sorry if this has been posted before, i stole it from 2plus and first time i've ever seen it. interesting story. probably some degenerates here as well.
Sex, Lies, and Video Poker
The True Story of My Job in an Offshore Internet Casino
By Carl L. Hutton
Sex, Lies, and Video Poker: Working in an Offshore Internet Casino
by Carl Hutton on Wed 24 May 2006 10:18 AM CDT
Have you ever dreamed of a new life? A life set in an exotic location and brimming with adventure. A life where your past failures and future responsibilities are quickly forgotten. A life worthy of a Jimmy Buffet song. In the spring of 2005 I had just such a dream as I sat at my computer and paroused alluring travel pages. Paradise was offered in the form of attentive latin women amidst a tropical backdrop. Coleridge wrote of a night when he slept and dreamt of a strange and beautiful flower and when he awoke the flower was in his hand. I believe we are all granted three Coleridge moments in our lives. I used one of mine when I clicked the link ?Jobs for Native English Speakers in beautiful San Jose, Costa Rica.?
?Sir please fill these out before we land.? The flight attendants Latina accent interrupted my stare through the looping clouds. The swiss cheese cumulus provided glimpses of the setting sun. A series of quilt work avenues wound through rolling hills in a noticeably primitive fashion. I read the immigration and customs form quickly until reaching, ?The purpose of your visit.? I had accepted a job in Costa Rica, however, my legal status to work in the country was uncertain. I remembered telling Robert, the internet casino manager who had recruited me, that I was concerned about the difficulty in getting legal residency. He replied, ?We'll take care of that for you. In this country you just have to know who to bribe.? I paused and then checked the box marked tourist.
The following afternoon I reported to work. The office was located on the seventh floor of a modern building. As I stepped off the elevator I was greeted by armed security who quickly ushered me into a private office. Here I met Amit one of a handful of Indian executive types who ran the company with the stereotypical discipline of an Indian sweat shop. He took an unusual interest in my ethnicity. I responded to questions about my background by stating, ?I am among the grandchildren of American pioneers who made their way west in covered wagons. My name is British though I am very likely of mixed European ancestry.? In a voice combining the high pitch of the Simpson's convenience store manager and the cold drawl of the godfather he replied, ?We brought you here because you're an American. If anyone asks you say I'm an American.?
I began training that day learning the basics of casino gambling. Many of my coworkers spoke English as a second language. They would occasionally miss the nuance of American slang. On one occasion Jose responded to a live chat message by typing ?I'm your fairy queen.? I asked him ?Do you know what that means.' ?Yes?, he replied, ? It means I'm his dream come true.? I responded,? Its more likely to be taken to mean that you're a homosexual.?
It soon became clear that I was brought on board for my English skills and for my accent. American gamblers are put at ease by a midwestern accent. Interacting with a familiar voice made the customers less likely to ask the three tough questions , ?Where are you located?? , ?How are you regulated??, and ?Where is my money going?? American accents helped to create an image of legitimacy. In reality the casino was subject to very little regulation. When a government official did come calling, ?You just had to know who to bribe.?
My first day off work in an exotic new country provided the perfect opportunity for exploring. The sky was blue, the wind gentle, and the temperature a flawless 72 degrees. I headed for the bus stop to downtown San Jose. I walked through the public square and decided to take Frost's advice. I tossed the tourist map and took the road less traveled by. I carried with me only a small amount of the local currency, my Oklahoma values, and Oklahoma Naivete. I made my way through crowded open air markets and bustling avenues. The businesses consisted of concrete buildings with metal doors that rolled upward opening to the street and pleasant breeze. I passed restaurants with only three chairs and only beans and rice for sale, limbless beggars laid on the corner with tin cups, and whores plying their trade in broad daylight. Often children would stare directly at me as if I were the first white man they had ever seen. The beggars would follow me for blocks proclaiming in broken English, ?Money, hungry please!? The whores were not as persistent following me only a few yards beyond their designated corner. In a provocative voice one said, ?Massaje o Sexo?. While with one hand she sought to arouse me the other sought to pick my pocket. This was a world absent the niceties of middle America. People were hungry and a white man meant money. They were not ashamed to beg, borrow, or steal and I was a prime target. I came from a world where honesty was valued above all else. A world where building relationships was essential. I was once told, ?Provide good service today and you will have a customer for a lifetime and perhaps even a friend.? I soon learned that in a world where people are struggling these values are quickly tossed. The poor and the wealthy alike lived by a different moniker. ?Get what you can now because there may be no tomorrow.? This was the rule of the day. It was religiously followed by the people on the streets and by the Indian executives at the internet casino.
