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Do you like black jack?
It used to be a big thing around here. Used to. You can ask anyone: ever since they closed down the Indian casino it's been pretty hard to find a table. There are little tables here and there, mostly charity stuff, games with kids, that sort of thing. But for the man who just wants to throw down and really work: the gamblers, the hot shakers, the real men, you know—it's hard. Sure there's poker, and that's cool, but what I'm talking about is black jack. Twenty-one. Pontoon. Really putting your balls out on the table.
Lucky for you I know a guy, a dealer. He's a one man casino. He'll sit you down where ever you want –your house , his house, the library, where ever—and deal you a hand. Just like the real thing. He carries a wad of cash in his pocket like I've never seen—it has to be at least seventeen hundred dollars. That's just how he rolls, man: a stack of cash and a deck of cards. No bullshit. He's the house, for real. You win, he'll fork over the dough like it isn't even his. Straight up and down. If you lose, of course, he'll take whatever you put on the table. Don't try to argue with him or ask for a refund. Who would argue with a casino? What the hell is wrong with you?
If you want in, just let me know—I've gotta introduce you to him before you can start playing. He's real nervous about new people. He won't act nervous, of course, but later on he'll call and say how mad he is. I don't want that. He's one of my best friends. Me and him been through a lot. Back in the day we used to play baseball together. He was shortstop, I was first base. So you know we've got that connection. I don't see him too much these days, though. Just when we're playing black jack, which isn't often for me. I lost my job a few months back, and haven't been able to find anything full-time.
Do you need any yard work done?
