10♦ & J♦. Straight flush. He had the nuts - the best possible hand with the cards already on the table. The crowd erupted with cheer, eventually falling into a chant of “Cut it off! Cut it off!” while some of them pumped fists into the air. The young snob placed his cards face down on the table and mucked; his face turning white in the process. It all became clear to me. This was more than just high stakes poker. They weren’t only betting cash at this place. They were betting human body parts. Bruno quickly emerged from within the chanting crowd wearing latex gloves and holding a partially rusted hacksaw, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his mouth. One of the topless dealers followed him with a large smile on her face carrying medical supplies. She placed a stool next to our table and a metal tin positioned underneath. “Index finger. Give it.” Bruno ordered the snob. He gave the order in such a casual tone, like he had done this before. The snob raised a shaking arm and presented his hand. Bruno moved quickly, grabbing the snob’s finger and yanking it over to the stool. In the same motion he raised the saw and instantly went to work sawing off the finger. Droplets of blood flew through the air as the snob screamed from the pain. My mind raced as I watched it all unfold. I was in trouble. I couldn’t just up and walk out of the place without playing a single hand. Leaving so suddenly would arouse suspicion. Obviously what these men were doing wasn’t legal. They might think of me as a possible snitch. And there was no telling what the man with one eye waiting for me outside might do if he found out I abandoned the game. Bruno threw the freshly severed finger of the snob to the biker while the topless dealer went to work applying a tourniquet with fishing line, then she used a metal sheet with a wooden handle heated with a blow torch to cauterize the stump. The crowd dissipated back to their tables as the biker picked up the finger on the table and stored it away in his cooler. I shuddered at the thought of what else was in that cooler. The night moved on from there like a regular poker game. Every so often someone would reach under their table and bet a body part. An ear. Part of a tongue. Skin from someone’s shoulder. A toe. Most of these hands were met the same enthusiasm, but the result was usually a fold. One guy called and wound up having a molar pulled out of his mouth with a pair of plyers. I dumped my usual style of play and resorted to a more conservative approach. I fully admit, I was scared. Still, I managed to pull in about $5,000. After two hours people started to cash out and leave. I thought it might be a good opportunity to make my way out. I was sure the man with one eye expected me to come out doubling his investment, but $2,500 profit was better than going back out there empty handed. No pun intended. On what I decided would be my final hand for the night I was dealt an incredible hand: pocket kings. No starting hand in Texas Hold ‘Em is ever a guaranteed win. But I liked my odds. The only possible starting hand that was better than mine would be pocket aces. The biker raised $5,000 pre flop; my entire profit. I had been watching his game all night. He was smart. He knew when to fold and when to raise. He won the majority of the hands I had witnessed. And he used the contents of his cooler under the table to intimidate and bring an entirely new element of strategy to poker. Admittedly I admired his play style, and his raise was an indicator that he had a strong hand. But my hand was likely stronger. It was worth at least calling and seeing what the flop would bring me. I tossed $5,000 worth in chips to the center. “Call,” I said out loud, trying to sound confident. The dealer laid out three cards on the table. J♠ K♦ 8♠. I had flopped three of a kind; fairly decent, but not the nuts just yet. The other two cards left a lot of possibilities. If the biker had four to a straight or a flush he had pretty good odds at beating me with the last two cards. There was also the chance he had pocket jacks or 8’s and wound up with four of a kind. I tapped a finger on the table indicating a check. The biker quickly went to his stack and pushed forward a stack of chips. “$20,000.” A bead of sweat dripped down my forehead as I thought more about the possibilities. At the moment I had the best hand. The next two cards would dictate whether it stayed that way or not. Usually in this scenario I would make a large bet to try to force the other player to fold, protecting my lead and eliminating the chance of my hand being beaten with the turn or the river. The fear of potentially losing a limb kept me from making that play all night. I decided to trust my years of experience. My instinct. “I’m all in.” I said waving the back of my hand over my chips. I was sure he would fold. The biker stared me down from across the table, studying me while he shuffled chips in his right hand. He held that position for a good three minutes that felt like an eternity. I, meanwhile, tried to act as though I hadn’t a worry in the world. My heart was pounding so hard I worried it would be a tell. “You came here with that one eyed man, didn’t you?” he asked me. “I might have.” “How do you think he lost his eye?” I didn’t react, not wanting to give him any sort of indication of my hand. “How’d you like to win his eye back?” He reached below to table and pulled out his cooler. “I call and raise.” He shuffled around inside his cooler, looked up at me, and tossed an eyeball into the table. It rolled over the pile of chips and eventually came to a stop with the pupil staring right back at me. The risk of losing my eye was too great. I may be winning right now but that could easily change. My gut told me to fold, but it meant I would be leaving with nothing. And it meant the possibility of a far worse punishment from the man with one eye. “I call.” The remaining crowd moved in on us. I flipped my cards displaying my pocket kings. He flipped his cards. 