So, I'm in Vegas back in '82. I'm at a blackjack table winnin’ enough money to pay my bill and maybe have a crack at that "big wheel," if you know what I mean. My fingernails are long 'cause I'm into finger picking at the time.

I'm at this one table where this little white girl is lookin' at me out of one eye. There's a Jewish grandma on one side yellin', "Gimme some caads, goddammit!" There's a Texas cowboy on the other side goin', "Hey, sweetie, hit me like you ain't never hit nobody before!"

I'm minding my own business, winning a lot of money. But, the little cracker girl dealing is gettin' upset at me; she's gonna get called on the carpet 'cause I'm whoopin' her ass. Plus, I can tell she don't like my Southern accent one bit.

I order a new drink. (Hell, you can't get drunk on those drinks; that's why they're free.) Gin and tonic. She deals. I do what I been doin' since I got here. I flip the down card up with my thumbnail. All of a sudden, she's in a down-home, get your ass off my porch, rage.

"Quit doing that!"

"Quit doin' what?"

"Quit using your fingernails to look at the cards."

"Why?"

"You're marking the cards."

I took the back of my hand and knocked that gin and tonic all over her and her damn deck. "I guess they're all marked now, ain't they?"

Ever been thrown out of a casino by two big guys named Vito?