I was going into my 4th hour of DD at a nice venue in Reno. I was in full, betting strategy camo mode (which most 20x1 cherry pickers would likely abhor) but effectively getting good 9x1 spreads in the
At hour #3, the successive Taiwanese (sp) dealers had become aware that I had something on the game but, by staying under the "checks" threshholds, the gabby women in the pit had no tripwire by which to become equally enlightened.
The Taiwanese dealers were passing the word that my bigger bets had matched bet $1 riders for the dealers and all was right with the world. When a stern-looking male pit-boss relieved one of his female associates, I took to my tactic of slanting the chip-stacks in my betting holes in the direction of the podium to hide the occasional greenies that would find their way into the stack, but it seemed an unnecessary tactic on this day since I had carefully selected a table opposite the direction that the bosses usually faced at the podium and he only faced east some 20% of the time. Even dual $80 stacks were passing muster.
Well into hour #4, a middling player made a comment about a rule that didn't necessarily pertain to counting. My barely audible reply
contained the phrase "per 100 hands" and... the moment the words left my lips, the Boss turned in a nano-second with a laser look at my table, seeking the source of the voice he had heard.
I kept silent for the next 10 minutes as he gazed at the table waiting for the re-emergence of "the voice" and cashed out an innocent looking 15 minutes after the tense standoff began. At that point, I had become the focus of his attention since the 3 other players didn't sound like me.
In reflection, if pays to be vigilent of any and all things that can lead to casino heat. Even a small slip of the toungue can send you packing.