How My Car Helped Me Kick My Gambling Habit

By: Andrew Bernhardt


I’m a major gambling addict. It all started when I was 6 years old and another kid on the playground bet me a nickel that I wouldn’t leap off of the top of the monkey bars. Looking back on that day, it seems like a bad bet to make, but let me tell you, after all the bones healed, I was the king of first grade.

On the day I turned 21, I went straight to Vegas and was at the tables in no time. But I learned a harsh lesson. The house always wins! It was a blow to discover this, and I set my mind on finding a solution.

Over the next month I devoted myself to learning card-counting, a method of memorization which allows the player to make smarter bets. First I mastered one deck, then worked myself up to four. When I was confident in my abilities, I knew it was showtime.

I put on my best duds and sauntered into the Bellagio, and up to the blackjack table.

For the first few hands, I kept my bets to the minimum to test my skills—and lo and behold, the method worked! In glee, I raise my bet to $100, and then, $200. After I had won around $1000, I called it quits and left the casino, thinking of my newfound powers. Clearly, I had discovered the keys to the kingdom, or what might be called the goose that laid the golden egg.

My first order of business was to buy the brand new Corvette I had been eyeing for awhile. It was a beautiful maroon color and had the finest brakes and brake pads. I rented a couple floozies bought a bottle of Patron, and rode up and down the strip in style. But that night, I knew it was time to get back to business.

I returned to the casino and this time, went to the big ballers table, where the minimum bet was $50,000. There I was, cheek by jowl with oil sheiks and Japanese businessmen and I was winning like a mofo. But alas, my hubris was my downfall. Pretty soon the dealer and pit boss noticed that I was up $2 million and counting.

A hulking and sinister man suddenly appeared behind me and said:

“Sir, step away from the table."

He had a cattle prod in has hand and it was clear that he meant business.

I shrieked in terror, flung my chips into the man’s face, and took off, racing through the casino. I leaped over slot machines, pushed over cocktail waitresses and punched old ladies that were foolish enough to get in my way. I looked back and saw the man gaining on me, and I noticed his cattle prod was shooting off sparks.?

Then I remembered my new Corvette! I ran outside, spotted it and leapt inArticle Search, gunning the engine and racing off with a roar. I bet ya $500 I can make it to LA in an hour!

Cars
 • 
 • 
 • 
 • 
 • 
 • 
 • 
 • 
 • 
 • 
 • 
 • 
 • 
 • 
 • 
 • 
 • 
 • 
 • 
 • 

» More on Cars