Service Workers: The New Panhandlers

This one is going to get salty.  It’s a subject I am especially passionate about.  Many times, as I write these, I am able to hide my emotions.  As you have seen, I have shown substantial restraint in recent posts.  Sure, I called Palin a trailer park media whore with no noticeable attributes except a hot ass and a rockin’ set of hooters.  But, that was poignant and, well, correct.

I’m going to spill it now.  Motherfucker.  Son of a bitch.  Shit.  Sophomoric?  Probably.  Necessary?  Ithink so.  I don’t want any complaints from here on out.  There will be a whole lot of “fuck bombs” on this one.  I’m sorry, I know that offends Liz…long story (read the comments).  You all are lucky I made it this far on this subject.  This one has been building up.  Years of frustration will likely explode into what can only be described as an orgasmic rant.

You sons of bitches.  You have dicked me and the American public out of millions (I know that dicked is not a word, Microsoft Office).  I’m speaking of you “service workers”.  Let’s be honest, for a lot of you “service worker” is a significant stretch.  Let me get to it.

Why the fuck do I have to overpay my bill in the form of an undeserved tip, every time you get off your lazy, fat asses to perform even the most miniscule of tasks?  Which tasks?  The ones I JUST FUCKING PAID FOR in the form of my GODDAMN BILL!! 

I came to your establishment.  Before I got there, the people at corporate decided how much to charge me.  That price was based on a number of factors, one of which was the correct amount to charge me to cover the cost of providing me you to complete that service.  They have determined how to attract the lowest level employee that I would find acceptable to perform this service and, well, they hired you.  When I came into your establishment, I made a purchase.  You completed the steps to fill my order.  I paid my bill.  At the end of your pay period, your corporate office will pay you.  Do you understand the process?

Oh, really?  You understand?  Really?  I don’t believe you.  You know why I don’t believe you?  BECAUSE THERE IS A FUCKING TIP JAR RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME WITH TWO WELL PLACED DOLLARS TO TRY AND SHAME ME INTO PAYING YOU MORE FOR THE SERVICE THAN THE DECISION MAKERS IN THIS TRANSACTION HAVE ALREADY DETERMINED IS FAIR!!  Furthermore, I thought I was going to get out of overpaying you by giving you a card….ohh…nope…lookey there!...a line conveniently placed to add a tip.  So, sandwich maker at Jimmy John’s, how much more do you want?  Fuck this shit.

I am sick and fucking tired of overpaying you panhandling bastards for doing the job you’re being paid to perform.  Fuck you guys.  You guys can eat a dick.  I don’t give two shits that you have kids…so do I.  I don’t care that you poorly performed in life and are now schlepping shitburgers at the local Turk and Jerk.  Get a fucking degree.  Why do I have to pay you more because you suck at life?

This country has gone apeshit with these “tip opportunities”.  Let’s remember something: waiters and waitresses earn tips as a significant part of their salary.  They earn SUBSTANTIALLY less per hour than your typical “service worker”.  You earn minimum wage.  Waiters do not.  They earn less, because it is understood that people will pay them in the form of tips based on their level of service.  But, you can’t have it both ways.

You can’t earn minimum wage AND earn tips for menial work.  One or the other.  Pick a lane dickbreath.  I love pay for performance.  I think all of you should make $3.00 per hour and then make it up in tips.  But, the corporate guys will drop my price to reflect that I am now covering your salary.  If you work for me, you better learn to dance.  I’ll pay you well, but you better put a smile on that face.  You better provide the happy ending.  You better make Daddy feel like a real man.  Let’s see you grab those ankles.  Wider.  Wider.  Yeah, that’s right!

I’m good with that, when do you want to start.  Oh…you don’t want to earn the pay do you?  You want me to give you some shit.  Where’s your sign?  Where’s your sob story?  This isn’t a highway overpass.

