Living in Wonju South Korea, These Many Long Years

Living in Wonju South Korea, These Many Long Years: Version 2.0!

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Casino!

Hilton Casino Seoul

Bored out of my skull, I considered the things I could do that I normally can't during the run of this waeg's average week.

For some reason the idea of going to the casino kept bouncing around inside my little simian brain. Now we aren't talking about the Korean equivalent of a peep show, which for some obscure reason is also called a casino, but the bone fide glittering palaces found in Seoul, the foreigner only places which actually cater largely to Korean Americans and Chosun jok, Chinese Koreans. The more I thought of getting drunk and eating on the casino's dime, being served an endless stream of liquor by cute waitresses while taking a pile of their money, the more appealing the idea became. Fortified with Bacchus, I jumped into the famvan and tore off.

I made the drive to the Hilton Lucky Seven in record time. 60 manners in hand, decked up in nice threads, I sauntered in and sat myself at a blackjack table.

I like to start with some blackjack, then take the stack over to a three card poker table. Three card's been good to me over the years, it being the game I've had some of my best wins in Korean casinos, the last being about 9 grand a year and a half ago. The trouble I have has always been with the damn roulette table, that bastard of a tease. My biggest win came on a roulette table, when a perfect storm of the right numbers hit netting me nearly twenty grand. I've chased after that moment far too many times over the years, and yesterday was just another example.

I was up about 200 manners at the blackjack, then took nearly another 300 manners more at the three card poker. Things were looking pretty rosy for this waeg. I started losing a few hands and decided to take a break, grab a bite to eat. After eating, instead of being smart and leaving or sitting back down at the three card poker, I approached the roulette thinking now it was time to bend that bastard right over.

Usually I'm fairly good at knowing when to run, when to know the mood has changed, the planets are no longer aligned, it's time to get the hell out of dodge. My problem is despite knowing this, I often will just say fuck it and keep going anyway. My idiocy this time around saw me lose 4 million in about twenty minutes. Fuck you the roulette table was saying, no one makes me their bitch.

Cue ahead another five hours. I try to recoup by hitting the blackjack table again, but now all the tables are against me. I hold my own for some time, but in the end I leave with 2 chonners in my pocket. Thanks for the laughs waeg, come again any time.

I usually hit the casino once or twice a year at best, there being enough of an interval in between for me to forget what a cocktease the damn place is, and the reaming I may have had. I just think about those nice hits, the times I had enough sense to walk out with a fairly nice wad in my pocket. Hopefully next time I won't be too full of excitement to remember this and walk away when I'm 500 manners ahead, instead of thinking about winning enough to buy a new famvan. Consoling yourself that you got 12 hours of entertainment, a ton of liquor, a meal, and lots of eye candy isn't nearly as nice as having an extra 500 manners sitting in your personal bank account for superfluous expenditures.

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