Sex, Lies, and Video Poker
The True Story of My Job in an Offshore Internet Casino
By Carl L. Hutton
Sex, Lies, and Video Poker: Working in an Offshore Internet Casino
by Carl Hutton on Wed 24 May 2006 10:18 AM CDT
Have you ever dreamed of a new life? A life set in an exotic location and brimming with adventure. A life where your past failures and future responsibilities are quickly forgotten. A life worthy of a Jimmy Buffet song. In the spring of 2005 I had just such a dream as I sat at my computer and paroused alluring travel pages. Paradise was offered in the form of attentive latin women amidst a tropical backdrop. Coleridge wrote of a night when he slept and dreamt of a strange and beautiful flower and when he awoke the flower was in his hand. I believe we are all granted three Coleridge moments in our lives. I used one of mine when I clicked the link ?Jobs for Native English Speakers in beautiful San Jose, Costa Rica.?
?Sir please fill these out before we land.? The flight attendants Latina accent interrupted my stare through the looping clouds. The swiss cheese cumulus provided glimpses of the setting sun. A series of quilt work avenues wound through rolling hills in a noticeably primitive fashion. I read the immigration and customs form quickly until reaching, ?The purpose of your visit.? I had accepted a job in Costa Rica, however, my legal status to work in the country was uncertain. I remembered telling Robert, the internet casino manager who had recruited me, that I was concerned about the difficulty in getting legal residency. He replied, ?We'll take care of that for you. In this country you just have to know who to bribe.? I paused and then checked the box marked tourist.
The following afternoon I reported to work. The office was located on the seventh floor of a modern building. As I stepped off the elevator I was greeted by armed security who quickly ushered me into a private office. Here I met Amit one of a handful of Indian executive types who ran the company with the stereotypical discipline of an Indian sweat shop. He took an unusual interest in my ethnicity. I responded to questions about my background by stating, ?I am among the grandchildren of American pioneers who made their way west in covered wagons. My name is British though I am very likely of mixed European ancestry.? In a voice combining the high pitch of the Simpson's convenience store manager and the cold drawl of the godfather he replied, ?We brought you here because you're an American. If anyone asks you say I'm an American.?
I began training that day learning the basics of casino gambling. Many of my coworkers spoke English as a second language. They would occasionally miss the nuance of American slang. On one occasion Jose responded to a live chat message by typing ?I'm your fairy queen.? I asked him ?Do you know what that means.' ?Yes?, he replied, ? It means I'm his dream come true.? I responded,? Its more likely to be taken to mean that you're a homosexual.?
It soon became clear that I was brought on board for my English skills and for my accent. American gamblers are put at ease by a midwestern accent. Interacting with a familiar voice made the customers less likely to ask the three tough questions , ?Where are you located?? , ?How are you regulated??, and ?Where is my money going?? American accents helped to create an image of legitimacy. In reality the casino was subject to very little regulation. When a government official did come calling, ?You just had to know who to bribe.?
My first day off work in an exotic new country provided the perfect opportunity for exploring. The sky was blue, the wind gentle, and the temperature a flawless 72 degrees. I headed for the bus stop to downtown San Jose. I walked through the public square and decided to take Frost's advice. I tossed the tourist map and took the road less traveled by. I carried with me only a small amount of the local currency, my Oklahoma values, and Oklahoma Naivete. I made my way through crowded open air markets and bustling avenues. The businesses consisted of concrete buildings with metal doors that rolled upward opening to the street and pleasant breeze. I passed restaurants with only three chairs and only beans and rice for sale, limbless beggars laid on the corner with tin cups, and whores plying their trade in broad daylight. Often children would stare directly at me as if I were the first white man they had ever seen. The beggars would follow me for blocks proclaiming in broken English, ?Money, hungry please!? The whores were not as persistent following me only a few yards beyond their designated corner. In a provocative voice one said, ?Massaje o Sexo?. While with one hand she sought to arouse me the other sought to pick my pocket. This was a world absent the niceties of middle America. People were hungry and a white man meant money. They were not ashamed to beg, borrow, or steal and I was a prime target. I came from a world where honesty was valued above all else. A world where building relationships was essential. I was once told, ?Provide good service today and you will have a customer for a lifetime and perhaps even a friend.? I soon learned that in a world where people are struggling these values are quickly tossed. The poor and the wealthy alike lived by a different moniker. ?Get what you can now because there may be no tomorrow.? This was the rule of the day. It was religiously followed by the people on the streets and by the Indian executives at the internet casino.