Last night, I made my first trip over to the casino in almost a year. Once we started hording money away for the condo, I had to put the kaibosh on my semi-regular trips to the blackjack tables. One of the members of our investment club suggested the Firepit Bar & Grill as a meeting location, so I found myself back once again.

It was an odd feeling walking back in there - there’s nothing like the constant chirping and ringing of the slot machines in the background. Quite a rush.

I played a bit before and after our meeting, and ended up a few hundy’ ahead. As I drove home, I recalled the story of the time I took advice from someone - whom I can only describe as a Pimp - and walked away a big winner. I thought it would be a good idea to get this out and saved somewhere - I’m already starting to get a little sketchy on all the details.

It was the fall of 2001. I was living in Bay View, and the rent was pretty cheap - I had some “disposable income” to play with. I would make a trip over to the casino after work once a week on average - sometimes more, sometimes less.

Going into this particular trip, I think I had been on a good run, and had some extra bucks to play with. I usually played at the $15 tables - the $5 were full of idiots, the $10 tables were the people who mistakenly thought that they were better than the $5 players, and the $15 tables were enough to scare off the untrained players. The $25 tables were a step up - an odd mix of people who had money to burn, and people who shouldn’t have been playing at all. So, like I said, on this particular night, I was in the “money to burn” category, and sat down at a high-roller table.

I found a seat at 3rd base (last position on the table), and started with $300 in green chips. I went up and down for the first hour, but started to get hot at the end - at that point I think I had doubled my money. That’s when the Pimp sat down next to me.

This guy was flashy, and decked out in a reddish-purplish suit, with the fuzzy hat and everything. Big gold rings on every finger, and he even had a gold tooth. I believe he had a few ladies with him, who stood behind him and rubbed his shoulders as he played.

Anyways, the Pimp started throwing some big bets down. At the time, state law was that the largest bet that could be made was $200, although you were allowed to double-down or split that if you wanted to. The Pimp was playing $100 most hands, and would double up to $200 every so often. I was sticking to my $25 bets, and occassionaly moving up to $50 when I felt good about it. But I was winning. A lot. I had never been on such a streak - within 30 minutes, I had pulled in another $400.

The whole table was doing well, which made the experience more enjoyable. If you’re the one guy at a table full of losers, it’s hard to have fun - you don’t want to rub it in their faces. But when everyone is winning, you’re all cheering for each other, giving high-fives… it’s a blast.

At this point, the Pimp - who I had been casually talking to during play - turned to me and said, “My Brother, you are on a roll - you need to bet it BIG!” I laughed and nodded, and upped my bets to $100. And kept winning. The Pimp kept at me to raise my bet, and I finally gave in. I’ve got more than 2 thousand in chips, and I’m playing $200 a hand. I’d lose an occassional hand here and there, but overall I was gaining ground quickly.

At one point, I had my $200 bet out, and was dealt a pair of 8’s. Now, anyone who knows anything about blackjack will tell you: always — always — split aces and eights. The dealer was showing a bust card, so I didn’t hesitate to drop another $200 on the table to split them up. I received yet another 8!

Now I’m looking at three bets on the table. I receive a 2 on my first 8, double-down ($800 on the table), and draw a nine for nineteen. Next hand, I get a 3. This time, I hesitated. The Pimp is telling me to do it. I look around the table, and a very old, very small Asian man - who hadn’t breathed a word all night - looks at me and grunts, “do it!” And I oblige. Double down again ($1,000), and I draw a face card for 21. Finally, on the last eight I draw another eight; the casino only allows you to split a hand up twice, so I had to stick at 16.

The dealer turned up a face to go with his bust card (let’s call it “15″), and drew another face card to bust out. That’s a $1,000 profit on one hand for Mr. Buchs. My hand were shaking a bit as I raked in my winnings. I had nothing but black chips in front of me, and was running out of room in my rack.

I played a few more hands after that, and probably won another $500. It got to be around 10:30, which meant I had been playing for close to 5 hours, so I decided to call it a night. I tipped the dealer and they gave me a little plastic tray to carry all my chips up to the cage.

Final tally - $5,000.