How I Learned to Play the Game of Craps in Fabulous Las Vegas!

It had been a couple of years since my Grandfather had passed away. My Grandmother was still living in Las Vegas in the expansive three bedroom apartment she and my grandfather had leased after they retired from the "schlock" business. Schlock is Yiddish for junk. In actuality, My Papa had built a respectable twenty million dollar wholesale empire starting from a single box of rainbow colored soap, but that is another story.

I went to Las Vegas to see Nana and make sure that she was getting along OK. It always seemed to me that she was the most frail, and the most unprepared of all of my grandparents, although she turned out to be the one who outlived the others. She lived to be 105. That, again, is another story.

So, I arrived at my Nana's apartment at around 6:30pm on a Friday night. I walked in expecting to find her dressed in a babushka stirring a pot of borsch. I don't know why. There she was, exactly as I should have expected - all five feet, and two inches (she was really 4'10", and only 5'2" with her hair done) of her petite little frame was festooned in dripping diamonds and she was wrapped in at least two or three layers of the finest furs money could buy.

She stood with her arms open and beckoned to me, "Hello Darling! Come and give your Nana a kiss. Tell me, are you a millionaire yet? If not, tell me why!"

I put my arms around her and sank into the ultra soft mink, fox, ermine menagerie until I felt her hugging back. It was always amazing how muck strength there was in her mighty hugs given her size. I started to speak, but she didn't even let me get a word out before she proclaimed that we were leaving.

"Thank goodness I made late reservations, Darling," she said as she slipped around me headed toward the front door.

"But Nana! I just arrived! Aren't you tired?" I quipped.

"I'm tired of waiting all day for my grandson to escort me on a wonderful night out in fabulous Las Vegas! Now leave your bags where they are and stop being a "nebbish" (Yiddish for 'nerd'). I'm driving!"

I did as I was told and followed her to the yellow Cadillac that always looked twelve times bigger than other Cadillacs when she was behind the wheel. She pretended that she could actually see where she was going as we careened out of the parking lot.

A few hair raising moments later we pulled into the front driveway of Bally's Hotel where we were promptly greeted by the valet parking crew. They greeted my Nana saying, "Good evening your Majesty," or "Welcome your Highness," as was the custom for as long as I can remember. Nana was always known as "Ethel, the Queen of Las Vegas".

Nana greeted her subjects with great aplomb and a sweep of her tiny, fur covered, diamond dripping little hand. The crowd parted and we proceeded to enter the doors headed for the casino where Nana, as the queen, would hold court. Everyone greeted us on our way with a kind word, or a slight bow, and always a smile. When we arrived at the dollar slots, Nana was met by a couple of the pit bosses whom positioned themselves on either side of her and lead her to the thrown. The thrown was an unusually well padded, and comfortable looking stool, different from the other stools in the casino, that had been placed in front of a dollar slot machine that was covered with flaming "7"s.

"Here you are, Sweetheart. You have about 45 minutes before the show begins," said one of the big guys who had been on her left arm.

"Is it warm, Vinnie?" Nana asked in a coy way that was noticeably a put on.

"Now you know that there is no way of predicting when a slot machine is going to hit, Queen Ethel. But if I were a betting man, and you know that I am, I would put my very own momma right where you are sitting now."

My Nana turned to me with a wink and said, "Well, if Vinnie would put his very own mother here, who am I to argue?"

The two pit bosses who had been on either side of my Nana turned with a start to see who she was talking to.

"Oh! Vinnie, Bruno, this is my dear grandson who is almost a millionaire," she introduced me.

"It is our extreme pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir. Please remember, if there is absolutely anything in the entire world that would make your stay here in the city of Las Vegas more enjoyable in even the slightest way, you should only ask one of us to have that desire fulfilled immediately."

I had the feeling that I could have asked for anything from strawberry shortcake, to having some "mooley" dropped in a hole somewhere far out in the middle of the desert for not bowing as he passed my Nana, and it would have been done. I later found out that I may have been very right, but, again, that is another story.

"I think that I am going to go try to play some craps for a while, Nana, if that is alright," I responded.

"Yes! Go Darling! I don't want you to interfere with my luck," she laughed.

"Nothing interferes with your luck while you are here with us, your Highness," Vinnie said in an all too serious manner. Then he turned to me.

"You like the bones like your Papa, eh?" He said.

"I don't really know," I responded. "I've never really played before."

"Whatya mean, never played before?" Vinnie asked. He pulled me aside out of Nana's earshot and whispered in my ear, "Hey kid, you mean you ain't never thrown bones before?" He asked like he was asking if I was still a virgin.

I shook my head to indicate that I had not. He shot a look at Bruno, the other ambassador of gaming. They both told my grandmother to enjoy herself and not to worry. They said that they would take good care of me and bring me back before show time. Then, Vinnie and Bruno hustled me away with the greatest dispatch as though it was a matter of life and death. I seriously hoped that it was not either of those things. As we hurried through the casino, Vinnie reminisced, "Your Papa was a great man, kid. You know, a real mensch. He could stand at a table for 10 hours straight tossing dice, and tell you the odds on every throw. More than that, kid, your Papa was a winner. Wherever he went. Whatever he did. He was a man to be respected. He was a man's man. You know they used to call him the Professor, on-a-count-a the fact that he was smart, like a, well, like a professor."