10♠ Q♠. He had both four to a straight and four to a flush. An ace, a nine, or any spade meant I would lose. The dealer burnt a card and laid down the turn. 5♣. It didn’t help either of us and my chances of winning became greater. I stood up and rubbed my eyes, worried that it would be the last time I’d get to see out of one of them. Then the river. Q♦. Relief swept over me. He had a pair of queens. I had three kings. The crowd clapped and I let out the breath of air I had been holding. I got to keep my eyes. And I had just won a pot worth more than $100,000, at least $25,000 of which was all mine. “Well played,” the biker said. "I’m sure your partner will appreciate having his eye back, even if it doesn’t work anymore.” How the hell am I going to transport this eyeball? I thought to myself. “Just one minute!” Bruno yelled across the room. “Don’t give him those chips or that eye!” I squinted at him, confused as he moved briskly to our table. He peered at me as he walked, a stack of cash in his hand. “There’s a problem with your money.” “What do you mean? It’s all there!” I yelled back. “Oh it adds up, alright. Only problem is...” he waved the cash in front of him “...this money is counterfeit!” I was in complete shock. The one eyed man had used me. No wonder he didn’t care about losing the $50,000 he gave me. I was his patsy. Bruno moved in on me and grabbed me by my shirt, pulling me right in front of his face. “Thought you could pull a fast one on us?!” He raised his other arm and I briefly saw a shiny object held firmly in his fist. Before I could make out what he was holding he plunged his fist downwards and I felt the object pried into my left eye socket, wiggling its way to the back of my eye. “You’re not leaving here with any money. Or one of your eyes.” Two months later and I was back at $1-$2 table at The Borgata wearing a pair of sunglasses and a baseball cap, sticking to games much more low key. My days of being an active participant in high stakes poker games are over. But tonight I’m watching the chubby man across the table. He’s good. He’s accumulated about $2,000 worth of chips in just a couple of hours. He was worthy. My perfect patsy. I followed him when he excused himself to use the bathroom, waiting outside for him to come back out. As soon as he exited I approached him, placing my hand on his shoulder to stop him in his tracks. “You’re pretty good. How’d you like to play a real game of poker?” I’ll never be able to see out of it again, but I’ll also never get any sleep at night knowing that someone got the best of me. And that my eye is sitting in a cooler that belongs to a biker with a handlebar mustache. You can’t trust a man with one eye. Survival Procedure
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Got a glorious idea for big, big bucks. Vince and the WWE should open a casino.
It can go on the Las Vegas Strip past Stratosphere or where the Trump casino was in Atlantic City. Have the dealers dress as referees, both striped and bowtie. Get all the celebrities they can from guest hosting to endorse it and be at the grand opening. Get Jake "The Snake" Roberts to give blackjack tips to those at tables. Have Dave Meltzer, Maffew, Braun Strowman and Todd Phillips appear on the red carpet as interviewers. Play entrance themes nonstop and schedule various eras by time: Modern throughout the day, 80s/Attitude Era at night. It can be called McMahon's Million Dollar Mania. A special protein buffet arranged by Vince himself. Have Vince walk around and shake the hands of casino goers asking how they like it so far, thoughts on their experience. And ON the grand opening night, gather the entire roster, along with Triple H and the McMahons, for a vocal performance of Viva Las Vegas while dressed in tuxedos or hoodies. Do meet and greets there with your choice of Uso. Cash in your chips towards WWE Network subscription credit or even tickets to a live event! Have the beefcakes from the WBF walk around to offer you drinks on the casino floor while you're playing. Dressed in classic attire...top hat, cane and all. Watch the weekly shows with a wrestler TBD. Get a chance to work out with Triple H, play Lego with Finn Balor, get a bar tab courtesy of Byron Saxton and much more in the weekly sweepstakes. Pastamania is back, brother! Plenty of hearty options located in the food court. It's time to place the grapefruits onto the competition at those other casinos! Note: Am a tad buzzed.
