What I learned from gambling in Monte Carlo

It has always been my dream (please, no dream-mocking) to gamble in the private room at the famous casino in Monte Carlo.  James Bond… Dodi Al-Fayed… Bruce Willis (according to my dealer) all sat at the very blackjack table at which I planted my increasingly expanding tush.

Background: There are two main gambling “rooms” in the Monte Carlo Casino.  There is the free one with low limits and lots of slot machines, also known as the “American” room (with the obvious negative connotation). And there is the  “private” room for the high rollers.  Supposedly there would be higher limits, no slots, and only the finest of Monacan liquers and clientele.  Of course, I’m only in Monaco once… and I had 10 euros for the entry fee (plus another 10 for Marcy to watch me live my dream)… so why not indulge.  Plus, given the strict dress code of the private room which I had read about for years, I had already splurged on a sportcoat in Paris just for this occasion (remember the whole dream thing?)  I know, it’s sick.

So what did I learn from my 90 minute experience?

1) The dress code rule has been “relaxed”.

Not only were there no James Bond like dudes in tuxedos, I was one of only two other chumps there wearing a jacket (and we never made eye contact).  I saw a guy in sweats.  Merde! I asked the old timer behind the bar about it and he said, “Times… they have changed”.  Then he charged me 35 euros (about $45 US) for a double vodka and red bull.

2)  Super rich people do not like for you to watch them gamble when they are losing.

While drinking my $45 drink, I walked over to a table and watched an old man bet 25,000 euros a hand in blackjack.  Two things I’ll never forget:  a) the bored look on his 21 year old “girlfriend”‘s face while watching him gamble  b) the venomous glare he gave me after he lost his fourth hand in a row (a streak which started precisely when I showed up to watch).  As I slunk back to the bar, I never felt so guilty in my entire life.

3) Losing in the private room in Monaco is more fun than losing in Vegas or Atlantic City.

My goal was to make it through one complete shoe before losing my limit (how much was my limit? enough to hurt, but not enough to end the ATW trip early). I did it!!! I made it through a shoe and a half!!!  But I had a blast pretending to be a slightly lighter skinned nephew of a Saudi sheik (at least in my own mind), and even got a slap on the back from a Russian ship builder for taking a bust card for the team.  At least I think he said he was a ship builder.  My Russian is rusty.