Oh, all right. I know I’m a cranky old man. Often when I’m playing, usually two machines and trying to concentrate with all my, uh, concentration, along comes two or three drunk tourists (or locals, who knows?) standing directly behind me, carrying on a conversation at a controlled yell. This thrills me to no end. Sometimes it’s actually a player jabbering away like some half-wit about:
(1)”How you should play this hand is…” – to his or her companion, and the advice is not just usually incorrect, it’s ALWAYS INCORRECT!
(2)”Aunt Martha just hit a Full House!”
(3)”Have you seen uncle Roy?”, “No, last I saw him he was a’goin to get a drink at that fancy bar.” (last time I saw him he was headin towards the elevator with that fancy hooker.)
Add to this the piercing screams that seem to be de rigueur these days for anyone hitting …