The bookie is going to kill me

So I lived in the house with this guy, Dresser. He loved to gamble on football, even used his college student loan money to pay off debts and was caught a couple of times stealing his grandma’s credit card. This was before the days when online gambling was allowed so he had to use a bookie. The bookie he used just happened to be the same guys I bet through. 

It so happened one weekend that I was up – a lot. I had been letting my winnings ride and didn’t cash in. My current total was a positive $2500. I was going to collect on Thursday – the bookie pay day. Dresser on the other hand was down about $500 heading into Sunday morning after taking a beating on college football the day before. Dresser decides he is not only going to get even today, but he is making a killing. 

Dresser loved the 49’ers to cover at the Colts. These were the Steve Young years for the 49’ers and the Jim Harbaugh days for the Colts. The 49’ers were -3 at Indianapolis and the Colts sucked. (They would finish 9-7 and ultimately make it to the playoffs). I liked the 49’ers as well and bet $100 on them that day. It was a 3 p.m. CST game. 

So not only does Dresser love the Colts, he bets five three game parlays for $500 each. If he wins them all, he gets paid 6:1 or $3,000 for each bet. After the noon games, Dresser is 2 for 3 in all of his five parlays with one game to play. He is going nuts, jumping up and down, telling me he wants to drop out of school and go to Vegas to become a professional gambler. 

I take a look at his sheet and the dumb ass has put the 49’ers -3 over the Colts in ALL of the five parlays. You know what happens right? The Colts pull off the biggest upset of the year and Dresser is down $3,000. 

On Monday night he calls the bookies trying to bet $3,000 on whatever Monday night game it is but they won’t take his bet. He needs to pay them half, $1,500 before they will take any bets. “You got the money, right?” they ask him. 

At about three in the morning on Tuesday I hear Dresser rumbling around his room. He takes his shit and leaves, drives back to St. Louis. About five hours later, 8 a.m. sharp I got bookies and muscle at my door looking for Dresser. Shit. Meanwhile, I am now up about $2600 with these guys. They want to know where he lives in St. Louis, what his parents names are, what they do, and they are going to destroy him. I mean the guy was only 5’2″ so having muscle there was just for show. But they were serious. 

Two weeks go by and I don’t hear from Dresser. The bookies won’t take any action from me until they get paid by Dresser. He shows up one night in the middle of the night. Creeping around, expecting the bookies to be waiting for him. I make it easy on the guy. I call the bookies and transfer my winnings to them and write them a check for about $400. 

Dresser drops out of school. It takes him two years to pay me back but he does. I had to drive to St. Louis like 20 times to collect money, half of which probably came courtesy of his grandmas credit card. 

The irony of this story is that this guy now works in collections.

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~ by thebooger on August 26, 2008.

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