The idea of giving your players anything above and beyond what they actually earn was an idea of Benny Binion and the Horseshoe. It really started quietly by Benny by handing room keys to his better players and telling them when they're done playing he wanted them to stay at his hotel. He would send a car to pick up the gentleman's belongings from any other hotel they would stay at and be sure to let the hotel desk know that Mr. So-and-so would now be residing at Mr. Binion's Horseshoe Hotel and no one was to talk about anything that happened to this player while at the Horseshoe. A little more play and Benny would invite him either up to the penthouse steakhouse or downstairs to the coffee shop. He would let the hostess know that the gentleman was to receive a full food and beverage comp to anything on the menu. Privately, the waiters were told to hold the food for a good 20 minutes and in that time to keep the booze flowing, and be sure to pour the premium stuff. Soon, the other hotels caught on, seeing that many of their own customers were flocking to the Horseshoe to get the freebies.

I remember back in the early 80's hanging out at the back bar where drinks were 50 cents, call drinks a buck and all the dealers would meet at the old Pioneer Club after shift where the bartenders knew them all, they knew who was on break and they'd have their drinks, usually just shots and a glass of beer sitting on the bar ready for them when their break came, they'd run over, light up a cigarette, slug down the shot, finish the beer and cigarette and back to the tables within 20 minutes. Then we'd start playing on the tables at the Pioneer and play all night, I think the dealers at the Pioneer Club made better tokes than the Horseshoe dealers since the Horseshoe dealers were better tokers than any of their players. Some of us would just ask for food comps and get a good steak dinner from the Shiftboss at the Pioneer. They undoubtedly made more money off the downtown dealers than their walk-in players. But we always ended up playing at the 'Shoe and grab a comp steak dinner from the 'Shoe also.

We would manage to eat free and have a room available at the 'Shoe almost every weekday we went in there to play. Many times I'd get a room, drink and play all night, catch a few hours of sleep and stop at home on the way to work to change clothes.

It was a fair trade. They had a built-in customer base of gamblers and you know we lost plenty; but the booze was always free and the food was always good and we were treated like high rollers except for the real high rollers. Sadly, things have changed. Since the price of the rooms and the prices of food and beverages as well as buffets going up to ridiculous amounts, those comps are coming harder and harder. Where they always took care of the dealers from the other casinos first, unless there was a whale making waves, now they act like they'd just as soon not see us knowing we'd drink plenty of their premium booze and gamble less since their limits are all raised.

Bob Linder, an old timer from Chicago came out last week to spend some time playing at the Mirage. He has money and had been in Vegas frequently, especially in the past two years when he was coming out every month. He'd stay at least three days and lose more than win, as a practice. He was just one of those guys that couldn't put together a decent wining streak. I'd seen him up $5-$6 thousand from a couple hundred dollar buy-in and walk away broke, only because he was too drunk to quit. But he didn't care and that's their best customer - a person who dfoesn't mind losing. A free room, free food, a line pass to get him through the buffet line was all it took to make him feel important. He was the type that would rather eat in the buffet than the gourmet room. And the cocktail waitresses would follow him into the buffet to make sure he was well supplied with Jack Daniels. But Bob hadn't been in town for a few months and when he returned, he returned to a new town. He thought he was in Las Vegas, but he was about to enter the Twilight Zone.

He only recently started using his players club card at the Mirage (now owned by MGM), since up until then he was reluctant to give them all the information they were asking for, mostly because his wife didn't know he was spending the time in Las Vegas rather than places he told her he was going on business, like Kansas City or Houston or wherever. But he was told straight up that unless he got a players card they could no longer give him any comps. So until then he had used his head. He had plenty of money and could afford his own food and room. As he filled out the questionnaire he explicitly requested that nothing be sent to his home for the simple reason that he didn't want his wife to find it.

