Conned. James conned.

I've been gypped!! My James Bond experience was a dud. On Friday night, we went to the casino at Cafe de Paris, and it was ok, I guess. 8 or 10 tables, with snooty French Dealers. No rectangular chips.

But that was ok, because on SATURDAY night, we were people watching at Cafe de Paris with pre-drinks, then on to the big casino! The pre-drinks were actually cool. We sat and watched the fancy cars pull up to the casino. OH--we got our picture made with a Bugatti. I looked up the value this morning: $1,700,000. Every expensive car you could think of was there, and they just kept rolling in. In Houston, my little Mercedes often gets a front row spot by the valet. If I pulled up in my car here, they would probably arrest me and drive my car into the sea.

It was quite the spectacle. And the tension was building. Only a few more minutes, and I would be rubbing elbows with tuxedo-wearing, Ferrari-driving, rectangular chip-betting mo-fos. And I was ready!

So we strode confidently past the hordes of spectators and fancy cars, went into the casino, paid our 10 EU fees, they copied our passports for some reason, the huge doors were opened for us, and we were let into this pre-casino, if you will. It had 5 roulette tables open, and I guess this was just where the tourists played. So we kept walking, looking for the James Bond place. However, I started to panic a bit, because I had a creeping sensation that this was all there was! I kept asking any casino worker who spoke English, "No, no, where is the James Bond place?? Where are all those people who drove those cars outside?" (The patrons here looked like the patrons of a downtown Las Vegas casino--crappy). I was desperate for my moment!

Yes, that was all there was. (I kept saying to anyone who would listen, that on their website you boast of having the widest variety of table games on the planet, but all you have is roulette and slots??). I finally found one fluent guy who told me that during the summer, that most of the casino is shut down. "However," he said. My heart skipped a beat. At least there is a 'however'!! "However, the rest of the games are moved to our sister casino, "Sporting", which is 2 km away. So we hopped in a cab. Sporting-bound.

But by this point, we had already sat down and played roulette. There were a few cool things about this experience. First, the table is much larger than in US casinos. You can't even reach all of the way across. That's not the cool part. This is: you get to use your own little croupier stick. We had one right in front of us, and Stacy was very protective of it. "YOU TOUCHED OUR STICK!" So you got to push your chips all over the table with it.

The second cool thing was getting to play with these chips. Different denominations were different colors and sizes. (But all round). They were very shiny and glittery. And they were slightly oblate, so they were a bit hard to stack. The $100 chips were almost as big as a drink coaster. So, I got a little of my big chip thrill.

The last cool thing was that I think everyone thought Stacy and I were famous. We had one of the few sitting spots at the table, we were the best dressed in the whole casino, and when we asked for drinks (champagne), they brought a little table behind us with our fancy glasses. Like in the US, drinks are free when you are gambling, but I think everyone else was scared to ask for one. There are no circulating waitresses. In fact there are no waitresses at all. They are all very formal men, well-attired and well-mannered. You basically have to ask a pit boss for a drink. But with 2 quick claps of his hand, one of these butler dudes was at your side in 5 seconds. I kept expecting it to be Michael Caine.

After that, we went to Sporting, but it was not much better. I lost a bunch at Blackjack, and that was that. They had baccarat, but not the real baccarat (chemin de fer, I found out). It was closed. On a Saturday night. What gives, Monte Carlo??

Our balcony of our hotel is literally 20 feet from ultra-yachts docked in the port. I'm talking 150-foot yachts. Almost like a mini-cruise ship. They are awesome. And there are yachts all over Monte Carlo of every different size and shape. I think I need a yacht.

You know when you're watching a golf tournament, and you see some poor guy shoot an 80, and you feel sorry for him? Or watching track, the guy that finishes last. Or if you watch Wimbledon, and you see Nadal or Roddick crush a guy 6-1, 6-2, 6-0, and you feel sorry for that guy? There are only 99 players better than him in the galaxy. In fact, that tennis player is so good, that you don't even know anyone who could ever win even one point against him. It's all about perspective. That dawned on me yesterday, when I started literally feeling sorry for the guys that only had single-deck, 50-foot yachts. Poor bastards.

Au revoir, y'all.

-S