Postscript: Is the game completely honest? I can only answer that in regard to an episode during my Marathon Monday sixteen-hour session at the Sahara. Counting the spots on one of my tickets, I found I had a 6-out-of-8, an $1,100 winner. When I handed in my ticket, the manager of the Keno table came over to me and informed me that my ticket was mismarked and incorrect, and that they only pay on the original ticket, which was locked away during the game. Of course I was ready for a fight, but before I could say anything he pointed to my original ticket, which had 7-out-of-8, a $2,200 winner.
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How could I have been so blind as to ignore Keno all these years? A Keno regular tipped me off that the 8-spot was the best bet for the money. So I went over to the Keno counter, where games go on every fifteen minutes or so, and bet twenty-five 8-spot games at a buck each. When the game was over, to my delight 1 found that I had won $260 on my investment of twenty-five bucks.
I pocketed the windfall and decided then and there that on my next Vegas visit I would play Keno exclusively.
Ten days later I returned to Las Vegas, and the Sahara.
Once in my room, I unpacked my working tools: an accountant's yellow pad, a ruler, and a fine-line accountant's pen that I had purchased especially for the trip. Off to the Keno Lounge, where I zeroed in on the trash cans toward the back, and fished out all the discarded cover sheets from the previously played games. I sorted them out, amassing a complete set of the past 26 games.
Now 1 was ready.
I set to work on the tedious job of tracking the winning numbers of all 26 games on my yellow-lined accountant's pad. Thirty minutes later I had it all down. I went back to the trash can to retrieve and tally the games played since.
Now I had all the information I needed. It was time to play Keno for keeps. If I was serious in my endeavor, it meant that I should play Keno on steady a basis. I couldn't just play a couple cards at a time.
I played one hundred 8-spot games at a buck a game, every game. I played and I tallied. And I played and I tallied. And I played and I tallied. For sixteen straight hours, nonstop, I played the game and then tallied it onto my sheet. To keep my wits about me, I eschewed alcohol and lived solely on coffee frosteds and tomato juice, which, from time-to-time necessitated rapid, punctuated trips to the nearest men's room to run some water through my lingam.
When the smoke cleared sixteen hours and thousands of games later, did I ever get an eight-out-of-eight and make that $25,000 windfall?
The answer is no.
Did I win or did I lose during my Keno marathon? Again, the answer is no to both questions. Okay, let me explain.
Keno is like a greased pig—you almost have it, but, dammit, the oily porker always slips out of your clutches. There were times during the sixteen-hour marathon when I was two or three thousand ahead, only to hit a dry spell where everything evened out, and even dipped into the minus column. During my 16-hour marathon I had a 7-out-of-8 in the first ten numbers picked, only to be zeroed out in the next ten numbers. All I needed was one number out of the second ten, just one more goddam number, but it never did show up.
The Keno writers worked on six-hour shifts, six hours on and twelve off. As I was on a sixteen-hour marathon, just before I was ready to call it a day, the first shift returned. "Oh, I see you're back," commented a Keno writer as he marked up my tickets.
"I never left," I told him.
He peered at me intently for a moment, then muttered, "Buddy, you're bulletproof."
When, bowing to sheer exhaustion, I packed it in at the end of the sixteen-hour marathon session, I was about $600 ahead—a $600 profit for playing almost 15,000 games! Without a doubt, it was the hardest $600 I ever made, gambling or otherwise. I blindly stumbled out of the Keno Lounge down the hall to my hotel room. Once in my room, I was afraid to take a bath in my zombie-like condition,- I feared I'd drown in the tub! Instead I staggered into the shower. Once under the soothing warm water I closed my eyes—just for a second—and fell asleep standing up! I only know this because as I slumped against the shower wall I was jarred awake by my own snoring! Needless to add, I was forever cured from playing Keno.
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