Yes I know it’s in German, but it’s not like the context can’t be derived from just watching it, or most people have already seen it and know what I’m talking about but I’m still giving visual representation.
I’m sitting at a single deck blackjack table at the Paris casino, with a beautiful girl clad in lingerie dealing me cards. The two people at the table with me are jobbing like Kaientai, but I’m faring pretty well for myself. Moments later, a Hispanic man; we’ll call him Pedro Griffin, takes third base, and our table is now four.
On the very first hand, sexy Inna is showing a 4, which means that most people typically would consider standing where they are, unless their cards are equal or less than 11, to which they would take a hit to try and get even closer to 21. A 4 showing means that the dealer has to hit no matter what they flip, and since in the game of blackjack, the player typically assumes the unseen card is always a 10, meaning with a 4, they have a 14, meaning they’re one hit away from busting and leading to a win with all players.
“HEET MEE,” says Pedro, when sexy Inna asks him what he wants to do on his turn. Pedro has a 13, and a hit puts him at risk of busting. Sexy Inna pauses with a confused look on her face, and points at her 4. The two people at the table with me groan that someone unenlightened to “the book” is at the table. And I’m staring at Pedro, pantomiming to wave it off and to stand.
“HEET MEE,” he says again. Sexy Inna obliges. Queen. 23. Bust.
Sexy Inna flips an 8, which means she had a 12, which also means had Pedro not hit, the queen would have busted the dealer, and everyone wins. Naturally, with the bust card now in the past, sexy Inna flips a 7, and the dealer’s 19 beats everyone’s hand.
The two people occupying the first two seats quickly get up and leave. Sexy Inna is called on break, and relieved by sexy Zoe, also clad in the requisite nighttime lingerie that constitutes as the Bally’s group’s “uniform.” I decide to stay because sexy Zoe is also easy on the eyes and that Pedro only bought in with like $30, and at the rate he was playing, he would soon be relieved of such.
In spite of Pedro’s clear lack of understanding of how the game is played, he somehow manages to restrain himself, or be distracted by the also lingerie clad dancers behind the table, to where the sexy Zoe decides to skip his turn and proceed to bust, leading for both of us to win the hand.
A couple sits down to my right, taking up the first two positions on the table. I quickly warn them that Pedro has no clue to what he’s doing, and they’re sitting down putting their money into god’s hands under such circumstances. They’re cool people, despite being obvious Florida State supporters, and appear to just be looking for some fun and not so serious business about their gambling money.
It takes no time at all for them to get a taste of the Pedro experience, as with his very first hand, Pedro is dealt an 18. An 18 is a solid hand, and a very wise move to stand on against a dealer’s 18, because there’s a good chance that a push could occur, and at least no money is lost.
“HEET MEE.”
Sexy Zoe furrows her brow. I frantically tell him to wave it off. The FSU couple is laughing and also saying no.
“HEET MEE!” Pedro says, more enthusiastically.
Sexy Zoe flips the card, and it’s a 3. A fucking 3. Pedro turns a completely ill-advised hit into a 21. Ironically enough, the hit ends up making sexy Zoe bust, and the entire table wins.
Pretty much the same thing happens on the next hand, and I swear that Pedro hit on 20, and actually got an ace. Amazingly, he actually did it just like the video, and hit on 21, and busted the hand, but once again, his reckless ambivalence led to yet another dealer bust, and the rest of us were winning money.
Naturally, such anomalies aren’t going to last forever, so it was funny the first two times, but then the Pedrocoaster began backfiring on the table. After three hands of Pedro recklessly taking the potential bust card from the dealer, the joking subsided, and myself as well as the FSU couple removed our bets from the table entirely. The next three hands were Pedro versus sexy Zoe alone, yet the Pedrocoaster resumed, but he busted twice and got blackjacked the third.
At this point, it appeared that Pedro was out of money, and that it was safe to come back into the game. After sexy Zoe shuffled, the three of us put our bets back in, but then out of fucking nowhere Pedro pulls out two more red chips and joins the fray again. “oh shit” is the collective response from all of us, with sexy Zoe laughing over the absurdity of the situation.
Fortunately, the actual detrimental part of the Pedrocoaster ended on this next hand, because I can’t remember the actual cards Pedro kept heeting on, but I do remember him having six cards in front of him, with the sixth busting him out of the last of his money. Unfortunately, being out of money didn’t necessarily mean that Pedro was going to go away; nope, Pedro decided to stay planted at third base, and enjoy the view of sexy Zoe, sexy Inna, and the sexy go-go dancers in the area.
And if Pedro was a walking disaster while playing the game, imagine my surprise when finding out what he was like while not playing. Usually most casinos tell people who aren’t playing that they can’t sit at the tables, but nobody was telling Pedro to go away. It’s likely due to the fact that he was tipping one of the go-go dancers that it was allowed, but the fact of the matter was that Pedro wasn’t gambling, but still acquiring free drinks by appearing to be gambling, by virtue of sitting at a table.
The thing about me when I’m gambling is that I can put up with just about anything as long as I’m doing well, or feel like I’m doing well. Smarmy, book-worshipping pro posers, who whine and try and coach others into playing in accordance to the book, Quebecois that smoked like fucking chimneys, and earlier in the trip, a miserable New York-New York dealer who clearly hated his life and wanted to make the lives others as miserable by having a sarcastic and condescending rebuttal to every possible inquiry. I will and I did, put up with all of their bullshit, because I was winning money.
But Pedro, man, Pedro. I’ve been to Vegas countless times, and encountered all sorts of people while at a table. But never once, in Vegas much less in my entire life, have I been referred to as a Buddha. And I’ve never had my stomach rubbed for luck to a person who wasn’t even playing.
Every time I was forced to hit against sexy Zoe or sexy Inna’s high cards, and didn’t bust, and managed to eke out a win, Pedro was right there at the end of the table, gleefully proclaiming that I’m the Buddha. At one point, sexy Inna was declared the Buddha for busting after showing a face card first. Another time, one of the pit bosses was proclaimed the Buddha for some reason, but most of the night, I was the one being called the Buddha.
Had I been losing, I probably would have run out of patience long ago, and probably punched him out. Actually, I’d probably have just gotten up and forfeited the lovely view of my sexy dealers, so I didn’t get arrested and booked for assault. But the thing was, as long as Pedro was there, drunkenly proclaiming me or anyone else as Buddha, the wins kept coming. I’m not saying I made a gargantuan amount of money by any stretch of the imagination, but when I did leave, I walked away with house money on top of my buy in, and about six Coronas deep.
In the end, I’m glad that in spite of the blatant racial ignorance and being generally obnoxious, I still walked away successfully. Had that not been the case, I probably wouldn’t have such a fond memory of Pedro being Pedro, and having an awesome story to tell my friends.
