Years ago, Sam’s Town in Las Vegas had one $5 8/5 Bonus Poker progressive machine slightly to the right of the cashier on the main floor. On Thursdays they had a “Young at Heart” day where seniors would get benefits. I don’t remember what all was involved. Maybe a point multiplier and half-price meals, but I’m sure there was a senior drawing in the afternoon where your play on that day earned you drawing tickets. Ten seniors earned $500 apiece in the drawing.
Playing on a $5 machine for two or three hours usually meant I would be called in the drawing. The vast majority of seniors played for smaller stakes — including quarter Full Pay Deuces Wild — and few seniors earned nearly as many drawing tickets as I did. On occasion, one of the other seniors would come up to me and tell me in no uncertain terms that it was unfair of me to play the $5 machine on Thursdays. “The rest of us can’t compete with that. Go back to the Strip where you belong!”
I didn’t argue with these players. I just listened to what they had to say. I understood the point, and there was the possibility that these same complainers would talk to casino management about my “unfair” presence. Since I was a winning player there, enough complaints and the casino might be motivated to “fix the problem” by removing the machine or removing my welcome. Neither of these solutions appealed to me. So, whenever I was drawn, I would skip playing for the next week or two. There’s a big difference between winning semi-regularly and winning all the time.
But it wasn’t these players who led to the title of today’s blog.
Next to the $5 8/5 Bonus Poker progressive machine was a $5 8/5 Double Double Bonus machine. Many times when I was playing on Thursdays, the same guy was playing the DDB machine. This is a 96.8% game when played well — which this guy didn’t. How much he ended up losing, I don’t know, but it must have been a lot. He was always glum — and totally untalkative. His silence may have been due to the fact that he was losing — or he might have just been a quiet guy.
One day I ended up hitting AAAA4 on my machine. On my machine, where kickers don’t matter, it was worth $2,000. On his machine, it would have been worth $10,000. I was pleased with the result, of course, but gloating would have been insensitive. He was probably losing that day and “needed” such a hand to catch up.
He groaned audibly. Seeing the hand he needed on the machine next door doesn’t affect the odds on his machine, of course, but he seemed devastated. He probably figured that my hand had “used up” the aces with a kicker quota for the day because he cashed out and left the machine, and probably left the casino, before I was even paid. Usually he stayed for the drawing — where he was called with regularity but $500 didn’t come close to what earning the tickets cost him.
He skipped the drawing that day, I think. At least, I didn’t see him. He must have been pretty upset. As was often the case when I played there. I got called that week at the drawing. I got enough evil eyes from some of the quarter players — but none from my fellow $5 player who wasn’t around.
Although I was glad I hit four aces — with or without a meaningless-to-me kicker — I didn’t draw that hand on purpose. As if I could. If I had the power to make aces with a kicker show up on my machine whenever I wanted, I assure you I’d be playing a different game for much higher stakes. But I can’t. Nor can any of us.
When I saw him again three weeks later, we were both playing our usual games. We didn’t discuss what happened “last time.” Or anything else for that matter. He was just his normal sullen self while I quietly played to earn drawing tickets.