There is only one game in the
casino where the casino turns control over to the player. Amazing, when I
think about it now. It was during a craps game that I remembered this gift
of power and took advantage of it.
It was just before six in the
morning when I sauntered down from my room at Treasure Island for a game
of craps, before having breakfast with my wife. The casino was quiet at
that time in the morning. Only two dice tables were open. One was empty
and the other had three players, who were just hanging on to their meager
rack of cheques.
The working game had the energy of
a hangover, with cocktail glasses still littering the drink rail from the
night before. It was obvious, by their appearance, that the boys were
leftovers from a long night out. Rule one, if conditions are not honoring,
don’t play. I will not play at a dirty table and with the alcohol induced
demeanor, confirming the low energy of the game, I had one choice.
Naturally, I bought in at the
empty table. Shooting from table end, my dice were looking okay. The crew
were quietly chatting amongst themselves. After a short time, the boxman
joined the game. On a come out roll, setting for sevens, I rolled a
one/two. I followed that with another craps roll, same combination.
The boxman took obvious notice
that I was setting the dice. He politely shared that he had a solution for
my craps roll. I politely ignored him and tossed a third ace duce. The
boxman asked me if I wanted to know the cure for rolling “Jesús”, patting
the craps check bet. I replied, “No hablo español”.
Side tracking here a bit, rolling
three craps in a row signaled a warning. My game was upside down. The
three threes could have just as easily been three winner Yo’s. I did not
know exactly what to expect, but I was put on notice with the three crap
rolls to be alert.
From silent power comes
consolidated energy. Yet, it is still possible to communicate by holding
to a discipline of not talking. If it becomes necessary to speak, at the
least keep comments short, and only address matters of relevance. In a
game of chance I never want to create an opening for a conversation.
The next thing I knew, after being
cute with my Spanish, I received a barrage of questions from the boxman,
while trying to shoot the dice. “Where are you staying, where are you
from, what do you do.” Even the dealers chimed in to the act.
I quickly became aware that they
were messing with me while I was shooting. I couldn’t blame them. What
else did they have to do at six o’clock in the morning, without any
Once the dice were in the air,
“twenty questions” came to a halt, with the crew attending to their
duties. The sudden shift in energy was like a flash of light. That’s when
my inner voice reminded me of the power I held between my thumb and middle
The stickman pushed the dice down
to me and again the interrogation ensued. However, this time I was ready
for a new game. After the dice were passed to me, I made my set, picked up
the dice, and began the motion of shooting. Only this time, as my arm
extended, I did not release the dice, which totally faked out the
In a choreographed sweeping
movement, I nodded my head to the left, gesturing silently, “Okay, you
want to talk, let’s talk.” Waving my dice hand like a conductor leading
the band, I subliminally projected a message into the heart chakra of the
boxman. I beamed him with, “If you want to talk, fine, I will answer your
questions, but, I’m holding the dice.”
My answers switched from short
responses to storytelling, all the while nonchalantly gesturing as if I
had forgotten about the dice in my hand. From my inner focus, I continued
to project a silent message, “You see, boys, I just want a nice quiet
game, but if y’all want to mess with me while I shoot, I’ll be holding on
to these cubes and making up long answers to your dumb questions.”
I could see by the boxman’s eyes
that he was a bit freaked out with me waving his dice around like a flag.
Upon feeling that my message was understood, I stopped my rambling, and
politely said, “Ah, but enough of my bullshit, I came to play dice.” That
ended “twenty questions”. It all went quiet after that act and it lasted
for the rest of my session.
Sure, I suppose I could have been
more direct, requesting a stop to the interrogation. It may have worked.
Who knows? On the other hand, doing so would have, no doubt, confirmed
that the questioning was working as a distraction. Even now, I feel a rise
of emotion as I write this. It is quite possible that a confrontation
could have erupted with continued attempts to mess with me.
Bottom line, I got what I wanted
without any argie-bargie. I was able to keep my composure and
subliminally fired a warning shot across their bow. Emotionally, I was
still in control and I felt that I had regained control of the game. Other
action may have ruined the game and my only recourse would have been to
For the record, I did not do any
real damage. I colored up with enough profit for the breakfast and a toke
for the boys.
Perception of energy is a two way
street. It serves best when perceived as an early warning that something
is amiss. In this case, rolling ace duce, three times, was the signal. I
admit that my engaging in the conversation may appear as a contradiction.
Never the less, the episode lasted less than a minute. The silent power
came in the form of my projected thought, which was clearly perceived by
the crew. They too received an early warning.
More about “perception of
information from the near future” in a blog to follow. I think I will
title it, “Early Warning”.
Copyright ©2017 Michael Vernon
Got a minute for a laugh? I’m the
guy in the tub.