Gambles with Hmong

We don't have any normal family holiday traditions. You know what I mean. Things like the annual family snow golf game, a group reading of the Night Before Christmas, or cramming stockings with gag gifts. Heck, we don't even hang stockings. Nope. None of that happens in my family. It's hard enough to get my husband or son to help put up a tree. They couldn't be less interested.

The closest thing we have to an annual holiday tradition is spending Christmas morning at the local casino. While others are in church celebrating, my husband and I gather our gambling money (set aside for just such occasions) and drive downtown to make our monthly donation to the local Native American tribe.

If you've never gambled on Christmas Day let me describe the experience. The usual suspects are not there. No WASPS, no Baptists (do Baptists gamble?), no Episcopals either. There may be a Presbyterian or two, but they are hard to find. I'm sure the Unitarians are represented, but they must be hanging out in the buffet. Also missing are the ragtag riffraff that usually hog the 1 cent video poker games. The well-heeled who languish in the high stakes poker room and the $5 slots aren't there either. No sir. It's just us, a few Chinese (the lady who owns our local Chinese restaurant can always be found at the blackjack table) and almost every Hmong person who lives within shouting distance of our fair city. How do I know they are Hmong? I can't explain it but just like some people have "gaydar" I have "Hmongdar". I can (for reasons unclear to me) distinguish Hmong from Korean, from Chinese and Japanese. A gift I guess.

Hmong are skilled, fierce gamblers. They are in it to win. On days other than Christmas, my husband avoids tables with Hmong. It's not about prejudice, it's about giving yourself a fighting chance. It's also about being able to keep up with the Trangs. Their money flows (ours trickles). Serious, focused gamblers take no prisoners. They bet big. If you can't afford to lose you shouldn't go on Christmas. (Maybe you shouldn't ever go...)But on Christmas the rules change. He has to gamble at tables with the Hmong. Afterwards he grumbles.

I don't gamble at tables anymore. I won't play blackjack because I'm sure I will embarass myself. I don't add quickly. I can't figure out the cards fast enough to make good decisions.I can't count on always remembering that that damned Ace has two possible values. If you can't add and think (all while chewing gum), don't play Blackjack. This has now become part of my life philosophy.

I used to like Let It Ride but you can't put your elbows on the table and rest your head in your hands when you play this. Since I do not understand what resting my head in my hands has to do with screwing up the game, I no longer participate. My head is heavy because there is so much crap in it and my neck is weak...I need to rest my heavy head from time to time. Don't we all?

There was a time when I was SURE that Roulette was my game. Now, if you know anything about casino games, the odds for Roulette are TOTALLY with the house. You don't stand a flying freak of a chance to really win. It's a sucker's game. I loved it. (Big sucking sounds) I, like so many others, had a "system" that usually worked for me. No - it didn't involve statistically analyzing the frequency of the winning numbers. That would take math (see above paragraph). I bet small, spread out my minimum bets over a series of personally meaningful numbers and NEVER bet on a single number, always a combination. Slowly, over a period of time, I would accrue (big math word, "accrue")small winnings , which I would set aside. I only allowed myself to play with the money I brought. Eventually my money would double. I would quit and leave the table feeling smug.

If you play Roulette on Christmas, things change. Hmong bet BIG and they do it on single numbers. And damn it, they win. Big. Their enthusiasm and skill at this game would eventually convince me that I too should be betting single numbers. So I did. They won. I didn't. Merry Christmas.

When I was younger I didn't gamble. I had few discretionary funds. I did't like losing. And I'd have preferred a mink on my back than a monkey on my shoulder. (Who knew that one day it would be "ok" to have the monkey but to wear the mink would be unconscionable?) Gambling was a midlife acquired "hobby". I do it sparingly because I no longer win. In fact, I am not allowed to come near my husband or any of our friends when they are actively gambling. I am known, in my small circle of friends, as "The Cooler". My mere presence disrupts the positive energy that people are experiencing when on a hot winning streak. My energy trumps theirs. I am a pariah. While this is not something I am proud of, I will tell you that I have used it to my financial advantage. I make them give me money to stay away from them. I can now leave the Casino with a pocketful of cash without once touching a machine. I am golden this way. I am always a winner.