"Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman!" - unam.
"Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman!" - unam. "Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman!" - unam.
off to gamble. Meanwhile I went around to the back, where the girls were getting ready for the show, and asked for my friend. She came out and I explained to her that John Big was with me, and he'd like some company after the show. "Certainly, Dick," she said. "I'll bring some friends and we'll see you after the show." I went around to the front to find John. He was still gambling. "Just go in without me," he said. "I'll be there in a minute." There were two tables, at the very front, right at the edge of the stage. Every other table in the place was packed. I sat down by myself. The show started before John came in, and the show girls came out. They could see me at the table, all by myself. Before, they thought I was some smalltime professor; now they see I'm a BIG OPERATOR. Finally John came in, and soon afterwards some people sat down at the table next to us John's "wife" and her friend Pam, with two men! I leaned over to John: "She's at the other table." "Yeah." She saw I was taking care of John, so she leaned over to me from the other table and asked, "Could I talk to John?" I didn't say a word. John didn't say anything either. I waited a little while, then I leaned over to John: "She wants to talk to you." Then he waited a little bit. "All right," he said. I waited a little more, and then I leaned over to her: "John will speak to you now." She came over to our table. She started working on "Johnnie," sitting very close to him. Things were beginning to get straightened out a little bit, I could tell. I love to be mischievous, so every time they got things straightened out a little bit, I reminded John of something: "The telephone, John. . ." "Yeah!" he said. "What's the idea, spending an hour on the telephone?" She said it was Pam who did the calling. Things improved a little bit more, so I pointed out that it was her idea to bring Pam. "Yeah!" he said. (I was having a great time playing this game; it went on for quite a while.) When the show was over, the girls from the El Rancho came over to our table and we talked to them until they had to go back for the next show. Then John said, "I know a nice little bar not too far away from here. Let's go over there." I drove him over to the bar and we went in. "See that woman over there?" he said. "She's a really good lawyer. Come on, I'll introduce you to her." John introduced us and excused himself to go to the restroom. He never came back. I think he wanted to get back with his "wife" and I was beginning to interfere. I said, "Hi" to the woman and ordered a drink for myself (still playing this game of not being impressed and not being a gentleman). "You know," she said to me, "I'm one of the better lawyers here in Las Vegas." "Oh, no, you're not," I replied coolly. "You might be a lawyer during the day, but you know what you are right now? You're just a barfly in a small bar in Vegas." She liked me, and we went to a few places dancing. She danced very well, and I love to dance, so we had a great time together. Then, all of a sudden in the middle of a dance, my back began to hurt. It was
some kind of big pain, and it started suddenly. I know now what it was: I had been up for three days and nights having these crazy adventures, and I was completely exhausted. She said she would take me home. As soon as I got into her bed I went BONGO! I was out. The next morning I woke up in this beautiful bed. The sun was shining, and there was no sign of her. Instead, there was a maid. "Sir," she said, "are you awake? I'm ready with breakfast." "Well, uh. . ." "I'll bring it to you. What would you like?" and she went through a whole menu of breakfasts. I ordered breakfast and had it in bed in the bed of a woman I didn't know; I didn't know who she was or where she came from! I asked the maid a few questions, and she didn't know anything about this mysterious woman either: She had just been hired, and it was her first day on the job. She thought I was the man of the house, and found it curious that I was asking her questions. I got dressed, finally, and left. I never saw the mysterious woman again. The first time I was in Las Vegas I sat down and figured out the odds for everything, and I discovered that the odds for the crap table were something like .493. If I bet a dollar, it would only cost me 1.4 cents. So I thought to myself, "Why am I so reluctant to bet? It hardly costs anything!" So I started betting, and right away I lost five dollars in succession one, two, three, four, five. I was supposed to be out only seven cents; instead, I was five dollars behind! I've never gambled since then (with my own money, that