Let’s go over some especially douchey culprits:

 Jimmy John’s Gourmet Sandwich employee.  Are you fucking joking?  You guys are the biggest asshole restaurant workers in the industry!  Every time I walk in this place I feel like you feel that you just did me a huge favor by slapping some turkey on a hoagie bun.  The only reason I tip you sometimes, is because I feel like half of you are likely criminals and I am scared you will steal my credit card number if I tick you off.  I mean, if I have one more Jimmy John’s asshole nonchalantly pound in my order and then ignore me as he jibber jabbers with his pals, I am going to take my hoagie and give ‘em the high hard one!  Could you guys be less service oriented?  It’s like they train you to be derelicts and assholes.  The whole corporate culture seems to have been developed around the belief that your customers are nuisances.  Ohh…super!...a tip line on my credit card receipt.

Starbucks employee.  Come on.  Let’s cut the shit, hippie.  You just poured me a “cup of coffee”.  Yeah, I know, you a “barista”.  That’s awesome.  Congratulations.  You know what you just did, fancy pants?  You just got me a “cup of coffee”.  Right, it was $17.  It was a “cup of coffee”.  Yeah, yeah…I get it….you “served” me a mocha-double-floopitini-with a slice of flooglehorns.  You know what else you did?  You just got me a cup of fucking coffee.  You made $10 an hour serving coffee.  Your company also gives you stock options and FULL fucking medical coverage for serving coffee a minimum of 20 hours per week!  I don’t even have full medical coverage and you only work part-time!  Get the fuck over yourselves.  You serve coffee and get compensated like a mid level executive.  Count your blessings barista bitches!  The next time I pay you eight times the normal cost for a cup of coffee and further finance your insane fringe benefit package, how about you strap on your knee pads and pucker up.  Or at least, for the love of God, could you shower?

Chinese food service guy.  Don’t you own the restaurant?  I mean, you came up with the prices, right?  You realize I just repeated my order eight times before you screamed it back to your pals in Cantonese, right?  You know I don’t even know if I got Kung Pao Chicken or Ho Chi Minh Pitbull (although I suspect the latter)?  You know I don’t appreciate that the stir fry guy keeps giggling as he prepares my Pitbull, right?  You know this is the dirtiest kitchen in the suburbs…you know that…the board of health told you last week…and, well, the week before.  No offense, but if you are going to overcharge me….errrrrr….request a tip, could you at least kill that roach over there?

Casino dealers.  You work for the biggest bloodsuckers in the country.  Don’t get me wrong, I love me some Blackjack and Poker.  But, unless I am trying to impress someone or am completely, insanely, stupid drunk (either of which is entirely possible), why would I give you money?  Your employers almost rob people to build opulent monstrosities that entice even more schmucks to drop money they don’t have to purchase a lottery ticket for which there isn’t even a drawing.  You are the deputies that administer the torture.  You bring in thousands an hour to your employer.  How about you go ask for a raise “Skippy” from Albuquerque?  

Doormen.  Unless you are knowledgeable about the area’s best hookers I see no reason to tip you.  Leave the door closed.  I’m not a princess, I can open it.

Taxi guy that doesn’t have change.  Bullshit – do you really think this move is fresh?

Fat, ugly bartender girl with the bitchy attitude and high prices.  HA!  You have way too much going on here.  Back it up (turn on your truck back up beeper if a person your size is required to do so by local law).   You want $15 for my wife’s Long Island Iced Tea…okay (it is probably a good investment considering what I have in mind later).  You have a bad attitude…expected.  A little junk in the trunk?  It is Indiana, I guess.  But, what the fuck is that growing on your eyelid?  Strike four.  The bourbon is good, but that thing is atrocious.  Hey, on second thought, if I give you this shiny nickel, will you go pay a rat in the alley to gnaw that thing off your head on your next break?  In the meantime, send your co-worker “Miss Perky Tits” down here to roll her eyes at me while she gets me a drink…I’ll pay extra for that.

