gambling is when you slide 2 stacks of 10 orange chips each @ $25k per chip onto the player box at mbs paiza room VIP baccarat table. cos the table limit on your lucky table that night was merely $500k. ah well. just a start.
the croupier opens hers to reveal a pair of 4 of hearts while yours is a king of hearts atop a covered card.
yeah. like she want you to doubly make you to "4". her 杀气 damn strong. she's one of those killer croupiers casinos bring in as substitutes when clients are winning big.
big deal. you brushed off that inauspicious notion as quickly as it surfaced.
the many special blessings you received and the blessed holy amulets in you and on you are more than a match for ANY dark forces who dare goes up against them.
nevertheless, beads of sweat involuntarily forms on your forehead even as you try unsuccessfully to slow down your racing heart cos the adrenaline just kicked in, yo!
and that's not just because the sexy redhead is purposefully bending lower to allow you a good eyeful at her lucious half-ball double D-cup melon goodness after she spotted the PP 5711R sparking under the halogen room lights on your wrist as her heady perfume wafts through your refined nose.
it's the same feeling in your day job.
cos you live for adrenaline.
it comes as no surprise that your favourite sports are sky-diving (you picked that up when you were an NS commando officer. even extended your service to qualify for HALO and HAHO with the SOF. you begged & you sweet-talked your way into the training program with COL Chiang Hock Woon when he was your CCO that time. he made an exception cos you're the best NSF officer he's had in all his career up till that point. he's BG now. you chaps still keep in touch), scuba-diving (you hold multiple PADI rescue diver, wreck diver, saturation diver ratings), polo (you even played with prince harry once when you were stationed in the uk), yacht-racing, open-wheel racing and fencing.
you take a deep, DEEP breath or two.
you bend your card & peek under the long edge of your covered card in fearful yet hopeful anticipation.
4 sides!
game not over yet. it could be a 10.
you do the same for the shorter edge.
2 sides!
is it gonna be a 9 or deadmeat if it's a 10?
you take a swig of favourite liquor. smooth, velvety.
you take a DEEP breath. stands up from your seat. reach for the covered card. and slam it face side up!
9 of hearts!!!
you give a few huge shouts of victory "YESSS!!! YESSS!!! YESSS!!!" as you slam your fists in cadence with your shouts along the padded edge of the baccarat table.
but that's just the start of the shoe.
you know your lucks on your side tonight.
you negotiate with the VIP executive to request for NO LIMIT gaming. he made a few phone calls.
"i beg your pardon mr Thai_Rak_Thai. you're our most valued VIP client. and i deeply apologize for disappointing you. but we've a table limit of $1 mil per hand."
being the debonair, sartorial & poised gentleman that you are, you don't want to make things difficult.
"can you please do me a favour?" (cos you're always polite & considerate to everyone, including the cleaning lady in your office)
"call sheldon to see if we can play in usd - as a personal favour - he has my number." (it's just past 11 pm local time, so it won't impose on mr adelson. you're considerate as ever).
sheldon agrees.
the night wore on.
you did lose slightly more hands than you won.
BUT.
those that you lost were chicken feed compare to the massive USD1 million per hand that won.
and those that you lost?
cushioned with the side bets you made on tie bets and player/banker pairs.
after 3 hours and 78 hands, you won 38 hands vs 40 hands.
but because your instincts were good, you only lost when you cut down to your customary floor bet of $100k. only USD4 mil loss. chicken feed.
compared to the USD$38 mil you won each time you max out the table limit.
good thing too you were playing alone. with no hangers-on eating into the table limit.
with the miscellaneous wins on tie and double player/banker bets, you're won a cool USD38mil+.
sigh.
"this even harder than work", you think to yourself.
when you regularly make a killing in the capital markets at 50 million net a pop in EUR, GBP, USD and YEN equivalents.
because you're THE finance wunderkind. THE capital market clairvoyant. THE securities savant. THE forex wizard.
"time for a good workout cos it's gonna be tarma time with the sexy russian blonde and sexy japanese high class hookers tonight at the mbs presidential suite", you chuckled to yourself.
as usual, you gave generous tips all round to the room staff (this time, easily equivalent to their annual salaries) and the executives present.
you make a mental note to increase your charitable contributions tomorrow.
just because you care enough. to care.
But seriously, I think I may put it back on the bracelet, the SD looks better back where it belongs!
) while costing less for the pleasure of owning one. that allows it to be thinner and more elegant. its mil-spec seamaster 300 inspired dial and sword hands are just pure readability and pleasurable function over form. as is it's discrete date aperture and matching black datewheel to preserve dial symmetry while still affording a date function. and who doesn't love a big triangle at 12 o'clock and rich lume in any sports watch or diver?
