The never ending adventures on the Lake Michigan boats. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Longshot calls at 3 p.m. and says he is five minutes away and do I want to go to the Boat. I said, “Are you crazy, five minutes away? Of course I will be ready.
We landed on the shores of Lake Michigan around 3:45 p.m. and still marveled at the big building with attached garage that they call a boat. It wasn’t crowded at all. Longshot jump right in his position at SL-1. I went to the powder room to wash my hands so as not to dirty the dice. When I came back there was a towel on my position at SR-2.
I just got settled in when Longshot decided to go table hopping. He had the misfortune of throwing one too many sevens at the wrong time. He went to a table that was just opening. I stayed where I was with the dice only two players away. I had a respectable twenty minute run including three points and a bunch of six and eights
I looked over where Longshot was and he was waiving for me to come over there where I found another one of those white towels in my spot. LS had just finished a good run and asked the pit critter to save my spot. This has become a good ploy of ours especially when they are about to open a new table. With the suits so friendly we might as well push the envelope as far as we can.
The table was filling up fast along with some familiar faces that seem to follow us from table to table. At my end of the table they were coming and going and some were playing with short stacks and passing the dice.
At the other end of the table a couple moved in with a short stack of red ships. The female, wife, girlfriend or whatever got the dice and proceeded to throw some numbers. After her seven-out the guy took some chips out of her rack for the pass line. The stick moved the dice to him and I asked if it was fair for the two of them to play out of the same rack with everybody waiting to shoot the dice. He said it wasn’t his call. I dropped the subject not wanting to draw attention to myself.
When in Vegas I would some times ask my wife if she would like to play. I would ask her only if the table was not crowded. Once she agreed and I supplied her with $100 in red chips. I told her to just play the six and eight until the dice came around. She got $50 ahead and said she was going to go play blackjack. She walked away with $150 and I was out the hundred.
Back to the U-Boat! A lady at my end of the table shooting from the dealers hook was spraying the dice all over, mostly off the table. Once she threw the cubes high and wide and one bounced off the rail in front of the guy at SL-3. He took a swing at the die and missed by at least six inches. The die landed back on the table and the box guy called, “Good roll, seven-out. “ The guy that swung at it went ballistic. H insisted that the die hit his hand. The shooter kept yelling no roll. Somebody else yelled keep your dam hands to yourself. While the box was arguing with the jerk, the stick and I agreed he missed the die by at least six inches and what difference does it make anyhow? The cube landed on the table and was in play.
You know who won that argument! When the jerk got the dice the box was all over him to hit the back wall and keep the dice on the table. It takes a lot to get these box people mad, but when they do, look out.
Things settled down and we got back to some serious up and down craps. We were approaching the three hour mark and getting tired and hungry when the female suit came around the table and tapped me on the shoulder. She said, “Charlie, surveillance just called down and said you look hungry and to give you a dinner comp. It could only happen at the U-Boat. Now that I think of it, was it a ploy to smooth things over at the table? It got everybody laughing.
When we left the table and were exchanging farewells, I gave the thumbs up salute to the ceiling cameras. Another laugh and we were gone.
Charlie009