Ugly girl at the strip club wandering around the showroom ASKING for tips.  I had the opportunity to tip you while you were on stage.  We all did.  We chose not to.  We were fine with leaving it at this.  We were trying to be courteous.  Honestly, they were trying to be courteous.  I am trying to forget what I just saw.  That was brutal.  If I were to give you a dollar for getting naked, it would send the wrong message.  You would believe that the epileptic seizure that you called a striptease was pleasant.  I know you don’t understand this, but in a way, I am trying to help.  Consider me a Samaritan…a good one.  You need to find something else.  The dream is over.  The effort was noble.  However, you don’t have what it takes kid.  It’s okay.  First, I can see your rib cage.  This place has a great $1.99 Prime Rib on Thursdays…I suggest you check it out.  Second, Jesus!  What’s that smell?  Next, I’m pretty sure you are on meth, as is evidenced by that uneasy twitch you have.  Finally, nothing says sexy like torn faded panties…I’m not that drunk!  Besides, I only came in this skank convention to feel better about myself.  And, more than anything, when you asked me for a tip, it was sort of sad…but empowering.  Most of the other strippers are so bitchy and uppity.  It’s kind of nice to turn the tables and tell you to take a hike after your demeaning and desperate cry for my attention.  That’s right!  That’s how Daddy rolls.

Here’s the deal a-holes: you haven’t earned a tip.  You don’t deserve a tip.  You were already paid for your service.  I already fucking paid you…do you understand?  My price included your eye rolling, your self righteous behavior, your shit service, your embarrassment, your funny little fucking hat, your huffing, your puffing, all of it.  All that shit was included in my price.  There is no need for the jar.  I am not tipping you. 

Memo to managers trying to decide whether to put a tip line on your receipts: “Don’t do it”.  Unless you are a restaurant with waiters and waitresses that do more than make sandwiches or pour coffee.  It’s not worth it.  I will stop coming here.  I am not alone.  Others will avoid you, too.  I promise.  People will hate you.  It’s fast food.  It’s coffee.  It’s not the Ritz. 

A very astute young man mentioned this to me while I was preparing this piece: “when you get bad service, you should put a negative number on the tip line and then subtract it from the total”.  Think about it.  The line at the bottom of the receipt is a total line.  We learned that in second grade (you will likely need to provide this instruction to your service provider).  By MATHEMATICAL LAW, they have to honor this.  They have to!  Math is WAY bigger than Jimmy John’s.  They can’t not accept mathematical law!  $10 + -3 = $7 every day of the week, Cowboy!

I am sorry to those of you that dislike my “fuck bombs”.  Liz…my condolences.  I hate being negative.  But, this is a subject that requires us all to make sacrifices and breach our comfort zones.  You need to be on my side.  We need to stand together.  We need to fight the tyranny that these bastards are trying to invoke.  Power to the fucking people.  Be strong.  Be reasonable. 

-B. Iconic

Dodge Neons, Street Racing, an Obvious Lie, and the Mad Kazoo

Driving down the street today, I was startled when the car in the lane next to me accelerated and made what can only be described as a very loud kazoo noise.  Right away, I was a bit worried that I was under attack by some sort of vindictive clown posse.  Or perhaps the old man street performer that I had stiffed for a tip last week after enjoying his merry kazoo ensemble for free had finally tracked me down.

To my surprise, it was a race car!  A race car!  Right on the street!  It was a race car!  No, it wasn’t your typical race car with a big engine and a shitload of horse power.  It wasn’t overly aerodynamic, but it was clearly sporty.  It didn’t appear to be used in actual races at some sort of race track.  However, I swear to God it was a race car.

As it zoomed away from me at a breakneck street race speed of more than 53 mph, I was able to catch a quick glimpse of the model.  It was something exotic and it took several minutes for it to register – one because I was awestruck by the coolness of the notion that a real-life racecar just passed me.  I am not totally sure, but I think it said “Dodge Neon”.

Wow.  I mean, fucking wow!  A Dodge Neon in sleepy little Fishers, IN!  What great fortune I had!  Do you not understand how exotic these are?  List price: $14,000.  That’s a “14” and 3 “0’s”!  And believe me, it wasn’t just a stock outfit.  It had a spoiler which was clearly needed because of the breakneck speeds that these things can travel at.  Spinner wheels…not your typical Dodge Neon wheel choice.  Glass pack exhaust to enhance the “Mad Kazoo” sound effects.  A vanity plate that said “zoom” or something.   And, because I am sure that the driver’s comfort is crucial during long distance races, the seats appear to be upgraded to “racin’ seats”. 

