Read Online Head in the Sand ... and other unpopular positions by Linda M Au - Free Book Online

everyone but him ran in “just
for a minute” to pick up some trashy novels and word puzzle books
for the flight back. We came back out to the car and found Wayne
with the seatback reclined fully, cooking there sunny-side up,
looking a little green around the gills.
    To add insult to injury, the construction workers
here in the neighborhood laid new curb all around my parents’ block
today, and we had to “walk the plank” across a small board to get
from the wide wet cement into the driveway. Wayne (and the 1½
burgers he was carrying around with him) somehow made it across the
board safely.
    Later that evening, Wayne and I braved sitting at a
blackjack table with a real Las Vegas dealer. We sat at the
“cheapskate” $5 bet tables with the other embarrassingly-low
bettors, and decided to take it all in as a once-in-a-lifetime
experience. I’m a people-watcher, and this is a unique city in
which to watch people from all over the world in various weird
places and situations.
    Blackjack is an easier game to play because it
doesn’t force you to bet against other people, and there aren’t
nearly as many subtle nuances and body language as in a game like
poker. We sat at the same table and made a few minimum bets and
played well. We watched other people come and go from our table.
The people who sat down were as varied as I’ve ever seen. Most were
very friendly, and I found that the tables are often a place to
socialize with people while you’re playing (or watching other
people play).
    I came away from this experience with an odd
fascination about how the tables work: the lengthy list of rules,
the plethora of “eye in the sky” cameras that watch everyone’s
moves all the time, and how very different each casino is in
atmosphere and type of person frequenting it.
    The tables change dealers every hour or so, and every
time a dealer leaves your table or arrives, he/she has to show both
hands, palms up and then down, to the camera. I thought this was
just a neat little gesture of hello or goodbye until Wayne
explained that it was to show that the dealer wasn’t filching a
chip or two out of the tray. Dishonest people in Las Vegas? Who
knew? Once you place your bet, you’re not allowed to touch your
chips. At most casinos, you never touch the cards. You can tip a
dealer outright if you wish, or you can “ride” a tip with your bet
and the dealer can then end up doubling the tip (or the house gets
it if your hand loses).
    It seems to be a nice gesture to tip a dealer if you
are dealt a blackjack or two, and tips are usually a $1 coin/token.
I don’t understand this gesture, since the casino insists that the
dealer isn’t cheating and isn’t handing you that blackjack on
purpose, and yet most people tip dealers for those blackjacks after
the fact. Superstition runs rampant in this town, even among
civilized, intelligent people. Sitting in an oddly lit casino, with
no windows and no clocks, for hours on end must change a person.
You do silly things like tip supposedly impartial dealers for
giving you cards they have no control over.
    There were enough things to notice in these places to
keep me fascinated for ages. We met people from all over the
country, and the dealers are from all over the world. We saw
nametags such as:
    “Hi, I’m Anna, from Russia.”
    “Hi, I’m Joe, from Chicago.”
    “Hi, I’m Wei, from China.”
    “Hi, I’m Feng, from Taiwan.”
    “Hi, I’m Amy, from Las Vegas.”
    Hi, we’re Wayne and Linda, from Pittsburgh. Didn’t have quite the same ring to it.
    I have a strange feeling there are a few short
stories buried in this week’s experiences. It’s another world in
there, and seeing the Strip at night is something one never
forgets. (Fifteen thousand miles of neon tubing isn’t easily
missed.)
    Well, Gracie just came in from using her grandpa’s
push broom to sweep the eternal desert dust off the driveway.
Apparently this type of ritualistic sweeping is done throughout