A Crap-Shoot of a Birthday

A couple of years ago, I told the story of how I was “almost” arrested on my birthday (see here).  That story was written the night it happened.

This is about a birthday in Vegas a long, long time ago, when I celebrated my birthday by (almost) witnessing a daring casino robbery.  As my next birthday is right around the corner, now seems a good time to recall that night.

I was in town for my birthday and let’s just say it was one of those “Big-0” birthdays.  When I walked into this particular casino—let’s call it The Flamingo Hilton, since that was its name at the time—it wasn’t quite my birthday yet, but by the time the robbery took place, it was after midnight and thus was actually the anniversary of my birth.

This was long before I was a poker player. I’ll pause so the reader can make the obligatory joke that nothing has really changed in that regard.  In those days, my games of choice were blackjack and craps.  If things got really bad, I might try my luck at Keno.  I might also have played a little video poker to kill time.  But basically it was blackjack and craps.

This was so long ago that you could still play those games for a $2 minimum bet.  Not at every casino, but at more than a few.  The fact that you can no longer play them for $2 goes a long way to explaining why I no longer play them.

The Flamingo Hilton was one of the last “nice” casinos that still offered $2 craps, at least during the week.  So on this particular night, I walked in there to play some dice.  

I got into a game and it was pretty good.  The table was nearly full, and the dice were hot.  I was starting to win a little money.  Each shooter was making a few points, and things were looking good.  Finally, one shooter got started on a really nice roll.  Everyone was having a good time.  My birthday was off to a great start.

The craps tables were pretty far away from the casino cage, but from somewhere, we heard a loud, booming voice, shouting “Get down!  Everybody get down!”

Seeing as how we were in a good craps game, we did what anybody would do in that situation.  We kept playing.

But not for long.  Soon the dealers at the table, the box man, the floor people behind them, were all shouting, “Get down.  Get down.”

They weren’t suggesting that we start dancing.

We saw the dealers all basically dive under the craps table.  So the players followed suit.  And for several minutes, we were all just on our knees under the craps table.  Presumably, everyone at every table in the casino was doing the same thing.  And I guess at the slot machines too.  We heard murmurs that the casino was being robbed.

It was a bit unnerving to say the least.

Eventually people started walking around the casino telling everybody to get up and that everything was ok.

So we got back up.  Nobody’s chips at that craps table—or anywhere else, as I far as I knew—had been touched while we were all down on our hands and knees.

The game resumed as if nothing had happened.

Well, almost.

One couple, scared shitless, picked up all their chips and got the hell out of there.  I don’t think they stopped by the cashier to cash in their chips.  Maybe—maybe—they went into a nearby casino and cashed their chips there.  But they might have just taken the next cab to the airport and gotten the hell out of Vegas and returned to their nice little Midwest hometown (I’m just assuming) on the very next flight.

The other thing that changed was that the shooter immediately 7’d out on his first post-robbery roll.  And the game never recovered.  The damn crooks had turned a hot craps table into a very cold one.

I don’t recall how much longer I stayed.  But I went over to the cashier to cash out and of course there were now tons of security people and cops there.  And I did indeed ask the cashier if they had been robbed.

I was assured that they had been.  A bunch of guys carrying heavy artillery came in, hoped over the cage and shoved guns in a few people’s faces and helped themselves to tons of cash.

No shots were fired, no one was hurt, and they got away with a ton of money.

We later found out that it was an L.A. gang that stole the money.  They had robbed one or two casinos previously and would rob at least one more before they were caught.

The next time I went into the Flamingo, the cage was enclosed in glass.

Not exactly the kind of birthday surprise I was hoping for.  But definitely the most unusual birthday I’ve ever had.