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Cracked crab and high stakes: The VIP’s life
Ventola dreams about gambling. That morning, he blindly bet on soccer just to make the World Cup — which was under way in Germany that week — interesting. Now, he's craving blackjack. Five minutes.
"Well, maybe just to check and see if it's the same," DePasquale replies, smiling, "if they changed the colors."
DePasquale can't resist. He'd take an unbeatable night gambling over a night with a beautiful woman anytime. There are plenty of beautiful women.
"There's nothing more exciting than making a score," he says. "It's when you're popping champagne and you're laughing and you're joking and everybody's slapping each other five. And everything seems like the perfect world."
The casino staff greets them by name. Ventola lays $3,000 on the table. As he wins, he rolls the money into the next bet. It's called progressive betting and, if he catches a run of good cards, it's the fastest way to turn huge profits. Within minutes, he's up thousands of dollars, playing $4,000 a hand.
It's gone just as quickly and when Ventola returns to the dinner table — loaded now with chateaubriand, Kobe beef and Hawaiian tuna — he has only his original $3,000.
After dinner, Varano smiles and announces: "Now I want to gamble."
No roulette dealer is upstairs so the boss calls to have someone sent up. In the meantime, Varano plays a few hands of blackjack and DePasquale takes $10,000 from his credit line.
Twice in five minutes, Varano loses when the dealer catches a six to make 21. They're terrible losses and are a bad omen for DePasquale, who abruptly slides all his chips to his friend. They'll settle up later but those sixes spooked DePasquale out of betting tonight.
Down a few thousand dollars and sick of blackjack, Varano gets his private roulette table just before midnight. He always plays the same 10 numbers, hoping for a 35-to-1 payoff.
He begins at $500 a spin, betting progressively. Because of the house advantage, he says betting conservatively for hours is a losing venture. With these odds and betting strategy, four or five good spins can get him his $25,000 in minutes.
He coaxes the wheel with sudden outbursts:
"We're movin' on up, just like the Jeffersons."
"C'mon now! C'mon!"
"I've got more comebacks than Judy Garland."
Not tonight. He burns through DePasquale's $10,000 and his own. DePasquale reminds him of the sixes and suggests they return next week.
This is a bad night but it barely registers on the losing story scale. It's not like when they had to mail the limousine driver a tip, or when, in Las Vegas, Varano lost a massive, potentially break-even blackjack hand, hurled his Rolex at a slot machine and tossed his last pocket change off a balcony.
"You always remember the losses more than wins because the losing stories are so much better," he says.
Varano wants to play another $20,000 but DePasquale urges restraint. It starts like this, he says, then it'll take another $80,000 to break even. Varano ponders it.
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It's no better the second time and by about 2 a.m., Varano is down more than $25,500. He's tired and they retreat to the suite to watch TV, sleep a bit, maybe take another shot around dawn before heading back.
DePasquale has a busy day tomorrow and, as he selects a bottle of wine from the bar, they call him a limousine.
"You wake up in the morning and start going crazy gambling, call me," DePasquale says on his way out. "I'll wire you some money."
DePasquale knows the routine. He'll call.
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