is). I'm very lucky that I started off losing. One time I was eating lunch with one of the show girls. It was a quiet time in the afternoon; there was not the usual big bustle, and she said, "See that man over there, walking across the lawn? That's Nick the Greek. He's a professional gambler." Now I knew damn well what all the odds were in Las Vegas, so I said, "How can he be a professional gambler?" "I'll call him over." Nick came over and she introduced us. "Marilyn tells me that you're a professional gambler." "That's correct." "Well, I'd like to know how it's possible to make your living gambling, because at the table, the odds are .493." "You're right," he said, "and I'll explain it to you. I don't bet on the table, or things like that. I only bet when the odds are in my favor." "Huh? When are the odds ever in your favor?" I asked incredulously. "It's really quite easy," he said. "I'm standing around a table, when some guy says, 'It's comin' out nine! It's gotta be a nine!' The guy's excited; he thinks it's going to be a nine, and he wants to bet. Now I know the odds for all the numbers inside out, so I say to him, 'I'll bet you four to three it's not a nine,' and I win in the long run. I don't bet on the table; instead, I bet with people around the table who have prejudices superstitious ideas about lucky numbers." Nick continued: "Now that I've got a reputation, it's even easier, because people
- Page 83 and 84: it appeared, depends on the same li
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some kind of big pain, and it started suddenly. I know now what it was: I had been up for<br />
three days and nights having these crazy adventures, and I was completely exhausted.<br />
She said she would take me home. As soon as I got into her bed I went BONGO!<br />
I was out.<br />
The next morning I woke up in this beautiful bed. The sun was shining, and there<br />
was no sign of her. Instead, there was a maid. "Sir," she said, "are you awake? I'm ready<br />
with breakfast."<br />
"Well, uh. . ."<br />
"I'll bring it to you. What would you like?" and she went through a whole menu of<br />
breakfasts.<br />
I ordered breakfast and had it in bed in the bed of a woman I didn't know; I<br />
didn't know who she was or where she came from!<br />
I asked the maid a few questions, and she didn't know anything about this<br />
mysterious woman either: She had just been hired, and it was her first day on the job. She<br />
thought I was the man of the house, and found it curious that I was asking her questions. I<br />
got dressed, finally, and left. I never saw the mysterious woman again.<br />
The first time I was in Las Vegas I sat down and figured out the odds for<br />
everything, and I discovered that the odds for the crap table were something like .493. If I<br />
bet a dollar, it would only cost me 1.4 cents. So I thought to myself, "Why am I so<br />
reluctant to bet? It hardly costs anything!"<br />
So I started betting, and right away I lost five dollars in succession one, two,<br />
three, four, five. I was supposed to be out only seven cents; instead, I was five dollars<br />
behind! I've never gambled since then (with my own money, that is). I'm very lucky that I<br />
started off losing.<br />
One time I was eating lunch with one of the show girls. It was a quiet time in the<br />
afternoon; there was not the usual big bustle, and she said, "See that man over there,<br />
walking across the lawn? That's Nick the Greek. He's a professional gambler."<br />
Now I knew damn well what all the odds were in Las Vegas, so I said, "How can<br />
he be a professional gambler?"<br />
"I'll call him over."<br />
Nick came over and she introduced us. "Marilyn tells me that you're a<br />
professional gambler."<br />
"That's correct."<br />
"Well, I'd like to know how it's possible to make your living gambling, because at<br />
the table, the odds are .493."<br />
"<strong>You're</strong> right," he said, "and I'll explain it to you. I don't bet on the table, or things<br />
like that. I only bet when the odds are in my favor."<br />
"Huh? When are the odds ever in your favor?" I asked incredulously.<br />
"It's really quite easy," he said. "I'm standing around a table, when some guy says,<br />
'It's comin' out nine! It's gotta be a nine!' The guy's excited; he thinks it's going to be a<br />
nine, and he wants to bet. Now I know the odds for all the numbers inside out, so I say to<br />
him, 'I'll bet you four to three it's not a nine,' and I win in the long run. I don't bet on the<br />
table; instead, I bet with people around the table who have prejudices superstitious<br />
ideas about lucky numbers."<br />
Nick continued: "Now that I've got a reputation, it's even easier, because people
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