Here’s an excerpt from a post written by me in 2008. Typos left in.
So it’s 2am and I’m not tired so let me hit the blackjack tables. I join a table by myself and a couple of people join. Some fairly attracted “actress” from LA who I was chatting it up with although she didn’t last long. I bought in for 300 and was down to 125. I won my case bet and ended up pushing that to about 600 until one key hand. I had 100 out and 77 against a dealer 5, which I split. My next to cards were 3’s on both hands so I doubled both of them. My double cards were a 3 and a 2 which I’m thinking, fucking awesome. Dealer busts and I pick up a nice 400 hand. I run my stack up to about 1400 or so and cash out. As I am walking back I catch a glimpse of a roulette table and think what the hell. I put 100 on black, lose. I try another 100 on black, lose. Obviously Vegas is smart for creating a single chip for 500 dollars and I test my luck on black again, lose. So after a 700 downswing I hit the bar at 430 in the morning and do a patron shot. I’m pretty bombed at this point after the shot and probably another 6 beers while playing blackjack and have to wake up at 8 the next morning. So I go back to the blackjack table and blow another hundred or two and call it a night.
Back to the blackjack table at 5am after a $500 blackjack spin.
This was during a roofing expo I went to with JC. I read the rest of the post and realized that on another night, JC and I stayed out until 3 a.m., gambling and talking. Now? I’m in bed by 11. And this wasn’t some outlier – 2 a.m. was early back then. It’s wild to read because that was me.
More importantly, that blackjack table probably represented 5% of my total net worth at the time. That’s when money was fun. When it actually mattered. Now I’m – presumably – the CEO of a multi-trillion-dollar company. The funny part is that there’s still a piece of me that wishes I had that same live-free attitude.
Today, I get nervous if I have too many beers because I might not be sharp for “important” calls the next day. Back then, I didn’t care if I got three hours of sleep and needed to rush to the airport. Has that much changed?
Obviously… yes.
As the money grew, so did the responsibility. I’m nowhere near “fuck you” money – where nothing matters and you can do whatever you want – but I’m far enough along to know that people don’t want to do business with a guy doing Patrón shots at 4:30 a.m. Well, at least not the kind of people you want to do business with.
The guy in those old posts was still me – but I wouldn’t have trusted him with decisions involving millions of dollars. And yet, I’m still that same person. Right? I didn’t become someone new. That was me.
That’s why I’ve kept these blogs going all these years. It feels like that clip where Eric the Midget (listen to the first 3 minutes for a laugh and then him doing math is classic) isn’t sure if he’s himself or just the character on the show. I understand that people grow up and mature , but I truly don’t remember being that guy. Am I better version of myself now? Was I bad version in my 20’s? Would I be the same person I am today without having those nights? I think the answer is that you don’t/can’t change if it works out in the end.
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