So today was another day in baccarat.  I still wonder if bacc players know they are the scum of the Earth or if they are somehow normal in their universe.

So I have two short stories to relate to you about my night and then I’m going to go spend some time with OMD and then go to bed.

First, the definition of irony: the Vietnamese guy on my table that didn’t speak a single word of English who was wearing a hat that said U.S. Border Patrol.  I’m not kidding.  I think I know what Arizona is doing wrong.

And second, this was overheard at my table tonight.

I get back from break and my relief, in a normal tone of voice says, “That cocksucker there, I just gave him 1200 dollars, he paid the commission for everyone at the table and then stiffed me.”

I looked up at  the table and saw 6 “regular” bacc players so I said, “Which cocksucker?”

They all colored up and left and thought to myself, all I have to do is call them cocksuckers and they all leave?  How did it take me 13 years to figure that out?

Peace, love and good happiness stuff.

Matt

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