You can't imagine how relieved I was to hear the very nice things these big guys were saying about my Papa as they lead me by the arm to what turned out to be a craps table. When we arrived, they shuttled me right up and into a spot on the side of the table. They both stayed right beside me and I didn't know whether to try to tip them or say thanks or what to do, frankly. I am so glad I didn't try to tip them.

Vinnie finally asked me if I was going to take my turn as the shooter. I said I didn't think that I would until I really understood the game a little better.

Vinnie said, "Listen, it would be a personal honor if you would allow me to introduce you to the science of the game that great man, your grandfather, knew and loved, for so many years. I would consider it to be the fulfillment of an obligation to him of the highest order."

Vinnie was making me an offer I wouldn't dare refuse.

"Sure," I agreed.

"Great! How much money you got?" He asked next.

"I don't know, twenty bucks?"

"Twenty bucks? I asked you how much money you had not how much you managed to shake out of your little sister's piggy bank," he laughed. Bruno laughed with him. I think that was Bruno's job. I didn't laugh until he stopped laughing, then I pulled a twenty out of my front pocket and snapped it like I meant business. Vinnie told me to put my money on the table. I went to lay it down and he stopped me.

"Don't you never touch that table with your money in your hand. You throw that money out there like it's a spent tissue and say 'Change'," he said.

I did as I had been instructed. The Croupier, or the man with the stick standing to one side of the table boss who was seated in the center, placed four five dollar chips in front of me.

"Pick up your money, kid," Vinnie barked softly.

"Now tell me, what's your favorite number, kid," he continued.

"Uh, um. Errr... my favorite number... well, uhhh,"

Vinnie smiled uncomfortably at the guys working the table and through his teeth he whispered and hissed at the same time, "Your favorite number is eight, kid. Throw out five and tell them to put you on the eight."

I did as instructed again. The shooter threw a five, then a six, then an eight, and the stick man placed winnings in front of my bet.

"What's your next favorite number, kid?" Vinnie asked.

"Ummm, uh," I stammered.

"Kid! Come on. Your next favorite number is six, kid. Six. Tell 'em to put you on the six." Vinnie insisted.

I did as I was told again, and the guy with the stick did as I asked while giving Vinnie a quizzical look.

"You sure you got him on the six there, Eddy?" Vinnie asked the stick man.

"Yeah, sure Vinnie. He's on the six." The stick man said.

"Good! 'Cause I'd hate for him to miss a bet on-a-count-a you not paying close attentions," Vinnie shot back.

"I'm payin' attention, Vinnie," Eddy said.

"Close attentions," added Bruno in a most solemn tone.

"I'm payin' close attention," Eddy said nervously.

Well, the game continued. I continued to win, and Vinnie continued to educate me as to what my favorite numbers were in descending order from eight, to six, to nine, to five, to four, to ten. I kept putting the winnings up on the numbers until they were all covered. Then the money really started coming in. It was amazing.

Finally, it had been about forty minutes since we had left Nana back at the machine with the flaming sevens all over it. I had built my initial twenty dollar stake up to about three hundred and twenty dollars, thanks to the loving tutelage of Vinnie and Bruno. I looked at my watch and gave a little whistle. Everything at the table stopped, and all heads turned toward me with looks of anger and disbelief.

"Did you just whistle?" Vinnie asked incredulously.

"Yeah, I guess so," I said.

"Hey guys, the kid is just learning. He doesn't know from nothing, right?" Vinnie told the people at the table.

"Don't you never, ever whistle at a table. Ever. You got me, kid?" Vinnie said.

"Yeah, sure. I'm sorry. I didn't know," I said.

"Of course you didn't know, kid. That's why your still standing here enjoying your youth." Fo-getta-bout-it!

"Hey, it's been about forty minutes. I should be getting back to Nana, shouldn't I?"

""Wait a minute, kid. I thought you wanted to learn the game. We got plenty of time. They ain't gonna start the show without the Queen of Las Vegas anyway," Vinnie said.

"OK. If your sure," I said.

"You can bet your life on it. You got time enough for another roll. Trust me." Vinnie assured me.

And with that the guy who was shooting tossed the dice.

"Seven out!" Eddy said loudly. At that moment he swiftly collected all of the bets that were on the table, including the three hundred plus dollars that I had managed to amass.

"Seven out? What does that mean?" I looked to Vinnie for the meaning of this outrage.

Vinnie put his arm around me and started to lead me away from the table. He gripped my shoulder tightly and turned me toward him. I was face to face with him trying to look past the reflection of his gold rimmed, ever so large, pink toned sunglasses. He cupped his perfectly manicured, to tan for Manhattan, right hand - the one with only four huge gold and diamond rings on it, and gently slapped my cheek.

"Look at that face, Bruno. Such a face."

"What does seven out mean?" I demanded.

"Well, in a nutshell, now you know how to play the game, kid!"

He and Bruno broke into riotous laughter.

"Now you know how to play the game," he repeated.

They laughed and laughed.

After the show (Tom Jones, with front row comps), careening home with Nana in the Caddy of doom, she looked over at me and said, "So, darling. I understand you learned how to play craps tonight." She was holding back her own laughter.

"Very funny, Nana. Very funny."