Virtual Casino Tales of WoeInside MagicMagic News Updated Daily for the Professional Magician

There are certain maxims we live by. Some are considered and coherent. Others are just an ephemeral notion with enough substance to offer guidance.

We ignore these rules at our peril.

Friends, we offer you the following in the hope you will listen to your inner-voice, avoid that which you know to be wrong, follow the path that leads you from our ruin to the relative safety a well-lit intersection or a Denny’s.

We were watching Poker World International Champions of Champions ("PWICC") on the satellite. We don’t have a satellite dish but our neighbor does. He may have the dish, but we have ready access to coaxial cable and a ladder, so it is like we have satellite too.

There was an advertisement for one of those virtual casinos. We were all hyped-up on old but new-found Halloween candy and our own designer drug combining Diet Coke and Excedrin Maximum Strength – we call it a Caffeine Pi?ata. It’s like a whack to the brain to help spill the ideas and thoughts for our grabbing pleasure.

We logged on to the virtual casino, conveniently named, The Virtual Casino. Because we are always cautious when surfing the web, we checked out its business records before we went too far. Fortunately, we found it was licensed by a private act of the Bimini Government in Exile now based in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida and Bimini City. That’s about as legit as it gets in the virtual world.

Under the terms of the sign-on agreement, most of which we glossed over, we were required to enter a credit card number – "only to verify our age."

Significantly, this did not say we were to enter our credit card number, just "a credit card number." One of the benefits of having such trusting neighbors is their willingness to share – perhaps unknowingly – but share nonetheless. Unfortunately, our neighbor did not believe in personal responsibility or honor.

She had not paid her card on time and so the number we entered did not satisfy the faceless credit card checker in Ft. Lauderdale or Bimini. It is a sign of our society’s decline that people will spend their money on satellite dishes but fail to pay their bills on time. We made a note to remind her of her obligations the next time we hacked into her home network.

Fortunately, we were offered a credit alternative. Through the magic of modern telecommunications, we could give our telephone number and the verification process could continue by billing us as if we had called a 900 number.

It does not get easier than this, we thought as we punched in the full number to our local YMCA.

Within seconds, we were whisked from the entry page into the virtual spaciousness that was The Virtual Casino. What a beautiful environment! It reminded us of Las Vegas – if that desert mecca was two-dimensional and surrounded by pop-up ads for "Dating Services" and "Natural Remedies" presumably for those big dates – or by the looks of some of the models, for after the romantic evening.

We assume there must be an all-natural alternative to penicillin.

We wanted to head to the poker…

There are certain maxims we live by. Some are considered and coherent. Others are just an ephemeral notion with enough substance to offer guidance.

We ignore these rules at our peril.

Under the terms of the sign-on agreement, most of which we glossed over, we were required to enter a credit card number – "only to verify our age."

It does not get easier than this, we thought as we punched in the full number to our local YMCA.

We assume there must be an all-natural alternative to penicillin.

We wanted to head to the poker tables but decided to take a quick tour of the site first. That tour lasted about a minute, maybe two. Our money was burning a virtual hole in our pocket – even though we were playing in our underwear.

We found our way to the poker tables and selected one in the smoking section in case we decided to light-up in celebration of a big win.

We said hello to the dealer, a virtual but crusty middle-aged woman with an enormous gap in her smile. It may have been the lack of pixels on our gas-powered laptop but it looked like all of the dealers had a similar blemished smile.

Our seat was in "three position," meaning we were three away from the dealer’s right or left. Next to us sat the vivacious Coquette from "Your Town, USA" and on the other side was the dark and mysterious Wierdo from "Anywhere I Please."

The dealer shuffled and true to her title, "Dealer," dealt the cards for us. I yelled out in excitement (but I had to type it) "BLACKJACK!" I turned over my cards to show the Ace of Clubs and the Ten of Clubs and immediately recalled we were not playing blackjack.

I folded my hand and retired to watch this round. Coquette folded as well, Wierdo upped the betting by twenty-five virtual dollars.

Soon it was just Wierdo and a nervy beginner called, NrvBeg. It could be that she was a "nervous beginner" or "never begged."

Regardless, she was willing to keep pace with Wierdo and soon there was more money on the table than we’d seen in a month of hard work. Wierdo called NrvBeg and she turned her virtual cards. She had a small straight.

It was really small – only four cards.

Wierdo showed his cards and had a pair of twos and a high card that looked familiar – the Ace of Clubs.

Somehow Wierdo found one of the two cards we had during our embarrassing introduction to the game. We wondered how that was possible and typed in our wonder statement.

"How can he have an Ace of Clubs?" we asked. "We had the Ace of Clubs when we folded."

Wierdo sent a nasty emoticon our way. The dealer told us his two of a kind beat NrvBeg’s incohate straight so it didn’t matter. We were amazed; not so much at the variation from normal poker rules but at Wierdo’s ability to design an emoticon that accurately but immaturely described our relationship with our mother.

Clearly we were playing against a true genius in the virtual world.

We were more successful in the coming hands. While we only raked in one jackpot, we played the way we had been taught by the great poker mentor Armadillo Slum.

Slum was the crack-head brother of Amarillo Slim and taught poker in exchange for stereo equipment or their cash-equivalent. We wondered how Slummy would fair against Wierdo and NrvBeg.

Like Luke Skywalker channeling the Force from that frog-looking guy in the movies, we too listened to the inner, rambling voice of our mentor, Slummy. "Bet the Farm, Timmy!" "Pop Him, Timmy!" "Give NrvBeg a reason to beg, Timmy!"

We went on a tremendous run. Within minutes we were virtually coming back to getting even.

We were within $500.00 of getting back to $0.00 if you considered the associated costs like entry fee, the currency-exchange charge to go from U.S. Dollars to Bimini Virtual Dollars (BVDs), the virtual parking, two virtual drinks, a virtual tip to the restroom attendant, and some virtual cigarettes from the scantily clad and oh-so-alluring avatar of a cigarette-girl.

It did not take brains to get into the final duel with Wierdo.

I was working off of what Slummy likes to call "The Shakin Bacon." He describes it as that feeling inside of you that says "go on" while another part of you tells you to "go away" and still another part of you tells you "I need to go real bad." It is a visceral moment of confluence and incontinence.

The two of us were locked into a horrendous struggle. Soon the pot was over $21,200.00 BVDs (or about $21,200 USDs) and I was holding four aces – each a different suit. I felt confident; the force was with me.

Wierdo’s avatar faced mine with the blank stare he has made so famous. My avatar did not show much emotion although it did flicker once or twice to indicate I needed to use the restroom soon.

Wierdo went "all in" and we revealed our cards.

In life, there are no winners or losers. There are only survivors and rugs. You are either able to walk on the pelt that once was your adversary or you are walked upon.

We do not wish to encourage others to engage in gambling, to visit the real or virtual world in which we must now labor to pay my debts to a virtual master. We do not want to glorify our current position of dealing virtual blackjack to virtual Japanese tourists while chatting them up about the virtual blond avatars sitting at neighboring tables. We can only hope ours may be considered a cautionary tale.

There is a saying at the race track, "bet with your head, not over it." This admonition is true in racing and in the virtual world of casinos. There are no sure bets. There is no easy money. There is no free lunch. But there sure enough are easy money bets that will eat your lunch.

Questions for Study

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