I was annoyed by the sudden interruption. The count was high and I had just made my largest bet. I saw the dealer's hand stop midstream with the next card half out of the shoe. The action on my table came to a standstill as I turned around to see who was responsible for the stoppage. There was a tall, distinguished-looking man standing behind me wearing a dark suit and eyeglasses. The sixty-year-old gent had a serious look on his face and was flanked by two equally stern-looking security guards. He had to be a casino bigwig. "Can I finish this hand?" I asked. "No," he said brusquely and signaled the dealer to deal me out. The dealer did as he was told and pushed my bet back. "What's going on?" I asked the gentlemen. "You're not welcome at Bally's anymore," he said. It had finally happened. I was getting barred! The other players on my table stared at us with their mouths open. It had to be their first time witnessing an event like this as well. "Why?" I asked him. "You know why. Now take your chips and go." Book jacket.