Skip to main content

The Mechanic by Mark Anthony Given


I spent ninety percent of my money on women and drink;  the rest I wasted. -George Best

EVERY PRO BLACKJACK PLAYER plays at least two hands at once, it just doubles everything and it isn’t any harder.   Ideally, I want to be at the $25 blackjack table for twenty minutes at four o’clock in the morning, and be in and out with a grand or so in less time than that.   I’ll never forget the look on the faces of several Pit Bosses huddled together covering their mouths so I couldn’t read their lips.  When this thing is working on all fours cylinders, it should win one, lose one, win one, lose one, 25$ bet lost,  bet $50 win.   I got my $25 back and made $25.  After less than ten minutes I’m up seven hundred dollars and still making the same bet!  They're scratching their ass and are pulling their hair out because they never have seen this before.  Every five minutes I get interrupted to be offered a “Players Card” or “Dinner for you and a guest”, on and on;  they want me in their system to monitor what the hell I’m doing.  I got the same story for them every time:  "I’m on my way to the airport, I’ll see you next time….”
THEY NEVER SEEN a grown man in a thousand dollar dress suit mix all his different colored casino chips together in a pile, and keep playing with them like a kindergarten child.   I do that so they can’t keep a running count of how bad I’m spanking their ass seemingly at will.   If I am the only one at the table they can look at the dealer’s bank and get an exact count.  Every few minutes they will see me pocket another few big denomination chips.  Drinking bottled water or hot chocolate and no smoking,  I could blend into woodwork if I wasn’t walking out of there with their money.  Nine hands and right at the eight-minute mark the dealer gets a tap on the shoulder and they switch dealers to right the rhythm in the casino's favor.  It doesn’t work against guys like me.  Hand 17 they switch the dealer again and it’s some old hippy hangover from the seventies with hippy beads and tie dye shit.  Every time she scoops up the cards for no apparent reason she will reach over and tap the table to signal a new hand.  Her mojo doesn't work either,  even after 6 straight loses I bet 7, 8, 7 and recouped every dime not counting the double down on the second 7 bet. 
           THAT’S WHEN THEY bring out the Mechanic, usually a real lucky Irishman like myself, but you can usually tell the Mechanic because he has thirty or forty grand of jewels trying to blind me with his bling.  I can beat him but twenty-five hands are my limit because my concentration starts to fail,  I’m up almost a grand.  “Color me up.”  That’s my mantra… The dealer takes his time because the last thing they want is for me to leave but I know, you haven’t 'won a dime until you make it to the parking lot.  I never even stop at the Tellers cage to cash in the chips, there’s no hurry there always open, I mosey out of there just in time to see a supervisor step off the elevator fifty feet away with a concerned look on his face and a couple of minions with him, heading straight at me.  They look at me like a lab specimen as I walk by and act like I never even notice them.  Straight thru the front door past valet parking and head straight out into the fresh air with a slight smile on my face as I walk like I know where I am going, but I’m just trying to shake the adrenaline rush off like a small line of coke without the jitters…

Copyright 2016 by Mark Anthony Given 
All Rights Reserved

                           #THEDOPEFEINDSHUFFLE #TRUECRIME
#anotherhotgrand #thedopefeignshuffle #onlyinneworleans #dopesickangel #ascreechandabang #paradisemontana

Popular posts from this blog

My Appointment With the Devil by Mark Anthony Given


We may not pay Satan reverence, for that would be indiscreet,  but we can at least respect his talents. -Mark Twain
  MID-THIRTIES I found myself alone at a lonely interstate rest area in Florida in the middle of the night, having driven from  New Orleans for the last several days, I went from rest area to rest area withdrawing from Methadone, starving but couldn't eat.  Dying of thirst, but couldn't drink.  Throwing up, diarrhea, high temperature and worst of all, I couldn't sleep.  Beg for sleep for three or four hours and sleep for ten minutes and start all over again.  I was at probably the lowest point of my life.  And I still had an appointment with the devil.    And he's going to be here in a minute.....          THE DEVIL IS REAL.  I met him.  Twice.  I know you're not going to believe this but I don't care.  I ain't got a reason to lie to y…

Circle Jerk City by Mark Anthony Given

This very first ever eBook created on Facebook, Twitter and Blogspot simultaneously!, “Real Men, Real Case's, Real Life Heist’s The Dope Feign Shuffle,” the entirely true story Cover to cover, Beginning to end, Word for word, Page to page, Edit to edit, right down to the very last One Wrong Word: Began April 27, 2013 to Present By Mark Anthony Given. 4/27/2013 7:26:07 AM Copyright 2013 All Rights Reserved
 My father carries around the picture of the kid who came with his wallet.
-Rodney Dangerfield

I BUSTED OUT OF every juvenile home they placed me in when I was a kid. Industry, The New York State School for Boys, fifteen miles south of Rochester, New York where my parents were, was the largest juvenile reformatory in the Empire State. I thought of this escape hundreds of times throughout the years as the seminal moment I became bad. Not real bad mind you, but bad none the less. Still thinking I was Matt Helm or James Bond, I plo…

The One Man Crime Wave by Mark Anthony Given


TO HAVE ONCE been a criminal is no disgrace.
To remain a criminal is the disgrace. ―Malcolm X #malcomx ______________________________________________________
I JUST ROBBED the Hancock Bank & Trust in downtown Gulfport, Mississippi with my trusty twenty-cent Bic and blank checks I found on doorsteps out of Another Hot Grand (link below) and was driving down beautiful Highway 90 in West Biloxi Beach with patches of condos and now casinos and plenty of places to pull over and enjoy the sea breeze and smell of seafood.  They had almost completed the I-110 interchange linking Interstate 10 with the Gulf of Mexico.  Right where the cars are discharged onto Highway 90, is the original/first high rise ten or twelve stories upscale apartment building.  The owner lived on the top and I was told he won the building in a poker game.  It was said to have been built to withstand any hurricane and you can see it still standing after Katrina. …