Japanese Slang (44 page)

•   
Karichun ga ore ni kiku to demo omotteru no ka n
? Ore wa chiroriruta ja n
ze!
He thinks he can just fuck me over like that? I'm no beginner you know!

The most popular dice game over the years has been
ch
han
(odd-even). The dice throwing croupier
(tsubofuri)
shouts:

•   
Ch
ka? Han ka?
Will it be odds? Or evens?

The nervous players dally, waiting for what dice slang calls
tsukeme,
a flash of clairvoyance that will ensure the jackpot. The bets are placed, and the dice are popped into what some parlors call
tsubo
(pot) and other parlors call
bon
(tray). Some less fastidious clubs prefer
nagesai,
(throw dice), in which the croupier shakes the dice directly in his hand. The dice are briskly joggled, the clients hold their breath, and the croupier does what Japanese slang calls
kokashi
(a drop)—he lets the dice roll.

The dice are called
saikoro
(bone seed), or just
sai
for short, in remembrance of ancient times when they were first imported from China as little bits of bone. Gamblers also call their dice
kotsu
(bone),
chobo
(dots), and
ichiroku
(one-six), while the dots on the dice are called
sai no me,
or
kotsu no me
(eyes of the bone).

•   
Sono sai no me wa ore ni totcha yoku n
na.
Those dots on the dice never come right to me.

•   
Chikush
, me ga kasunde kite, kotsu no me ga yoku mie ya shin
!
Shit, I'm getting so short-sighted I can't see these dots!

The greatest fear of the Japanese dice addict is loaded dice, and modern high-stake gamblers demand electromagnetic checks before staking as much as a yen. Some careful aficionados even bring along state-of-the-art homing devices. A bogus die is called
akusai
(evil bone), or
ikasamasai
(swindling bone), and the minute lead weight that makes it tilt to a winning number is called
omori
(plummet). Some gambling circles also refer to these dice as
ittenmono
(same-dot piece): however often you throw the dice, they always tumble onto the same number.

Other terms for bogus dice are
nanabu
(seven parts),
d
gu
(“tools,” as in tools of the trade),
dara,
and
temoku.
The quintessential trick, pros explain, is to start off with bona fide dice. Play a few rounds, lose a few games, let the stakes climb, and then do a quick
saikorogui
(dice gobble) where you snatch up the respectable dice and quickly slip in the fraudulent ones.

Over the years, the swindlers, known as
ineshi,
have come up with the most outlandish tricks. One of the droller stratagems was called
anaguma
(bear in the hole). The bear, in this case, is a burly crook who sits hidden in a “hole” under the gambling board. Using magnets, strings, and even high-tech remote control devices, he secretly ensures that a parlor's fortunes remain promising.

These con artists have traditionally been known as
ame
(sweet) because of the mellifluous speech that hooks the unsuspecting, and goads them on to betting ever higher amounts. To keep the atmosphere congenial, the swindlers would surround themselves with a crowd of pleasant counterfeit customers, friends of the parlor, who would pose as high-rolling winners, landing one jackpot after the other. These shills were
known as
tsuko
(handles) and
kuchihari
(mouth stretchers). Some circles also called them
sakura
(cherry blossoms) because they were always suave individuals in attractive clothes, and people would come in throngs to see them win.

The
ch
han
dice game developed in the late Edo period (1600-1867), and has managed to flourish despite constant government persecution. In the early years, professional gamblers were carted off in chains and punished with tattoos that marked them as criminals. In Osaka they were branded with two fat horizontal stripes just above the elbow, and in Tokyo with two stripes just above the wrist.

The real reign of terror, however, began in the first year of Meiji, 1868, when the new administration passed a series of lethal anti-gambling laws in a radical attempt to bring Japan on a par with the West. The buying and selling of dice was strictly prohibited, and rows upon rows of fair-ground gambling stalls were pulled. down throughout the country and their owners thrown in jail. Masukawa K
ichi, in his 1989 book
Tobaku no Nihon Shi,
writes that repeat offenders were even decapitated, their heads displayed in public as a warning.