Hey, y'all! sethra007 and I are teaming up to share what's going on in Louisville every week. This post highlights goings-on around town for tonight through Sunday. A reminder that if you're a parent, you owe it to yourself and your kids to check out the Louisville Family Fun site. If I started posting all of the kid- and family-focused events that they list, we'd be here all day. Many of the events LFF lists are free or very low cost, so it's a great way to entertain and educate your young'uns JULY 17
This event features Valerie Schirmer from Three Toads Farm demonstrating how to pot succulents in Stoneware. Schirmer’s demonstration will include tips about soil, watering, sunlight, temperature and other key components for keeping your Stoneware succulent thriving year-round. Held in Stoneware’s new GE Mongram Experience Kitchen, the open house style event will be catered by Maison - A Boutique Culinary Company with complimentary “from the garden” themed hors d'oeuvre and cocktail tastings. The Lifestyle Series is designed to showcase authentic, local makers of products that complement the Stoneware products and lifestyle.
Come enjoy a pleasant summer evening at the Ice House's new wine tasting series, Straight from the Bottle. Led by industry expert Erica Schnell, each series explores different tasting techniques and samplings of seasonal varietals and distinct blends from around the world. An assortment of appetizer pairings will be offered during the tasting, and a cash bar will be open for refreshments before and after each class. To purchase tickets call 502-589-4700.
Eron Plevan, head mixologist from The Oakroom will teach guests how to make a few of his signature cocktails. Guests will enjoy four of Eron’s favorite cocktails with Bourbon Barrel Foods’ signature snacks.
Forecastle and craft beer kings Against the Grain Brewery will be hosting the official Forecastle Kick-Off Party to start your weekend off right! Stop by for local eats, treats, and drinks, plus all GA & VIP weekend pass holders can pick up your wristbands in advance from 5pm to 7pm! We'll also have a live music from Louisville favorites Second Story Man with The Debauchees starting at 7pm on the patio. RSVP now and join us for a heckuva good time!
MUST RSVP THROUGH YELP! At this special event, the center will allow Yelpers who are 21+ to come in and play with all of the displays and experiments after the center closes to the general public. Special adult beverages -- inspired by childhood favorites like Cinnamon Toast Crunch and Ecto Coolers -- will be provided by Fireball, Chila Orchata and Epic Vodka. Other surprises are in the works! And then at 7:30 p.m., attendees will go into the center's new state-of-the-art, four-story digital theater and watch a Hollywood classic: "Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark." This movie is among several circa 1980s films that the center will be showing over the summer.
Down One Bourbon Bar and Restaurant is teaming up with entertainer and magician Richard Darshwood for an evening of Magic, Dinner and Bourbon. Seating is limited, so guests are encouraged to make reservations. The event includes a mystery-filled evening with a three-course dinner and four courses of entertainment from Darshwood. Dinner starts with appetizers for the table, our house salad, a choice of Roasted Gerber Chicken Breast with Three Potato Hash, Brussels Sprouts and Gravy, or Shrimp and Grits, and Bourbon-Raisin Bread Pudding for Dessert.