A lot of good that did. Because he often played for 10 to 20 hours or more, the next shift boss didn't bother to let the host know of the request, so when the big "Mirage's ladies' lingerie beach party" for single players only was scheduled, his name came up on the computer as single and a good player. In June the host not only sent him an invitation in a big, fancy black and gold envelope, but followed it up with a phone call to let him know his penthouse suite was awaiting his arrival, along with the lingerie beach girls that would mingle with the players after the contest. Of course he phoned during the day and his wife answered the phone.

"Well yes, he ALWAYS requested the penthouse suite facing the volcano and the Strip for one" (that saved him a beheading while he slept, but he'd still get the beating) and so the code of honor was broken. The old saying, "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas" wasn't kept and now someone would have to pay, namely Bob. He got on the phone and told the host that caused all the problems that he just came into a ton of money when his grandfather died and left almost everything since his last living relative was Bob. He told him he wanted to get set up in a suite overlooking the volcano and wanted to get set up with a girl for the night. The host was overwhelmed. If he could get him and his new found money to stay at the Mirage his was sure to be promoted to head host since the current head host wasn't bringing in very many high rollers let alone a single, lonely, and rich player that just wanted some "companionship". He called the prettiest and sexiest girl that would gladly "satisfy" this poor guy for the right price." How does $10,000 sound, as well as a "commission" check after they saw how much he lost?

He grabbed some money, had one of his business partners make a call to his wife to let her know Bob was needed in Minneapolis for two days this coming weekend. He flew down to Vegas, was picked up in a limo by the Mirage, and headed to the host's office where he took out a package of $10,000 which was really all the money he could get together without his wife being wise, and showed it to the host and the casino manager who was called to meet in the host's office.

"There are twenty more of these in my briefcase that I plan to play here," Bob told them.

"I have a little surprise for you too," the host told him, and Sheri walked in dressed in her skimpiest lingerie. She was introduced to Bob with a big hug and kiss and said, "We're going to have a great time here baby." "Are we talking about sex?" Bob asked. Sheri said, "As much as you can stand" as she rubbed his leg from the inside up just past his crotch.

He turned to the host, "This is unbelievable, what are you running here a whore house? You know I'm married," and he threw the black and gold invitation along with the $10,000 on the desk. "You tell me what happens here stays here, well the only thing that's staying here is the invitation my wife got along with the phone call you personally made to let her know my suite overlooking the volcano was ready for the lingerie beach party.

"So the only thing that I'll be leaving here is the invitation." He took the money and asked for a cab to take him over to the Venetian, a word worse than any four-letter word in our vocabulary, but that's where he'll be gambling his $200,000 thanks to the great job the host did, along with the Shift boss that made sure the host knew not to let any of his private information get out in any way, shape, or form.

After the two days he spent at the Venetian, where he asked to play without having to use a players card, but won $18,000 and given one of their best suites, along with the promise of anonymity, he called the Mirage and used another name when asking to talk to the head host. But he was told the head host was no longer employed at the casino, and when asked to talk to the Shift Boss, he again was told he was given a new job as a floor man on the graveyard shift.

A just end to two people that just didn't understand the saying: "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas," isn't just a catch phrase but the eleventh commandment. I guess Moses was really Benny Binion (who is said to be the one that came up with the catch phrase). And as a reminder to the snitches, the commandment was soon tattooed on the inside of the ex-host and ex-shift boss's eye lids so they would never forget that, although Vegas is the epitome of fun, it's also taken very seriously and the players' privacy will be looked after first from now on, no matter who's job was at stake. Now when Bob wants to come out to the Venetian, a call is made by a "business partner" to let Bob's wife know that Bob was an important part of a deal; deals where he was desperately needed in places like Wichita, Kansas or Madison, Wisconsin and all those exciting places where the only partying Bob would be doing would be dinner and a few drinks with the other businessmen at places like Ramadas and Holiday Inns.

And so the saying "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas." is still safe behind locked mouths and tattooed eyelids.

Ken Pearlman