Coffee-Housing: BioVlog 133 of 384
Blowers and I drive to the lawyer’s elegant place. We play at a dinner table with placemats, as food and drinks are catered.
Right up front I cover the vision question by saying simply, “my eyes were damaged during the war and My roommate accidentally stepped on and smashed my glasses and, someone will need to call out the face-up cards.”
My collaborator says casually, “No problem, I’ll take care of that.”
Where I have an advantage over the sighted cardmen is I never have to glance down at the deck to see what my fingers are doing. I am always practicing card sleights while looking at the players, as we all laugh and crack jokes with a little coffee-housing, yet my little fingers are independently taking care of business.
We continue to play late into the night. During a break My partner switches for the stacked deck.
Together, my accomplice and I clean out the others without arousing any suspicion, until the last hand is played . . . and this is why it is the last hand.