Picture this. You're out to dinner with a girl you barely know. She thinks you're just a little mysterious. She doesn't know you're logged into an unlicensed blackjack server hosted out of Moldova and you're already down thousands before the appetizers hit the table.
You're nodding along as she tells a story about her cat's gluten allergy, but you’re sweating a 16 against a dealer 9 and your phone’s on 3% battery. You hit. You bust. You hate yourself.
The waiter asks if you'd like dessert. You look him dead in the eyes and whisper, “Double down.” He returns with two lava cakes and a suspicious look.
She says you seem distant. You say you're just "processing a lot lately," but really you're trying to remember your crypto wallet password so you can reload. You excuse yourself to the bathroom and spend 11 minutes Googling “how to Venmo yourself anonymously.”
By the time the check comes, you're down $740 more and you tip 12% out of pure spite. You walk her to her car. She thanks you and says, “You’re... interesting.” You say nothing, because you’re still thinking about that 16.