Come on d-bags.  When is this fashion statement going to end?  I know there are a select few of you that are true gear heads that like the lighter car bodies because they tend to be faster.  I know a few of you put forth a lot of time, money, and effort to actually build a race car.  Props to you if you are a true street racer.  Now, that said, the rest of you yahoos need to stop it!  Nobody believes you have a supped up engine in an $8 Dodge Neon frame that looks like, well, an $8 Dodge Neon frame.

I would even be okay if you wanted to build a rocket.  I would be happy for you if you were able to go fast.  I would be ecstatic if you were able to impress the parking lot queens from the local Walmart with your piece of shit cars.  I don’t even care that you look like fucking retards and everyone else on the road is secretly laughing at you (we’re not stupid, we know what a Dodge Neon is).  Way to go! 

Here’s where I draw the line: when you enhance the exhaust to boost the stock Dodge Neon engine from 8 horsepower to 9 horsepower and cause me to be startled while I drive my non-“racecar”.   That’s where I draw the line.  When I’m sitting in my house and you rev your “mad kazoo” powered engine and wake my kids, that’s where I have a problem. 

Why do you have to be kazoo players anyway?  Would it not be cool to be stealthy?  Think how cool it would be to silently pass the grandmother in the Cadillac….errrrrrr…..other race car…in front of you?  She wouldn’t know what hit her!  Are you compensating?  Is it because you are driving a Dodge Neon?  Are you embarrassed by your small pecker?  You figure if you install the Kazoo Exhaust we will be mesmerized and forget about the fact that your top speed is 55 mph with the wind behind you?

Nobody is buying it.  The jig is up.  We are pretty sure you are all closet homosexuals.  You are most certainly irritating idiots.  Perhaps if you stopped buying “upgrades” for your Dodge Neons you could afford a real fucking car.  

Attention Members of Facebook: Just Because the Little Box at the Top of the Page Asks “What’s on Your Mind” Does NOT Mean You Have to Answer

Read Time: 6 Minutes

A quick scan of my Facebook produced the following knowledge:

Two friends are on their way to work.

One friend is on their way home from work.

Another is going to bed.

One is eating oatmeal.

And five are glad it’s Friday…TGIF.

There were other updates that were slightly more or, surprisingly, less interesting than these gems.  Let me ask you guys something: why?

This is becoming an increasingly disturbing epidemic among social networks like Facebook, Twitter, and MySpace (provided MySpace is still in business...way too screw the pooch on that one, Murdoch).  This may seem frivolous to some, but I'm telling you it's a serious problem.

TGI fucking F???…that’s not fresh!  Uncle Jesse called, he needs you to pick up Danny for the circle jerk!...TGIF...God I hate that saying...“I’m going to work”?...who the fuck cares?...I hate work…I certainly don’t want to be burdened with your suckfest life, too! 

Just because the little box at the top of the screen asks “what’s on your mind”, you don’t really have to answer if what’s on your mind really sucks.  Before you start typing, keep in mind that all of your people (friends, co-workers, associates, etc.) are going to be subjected to this remark.  Sure, it may not seem like much.  It may seem like you only wasted five seconds telling us that you were “watching TV then going to bed”.  But, it’s not just five seconds.  It’s more like 5 seconds to read, 30 seconds for us to calm ourselves down after realizing that you just fucked us out of part of our life, and then 30 seconds to talk ourselves out of driving over to your house and shoving your iPhone with the Facebook app up your ass.  Multiply this by every friend you have (let’s say 150) and this means you have just wasted nearly three hours of society’s time.  Three hours!  You shut down America’s workforce for three goddamn hours to tell us you were “brushing your teeth and then going to bed”.

