It’s easy enough to play but harder to keep the dollar amount on the table consistently slow. Tony knows what he’s doing though. He can calculate all sorts of probability, not just concerning which of the cards will be flipped over next but also how many times he can safely win compared to lose so as to not around suspicion.
He keeps his hat on and his head down. His voice drops artificially and he doesn’t meet the eye of the dealer. He knows he’s very recognizable. He knows he’s on television a lot, that he’s the household name that Steve once was and will be again in a few days, but currently doesn’t need to worry about. Tony makes sure he loses his third hand, all but the ante to be in the next two games. He loses the fourth too, overdrawing by a single number to scratch and hits big on hand five. There’s another big win on hand six and two more losses before he tells the dealer that he must have cursed his luck with the table.
Two hundred to start has turned to a neat thousand, but doesn’t arouse suspicion.
He’ll play some slots next and drink, tipping the cocktail waitresses with chips before heading back to the tables. Craps his favorite game and he promises himself to stay for ten minutes only. There’s not a good way to win the game without rigged dice and he’s not that prepared. As expected, he ends up losing most of his winnings. His luck hasn’t been good lately, and losing money is getting them no where.
At least he’s made a convincing go of being a guy who probably doesn’t know what he’s doing, someone the security on the floor doesn’t need to watch. Poker is his final game of the afternoon and by the time that Steve finds him again, Tony’s cashed out for three thousand dollars.
Not bad. Not enough to get a free room, but he is plenty drunk and a little less careful about keeping his head down. It’s hard, anyway, when Steve’s turned himself back up. Tony is compelled to smile at him. It’s as natural as breathing.
“So I’ve done some thinking,” he says, shoving a wad of bills into the back of the blond’s jeans. “I’ll go anywhere with you as long as there is indoor plumbing.”
no subject
He keeps his hat on and his head down. His voice drops artificially and he doesn’t meet the eye of the dealer. He knows he’s very recognizable. He knows he’s on television a lot, that he’s the household name that Steve once was and will be again in a few days, but currently doesn’t need to worry about. Tony makes sure he loses his third hand, all but the ante to be in the next two games. He loses the fourth too, overdrawing by a single number to scratch and hits big on hand five. There’s another big win on hand six and two more losses before he tells the dealer that he must have cursed his luck with the table.
Two hundred to start has turned to a neat thousand, but doesn’t arouse suspicion.
He’ll play some slots next and drink, tipping the cocktail waitresses with chips before heading back to the tables. Craps his favorite game and he promises himself to stay for ten minutes only. There’s not a good way to win the game without rigged dice and he’s not that prepared. As expected, he ends up losing most of his winnings. His luck hasn’t been good lately, and losing money is getting them no where.
At least he’s made a convincing go of being a guy who probably doesn’t know what he’s doing, someone the security on the floor doesn’t need to watch. Poker is his final game of the afternoon and by the time that Steve finds him again, Tony’s cashed out for three thousand dollars.
Not bad. Not enough to get a free room, but he is plenty drunk and a little less careful about keeping his head down. It’s hard, anyway, when Steve’s turned himself back up. Tony is compelled to smile at him. It’s as natural as breathing.
“So I’ve done some thinking,” he says, shoving a wad of bills into the back of the blond’s jeans. “I’ll go anywhere with you as long as there is indoor plumbing.”