Blackjack: blonde bad, brunette good

That was the tale of this afternoon’s blackjack adventure.

My William Hill cash balance read $214, it was blowing a gale outside (far to windy to ski!) and the lodge fireplace was roaring.  What better time to while away the afternoon with a game of live blackjack?

My first dealer was Glorija.  Appropriate, because as it happened I was feeling gloriously lucky!

Feeling lucky and being lucky are two very different things and Glorija, blonde bombshell that she was, served as an emphatic reminder of this unfortunate truth.  In what seemed like minutes (probably closer to half an hour), I was $150 or so in the hole and begging for mercy.

To make matters worse, she didn’t appreciate any of my blond jokes (this was the closest I got to a smile).

I was on the canvas; battered and bruised both financially and socially just waiting to be counted out when along came a dealer change.

Exit Glorija.

Enter Hanna.

Can’t hurt to play a couple more hands, I thought.

A couple turned into a couple dozen (and then some) and before long I was well and truly back in the black…or as I like to now think of it… back in the brunette.

Nice one Hanna!