Somewhere along the line we have lost track of this whole Web 2.0 thing.  Social networking sites have become inundated with crap messages from boring people who should probably go ahead and jump rather than bore us with their shitty Facebook updates and excruciating tweets.  This was not the point of these sites.  The point was to derive entertainment through interesting communications between acquaintances.  It is a chance for you to express your creativity and allow people a window into your life.  But nobody needs to look into these windows.

I know a girl on Facebook whose last ten posts were:

“off to work”

“1 more day until the weekend”

“is happy for TGIF”

“is home”

“is going to bed.  Night.”

“is off to work”

“enjoyed another day”

“says goodnight”

“is at work”

“is at work” (twice in a row)

Deleted.  Let me ask you: do you not want to lay a verbal beatdown on this chick?  Does this not anger you?  Why?  Why does she continue to do this?  Every day I opened Facebook and saw this.  EVERY DAY!

Let’s make a pact.  Let’s all agree that we will make an effort to make our Facebook status updates quasi interesting.  Even if we have to lie, let’s make an effort.  I’m okay with the fact that your life sucks.  It’s fine.  It’s nothing to be ashamed of.  The problem is, you can’t keep your cursor out of the “what’s on your mind box”.  If you refuse to just suffer through it (your life), at least lie to me.  This is your chance.  Make me believe that your life does not blow.  I’m fucking gullible…I’ll buy it!  Seriously.  

Here are some examples of improvements to social networking status updates: “Enjoyed another day” should be “got laid today…still spasming”.  “Says goodnight” could also be “need to stop spying on my hot neighbor as she undresses and get some sleep”.  “I’m at work” could be: “Jesus, I think the last girl on the pole farted”.  Instead of: "Work sucked", try "Wow, I feel like such a whore.  I worked the pole for eight straight hours and only managed one deep tuck".  Replace: "tired" with: "you might think goats are easy to control, but you obviously haven't tried to 'romance' one...those little suckers are squirmy, I'm all tuckered out".  “TGIF” (God I HATE that term) could be “sheeoot! Me and Uncle Skeeter’s gonna get us a sixer, tie one on, and go shootin’ this weekund!”

Come on friends.  Come on Facebookers.  Entertain me!  Make me smile.  Make me mad!  Make me hate you.  Make me admire you.  Make me jealous.  Make me hard...please.  For Christ’s sake, say something interesting or stop telling us what’s on your mind!  Before you place your cursor in the box, think.  Before you type, think.  As your typing, embellish.  If it comes down to it, flat out lie to me!  Whatever goes in that box needs to be interesting, funny, entertaining, or even irritating.  Otherwise, you have just wasted 3 hours of our time together as a society.

-B. Iconic

Make Steve Wynn your bitch for the night in Las Vegas

Estimated read time: 15 minutes.  Estimated potential
benefit: $1000’s.

Before we get going, let me just say that I consider Steve a colleague - a true icon in every sense of the word.  Sure he’s insanely rich.  He’s immensely successful.  He is a captain of industry.  What makes him an icon, however, is his humility and pragmatism.  What makes him an icon is his innovation.  What makes him an icon is his worthiness as an adversary.  For as much as I respect Steve Wynn, believe that when I step foot off the plane at McCarran Airport, I have one goal: “to make Steve Wynn my bitch tonight”.

The following is a part of the Iconic Skill Set - Income Generation

Iconicvoyage.com concentrates on developing skills needed for ordinary people to achieve the status of “Icon”.

Card Counting – It’s not just for Rainman!

Icons should have a large skill set that can be called upon to generate income in a multitude of situations.  One of these crucial income generation skills is that of card-counting while playing blackjack at casinos.  There is a lot of myth around card counting.  The Las Vegas casinos would like you to believe that it is impossible.  It is not.  They would like you to believe that it is cheating.  It is not.  Steve Wynn would like you to believe that it is illegal.  He knows better.