The Third Thursday Hoedown in Germantown returns July 17, celebrating its second birthday at its comfy home at Danny Mac’s, featuring local caller Alex Udis to the old-time tunes of semi-local band Hen Cackle. Doors open at 7 with a beginner’s square dance workshop at 7:30, and dancing will take place from 8-10:30, featuring predominantly simple and traditional southern figures. JULY 18
(weekly on Friday until August 29, 2014) Join the Kentucky Center on Fridays from 12:00 p.m. – 1:00 p.m. for a class of yoga postures, flow, and deep relaxation. Come to the Main Lobby of The Kentucky Center by 11:50a, and bring your own mat and water!
Outkast, Spoon, Twenty One Pilots, Gary Clark Jr., Local Natives, Action Bronson, JJ Grey & Mofro, Against Me!, Nightmares On Wax (live), The Black Lips, St. Lucia, Mim0sa, Benjamin Booker, Leagues, Foy Vance, The Districts, Willie Watson, Old Baby, St. Paul and the Broken Bones, Curtis Harding, Public
Louisville’s home to Friday evening Twilight Shopping (6-9 p.m.) with music, Kentucky inspired food & drink, and entertainment! Friday only $5, One day Pass $12 or Two day Pass $20 Children under 12, admitted free
Forecastle kick-off -opening early at noon. Our favorite country boys, that is Country Boy Brewing, are bringing the good stuff for a very special Forecastle kick-off tapping, featuring: ~ Country Boy/West Sixth Country Western ~ PaPaw’s Red ~ Bourbon Barrel-Aged Black Gold Porter ~ and more! JULY 19
Jack White, Band of Horses, Dwight Yoakam, Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings, Jason Isbell, Slint, Lord Huron, Spanish Gold, Kygo, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Hurray for the Riff Raff, The Soul Rebels, Drew Holcomb & the Neighbors, Boy & Bear, Mount Moriah, Young & Sick, Johnnyswim, JaLin Roze, Goodbye June, The Wans, Jill Andrews, Anwar Sadat, Chancellor Warhol
Lee Daniel’s The Butler watches as Cecil Gaines serves eight presidents during his tenure as a butler at the White House, the civil rights movement, Vietnam, and other major events affect this man's life, family, and American society.
On Saturday, a Regency Promenade will take place in an effort to break the Guinness Book World Record number of people in Regency attire. One day Pass $12 or Two day Pass $20 Children under 12, admitted free
The Derby City Rovers are Louisville's Premier Development League Soccer Team. They compete in the South Atlantic Division of the USL Premier Development League. One step below the pro game, the players are widely recognized as the top level of amateur mens soccer in the country.
Join naturalist Rosemary Bauman at the Nature Center for an Owl Hike. Refreshments will be provided. Recommended for ages 6 and up. Dress for the weather. COST: LNC members and volunteers: $4 per person or $15 for families of 4 or more; Non-members: $6 per person or $24 for families of 4 or more. Limited to 20 participants. Registration and payment are required at registration by Saturday , July 19 at 12:00 noon. (Fees are non-refundable.)
As an entertainer, Jeff Dunham has truly impacted popular culture and his character catchphrases, such as Achmed's "Silence! I Keel You!" and José Jalapeño’s "On A Steek!'" are now part of our vernacular, much to the delight of multi-generational audiences worldwide.
The pizza party is back at 610 Magnolia. House made, hand tossed dough is topped with seasonal ingredients and houses cured meats before being baked in our wood fired oven. 610 Magnolia chefs will serve up pies both traditional and creative, along with other treats to round out the Italian style feast. Carefully selective wines and beers will be on hand to enjoy. Be sure to RSVP early as this is a popular event. Call 502-636-0783 or visit www.610magnolia.com July 20
The wedding show at the Frazier History Museum is a boutique-like wedding show and is as elegant as they come. Enjoy free show admission, cake and catering samplings, while talking to Louisville's best wedding vendors.
