You took my eight....

That is what some jackass Indian dude said to me on the blackjack table after I hit on fourteen and busted. I didn't really mind until he looked at me and said it again and then I proceeded to ask him who he was (that is the G-rated version of my conversation). To be honest, unless I am playing at a table with my buddies, I don't really care how the other players fare. Maybe that is bad etiquette, but I am certainly not going to help some dude who is acting like a dick.

The most important part of the bachelor party weekend (not my bachelor party) was that among masses of dudes dipping, I did not take part. Tins everywhere staring me in the face, but no problems at all.

“People go to casinos for the same reason they go on blind dates - hoping to hit the jackpot. But mostly, you just wind up broke or alone in a bar.”

Very true. I also note that no matter what, one of your buddies will bitch about how they lost so much money and that they feel nauseous about it. Granted you should expect that going into a casino, you will probably drop some serious cash. Still though, losing dough is no fun. Good thing I walked out with a nice payoff!