ICON SAFETY TIP:

Card counting is NOT illegal.  Casinos would like you to believe that it is.  Casinos like nothing more than to administer a solid ass-raping when you come to their establishment.  Card counting is like a well timed “clinch”.  BE DISCREET!  They will certainly treat you like a criminal if they catch you.  Casinos can force anyone to leave at anytime and can bar you from returning.  It is absolutely their right under law.  Casinos hate winners, but they especially hate winners who they feel cheated them.  Sometimes, they don’t simply ask you to leave.  Sometimes they want to invite you to a tour of their back room.  Your answer to this invitation is “Fuck no, I was just leaving”.  You don’t have to go no matter what they say.  You have not committed a crime.  Simply get up and leave and do not cause even a hint of a disturbance.

Now that you are hip to the back room scam, let’s begin a lesson in simple card counting.  There are several methods out there.  Some of them are more complicated than others. Unless, one of the readers of this article is Rainman, the complicated methods are completely useless.  Don’t worry - your guy is gonna hook you up, playa! 

There are a couple of nonnegotiable truths that need to be communicated and that you must accept.  No deviations.  This is how it is.  If you don’t want to invest the time to become an icon at the blackjack table, please go play craps, roulette, or some type of mind-numbing slot game.  Dimwits will probably have more fun with these options.  The goals of an icon are to have fun, make some decent coin, possibly bang a hot chick, and show Daddy Wynn how we roll.

ICONIC TRUTH 1:  Blackjack is one of three games that are beatable in Las Vegas casinos.  The other two are Baccarat and Poker.  Any other games (i.e. craps, roulette, slots, Pai Gow Poker, etc) are not winnable consistently.  I know you think you have a “system”.  It is only good fortune that you haven’t been bankrupted by the Wynn, MGM, Bellagio, a riverboat, etc.  You might as well play carnie games.

ICONIC TRUTH 2:  This is not a get rich quick method.  Your goal is to transform yourself into a player that can consistently play well.  This will influence your results on the aggregate (overall).  You WILL have short term losses, periodically.  I am not hedging, but to think that you will go into the casino and administer a royal beat down on a Las Vegas casino for $80G’s like in the movie “The Hangover” is a pipe dream.  You WILL have huge gains SOME nights.  You WILL win consistently long term.  But, make sure you are playing at a level you can afford to sustain for a lengthy period of time.  I like to sit at the table with at least 50 betting units.  This means if I am playing a $10 game, I need $500.  The “betting unit” in this case is $10.  This sounds like an excessive bankroll for such a small game, but when you read this full posting, you will understand that $10 is a minimum.  Throughout the game you will be playing for much more.  There is no way to ELIMINATE risk, but in Blackjack, you can minimize it.  The house’s advantage in Blackjack is much lower than it is in other games.  By playing well, you can reduce the odds to almost even.  Finally, by card counting, you can actually turn this small house advantage into a small advantage for the icon!  Think a small advantage isn’t profitable?  Look around the Vegas Strip.  See all those mega resorts?  They were all built with small, consistent advantages over the average player.  Essentially, if you develop these skills, you become the house…try gaining that advantage over a Wheel of Fortune slot machine….yeah, I know: “It’s due, Grandma!”  “WHEEL…OF…FORTUNE” – sucker. 

ICONIC TRUTH 3:  You have to play “Basic Strategy” flawlessly.  I am not going to get into why Basic Strategy is important.  There are numerous books on the subject, pick one up (I’d suggest “Beat the Dealer” by Edward O. Thorp).  The FACT is that in order to have any success long term, you HAVE TO PLAY BASIC STRATEGY FLAWLESSLY.  Basic strategy needs to be memorized.  It’s second nature. 

Splitting aces, doubling eleven except against an ace, hitting 15 against a dealer’s 10.  It doesn’t matter what your unscientific experience has been - you have not done enough unbiased study.  You hit 15 or 16 against a ten EVERY fucking time!!  If you can’t memorize basic strategy, because you are incompetent, drunk, or stupid, you can pick up a card at the casino gift shop that has basic strategy scenarios and proper plays.  These cards will tell you when to hit, stand, split, double down, etc. based on the current scenario.  One caveat: if you can’t learn basic strategy, you are probably destined to fail at card counting…sorry.  There is nothing wrong with holding on to the card (in fact, it may serve as a nice cover up to the fact that you are counting cards), but you should be able to play the vast majority of scenarios without it.  Here is a basic strategy table that you should practice memorizing.