Summer weather means farm fresh produce. What better way to show off the bounty of the Ohio River Valley then with a series of special suppers created by Chef Levon Wallace. Join us on Sunday evenings for a family-style, prix fixe menu in addition to our regular a la carte dinner menu. Make your reservations for one of the Sunday dates below by calling 502.217.6360
Preservation Louisville is hosting the 2nd annual Preservation + ART exhibit called: Odd Corners in Louisville at The Hite Art Institute. This exhibit features drawing of scenes in Louisville by Alexander Van Leshout from 1924 along with modern day photography by Dennis Crews. Some corners you may be able to recognize... others you may have to ask an older relative about! The exhibit is free and open to the public through July 20, 2014
Beck, The Replacements, Ray LaMontagne, Nickel Creek, Trampled by Turtles, Jenny Lewis, Tune-Yards, Flume, Brett Dennen, Sharon Van Etten, Claude VonStroke, Lucius, Chrome Sparks, Sun Kil Moon, Hayes Carll, Reignwolf, The Weeks, Blue Sky Black Death, Seluah, Matrimony, Thee Open Sex If I left anything off or forgot anything, please post it! :)
Atlantic City et ses casinos ont beaucoup évolué en un peu plus d’une décennie. La terrible récession de 2008 a fait du dégât et forcé cinq des douze casinos à fermer leurs portes. Depuis quelques jours, deux d’entre eux ont rouvert sous une direction différente : le Hard Rock Atlantic City et l’Ocean Resort Casino. Are there any interesting non-casino restaurants in Atlantic City? How much do the boardwalk rolling chair rides cost? Can you walk between Marina District Casinos? Atlantic City Destination Experts. ezyd ️ . 10,750 forum posts. IamNancy 🏖 3,989 forum posts. jerrysnj 😀 6,723 forum posts. larilu. 5,694 forum posts. UKstages. 6,724 forum posts. Members who are knowledgeable about this Dernière édition, le 14/10/2020. Atlantic City est une ville de jeux située au New Jersey, Etats-Unis, qui compte 12 casinos terrestres.L'industrie des casinos est devenue légale en 1976 et c'est 2 ans plus tard, en 1978, que le premier casino de la ville voit le jour : le Resorts International.Les autres casinos ont ensuite suivi... Ocean Casino and Resort Atlantic City. Amada is a higher-end restaurant trendy and chic, with a menu that offers a blending of Spanish and Mediterranean inspired plates. The trendy interior with floor-to-ceiling windows paired with comfortable seating, make this a great place for an enjoyable date night or evening out as a group. Specialty paellas, delicious flatbreads, unique vegetable dishes En 2014, le Trump Plaza est le quatrième casino d'Atlantic City à fermer. La ville a raté le virage de la diversification, alors que les États voisins commençaient, un à un, à légaliser « A Atlantic City, les casinos représentent un véritable cancer » Par PROPOS RECUEILLIS PAR SAMUEL BLUMENFELD Publié le 10 novembre 1998 à 00h00 - Mis à jour le 10 novembre 1998 à 00h00 Once Casino Attire Atlantic City players are ready to play for real money, we provide recommendations of trusted and Casino Attire Atlantic City secure online casinos to join, risk-free. Lobstermania PLAY FREE. Play now Info. MR.GREEN CASINO . 96%. Cool Cat Casino. Dragon's Law Twin Fever. Learn More About Mobile Gaming . Enter at least 3 characters; 150 Free Spins for $20 DepositT&C's apply Un casino d'Atlantic City mauvais perdant. Julien E. Dernière édition le 29/08/2012. Tous les articles casino; Un casino d'Atlantic City mauvais perdant ; Le Golden Nugget a été témoin d'un fait plutôt inhabituel pour un casino, un groupe de joueurs a gagné gros... $1.5 millions engrangés par 14 joueurs. Les gambleurs ont gagné cette somme après avoir remarqué que les huit paquets Choose from our casino resorts in Atlantic City. It may come as no surprise that one of Atlantic City’s greatest draws is its casinos. Atlantic City gaming action comes in virtually every variety. Take a seat at a high-stakes poker table or play the penny slots if that's your thing -- there's something fun for everyone in our casinos. En 1976, les jeux de casinos sont légalisés aux États-Unis ; deux ans plus tard le Resorts International est fondé, il est le premier casino de la côte Est et se trouve à Atlantic City. Il n’y a pas si longtemps, la ville comptait encore non moins de douze casinos, tous implantés en bord de mer sur la Marina ou sur la fameuse promenade du Boardwalk .
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