BASIC STRATEGY:

Know it.  Love it.  Live it.

A couple hard and fast rules that you NEVER deviate from:

·         Always split aces

·         Always stand at 17

·         Always stand with A8, A9, A10, and 10-10…please do not split tens…you look like a complete fucking tool and the entire table will hate you.

·         Always play 5-5 as ten

·         Always split 8-8…why?...because I said so.

·         Never sit at a table with an automatic shuffler…you can’t count an automatic shuffler, numbnuts!

·         If a game allows dealers to hit a soft 17, it is bad for you

·         Bad players at a table can completely fuck your chances…their actions affect the outcome of the game as much as yours do…if you cannot assist and/or shame them into playing better (through a series of suggestions, eye rolls, sighs, snide comments, or blatant “what the fuck are you doing/only assholes play like that” comments), you must leave the table

·         Always double on eleven, except against an ace.

THE CHART

I put together a basic blackjack strategy chart for reference.  You need to either memorize the entire chart or carry it with you.  You will probably look slightly cooler with my chart since it has the official iconicvoyage.com logo on it, but I digress.

Download Here

WHO’S YOUR DADDY, MR. WYNN?

Now that you are an expert at basic strategy, the casino has a significantly smaller edge over you.  However, they still enjoy a slight edge that is powerful enough to enable them to add a new wing to the Mack Daddy Suite portion of Caesars Palace within the next few months, even if everyone played perfectly.

However, you, being an icon, are going to change the game.  You are an alpha.  You will bend the hotel over.  The pit boss will know your name and scream it in agony.  You will make them grab their ankles.  You will play the position of “pitcher” while the rest of the table (including the dealer) gets in line to play “catcher”.  Hope you stretched and make sure you lube up…we’re icons not jerks!

BASIC CARD COUNTING:

Rain Man memorized the cards in a six deck shoe.  You are not Rain Man.  (Note: If you are Rain Man, why are you reading this?  Fucking Wapner is on in like 5 minutes!)  Therefore, you need a method that is decidedly simpler than memorizing which cards are left out of the 192 cards in the deck.  Note: the fact that you didn’t catch that last sentence is proof that you need to pay more attention.  There are actually 312 cards in a six deck shoe. 

TRUTH 4: More high cards left in the deck are better for the player than more low cards.  More low cards left in the deck are better for Steve Wynn and the House (think about being dealt fifteen or watching the dealer draw out 14 cards to make 21…bastard!).  The player will win more consistently (as a matter of statistical fact) when the remaining decks have a greater number of high cards than low cards.  (If you would like to know the mathematics behind this, go look it up). 

Great!  How the fuck do I know how many high cards are left without memorizing what’s been played?  Good question!  You count them.  More accurately, you calculate the ratio of high to low cards based on a running indicator that clues you into how “hot” (more high cards) or “cold” (more low cards) the deck is relative to when the deck was initially dealt.  We do this by simply adding +1 when a low card is removed (dealt) from the remaining decks and by subtracting -1 when a good card (high card) comes out.  We don’t count the mid level cards because they are statistically neutral.  The higher the number (the running count) the better/hotter/more profitable the deck is.  Clear?  Let’s begin.

Parameters
When the deck is shuffled and placed in the shoe, you begin your count at 0.
Each time the dealer pulls a card from the shoe, you need to inconspicuously assign a “score” to each card dealt and tally up all the cards played (remember if they suspect you of this, they will not be happy).

·         In your mind, start adding/subtracting based on the following:

o   For every low card that appears on the table (2, 3, 4, 5, 6) = +1

o   For every high card that appears on the table (10, J, Q, K, A) = -1

o   7s, 8s, and 9s are neutral…disregard them = 0

o   Here’s a sample deal with 3 players and a dealer

  Player 1: 5-5
          +2
  Player 2: 10 – 5
          +/- 0
  Player 3: 4 -4
          +2
  Dealer: 10 – 10

 -2

What is the running count?    (2+0+2-2=2)


Now, keep the count throughout the entire shoe.


As hands go by, you will be able to make an assessment of the cards left in the deck.  You should be able to label the deck hot, cold, or neutral.  For instance, if after a few hands your running count is 12, the deck could be labeled hot.  Why?  More low cards have come out of the shoe than high cards.  This bodes well for you in future hands.  You are more likely to win with the “hot” deck with an inordinate amount of 10’s and Aces.  If after a few hands the running count is at -8, you know that a significant number of high cards have now been played – relative to low cards.  The deck is cold.  Future hands are statistically more likely to favor Steve Wynn.  If the count after a few hands is 0, the deck is no colder nor hotter than it was when it was first shuffled.  The odds of winning are relatively close to losing future hands if you are playing perfect basic strategy.

Great!  Now you know how to count cards.  Yeah!  Oh, that doesn’t help much does it?  Simply counting the cards and keeping track of when the deck is hot does nothing for your bankroll!

YOU ARE A GOD…TAKE WHAT’S RIGHTFULLY YOURS!

He who has the knowledge controls the market, right?  Imagine if you could determine when the stock market was going to rise.  Imagine if you knew when it was going to fall.  What would you do?  You’d buy more stock before it rose and pull out money before it fell!  This is precisely the position you are now in at the blackjack table.

You now need to know how to play God with the blackjack market.  Let me help you…because I like you.

Up till now, you have been calculating a running count.  +1, -1 and this has led you to a rough estimate of who has the deck’s favor (you or the house).  However, it is not a complete number.  You have not taken into account how many cards are left in the shoe.  This is crucial to know just how hot or cold the deck really is. 

Let’s say you are sitting at a table that is being played with a six deck shoe.  After three hands you have calculated the running count to be +12.  Favorable, right?  Now, look at the shoe.  Estimate how many of the six decks are remaining.  Let’s say you estimate there are 5 decks left in the shoe.  This means about one deck has been dealt.  Divide the running count (+12) by the number of decks left (5).  The result is the true count.  In this case, 12/5 = 2.4 or about 2.

We said before that if we knew the market was going to rise, we would get more money in.  How much more should we put in?  It should be relative to how good the market is, right?  What if we took our true count and multiplied by the average bet that we are playing at the table?  This average bet is our “betting unit”.  For instance, if we calculate our true count is 2 and we have an average starting bet of $10, the next hand, we should bet $20.  If we were playing a minimum bet of $25, we would now bet $50, and so on.  When the deck is cold, or running at a negative “true count” or even at a neutral count we would drop our next bet to our minimum betting unit.  This way we are betting high when the deck is favorable and low when the deck is less favorable.  We are engaging in a kind of insider trading scheme.  We get more money in the market before the good times hit (a proportionally relative amount) / we pull back our investment just before the Blackjack market sucks.  Look at you!  You’re like a Wall Street super trader!  Now slap a high five to the dweeb from Albuquerque, pass your room key to the Hooters girl next to you, shrug your shoulders and tell them how lucky you are, and walk on, Player…walk on!

TRUTH 5:  Practice this method or you will feel like a retard at the table.  This is an effective and simple way to card count.  It is simple to understand.  It is not simple to implement.  You need to practice.  When you’re at the casino, there will be numerous distractions.  You must be able to maintain the count while carrying on a conversation, acting nonchalant, playing with perfect basic strategy, trying to get a peek down the hot chick’s blouse in the seat next to you, tuning out the yelling and buzzing and bells and whistles on the floor, making conversation with the dweeb from Albuquerque, and having a good time.  Alcohol will make you slow.  Plus one minus one is difficult when the cards are moving fast.  This plus one/minus one counting method must be second nature.  Bottom line: practice, practice, practice…before you get to Vegas!

By the way, tell my colleague Steve I said “hi”!

Epilogue

Icons also share.  They always remember the hookup.  If you want to send me 10% of your winnings for sharing this info, hit me up at iconicvoyage.com or daddydrinksbecauseyoucry@gmail.com and I’ll get you an address to send your checks!  At the very least send this blog to friends, post on Facebook, or give me a Digg!