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Copyrights reserved by the author. If you are in doubt, please click on 'Copyrights' and read the details. In a casino, the best luck is often away from the table! By J. G. Fabiano All this talk about a casino next door reminded me of my own first visit to a casino, 20 years ago when I was in Las Vegas on my honeymoon. Most of the flight there had been nothing but inky darkness outside my cabin window, but as we came within about 100 miles of Las Vegas there was a brilliant red glow on the horizon. It got brighter and brighter until it looked like we were descending into a city that was on fire from end to end. I actually had to pull down the shade because it hurt my eyes, and that was from 20,000 feet! Driving from the airport to our hotel my perspective changed completely. I now felt as though I had been miniaturized and was lost somewhere inside a radioactive Christmas tree. As if a billion brilliant flashing lights weren't enough there was chrome, steel and glass everywhere so that the light was refracted, multiplied and intensified so it was possible to get a tan in the back of a cab in the middle of the night. Slot machines were everywhere too. I don't think I have ever seen human ingenuity so evident as it was in finding new places to put slot machines in Las Vegas. There were slots at the disembarkation gate at the airport, there were slots in the airport bathroom, there were slots in the grocery stores and gas stations, even the little mom and pop operations. There were slots at the side of the road in case you had a sudden need to pull over and lose a roll of quarters. They were slots at the check-in desk at our hotel, slots all over the lobby, slots in the hallways on the way to our room. I was actually surprised to see that, for some strange reason, there weren't slots in the elevator. The other thing I noticed was that all these slot machines were being used. There were none, absolutely none, left untended. No sooner had we got inside our room than I was pleading with my new wife to let me go down to the casino. My beautiful, sweet, understanding new wife said I could take a few minutes while she unpacked and organized our stuff. How could any man not love a woman like that? I ran all the way down to the casino! It felt like I had stepped into the ultimate grown-up Fantasyland. There were lights everywhere, dazzling, blinding, bewitching, and the noise was fantastic. Bells, buzzers, whistles, hooters, music, people screaming with excitement, the sound of cascading money, jackpots changing lives in cascades of gold and silver. There were beautiful, scantily clad women peddling drinks to guys who wouldn't have noticed if they were stark naked. I just knew my fortune was waiting for me. What can I tell you? I was in love, I was on my honeymoon, I felt lucky. Wandering dazedly past the clattering ranks of flashing slot machines I noticed one unattended machine next to a rather large woman who seemed totally focused on her own machine. I saw another empty machine next to her and hesitated, wondering if she had a personal hygiene problem. Throwing caution to the wind I sat down next to her and pumped a quarter into the slot. The rather large woman turned her head towards me, a look of absolute horror on her face and she screamed so loud I think she blew my hairline back a full half inch. I felt like ET in the closet and screamed back.After about 10 seconds of the two of us screaming at each other she yelled at me in what I believe was an ancient and rather coarse form of early English that I had busted up her system and if I didn't get out of that chair immediately she was going to remove a certain part of my anatomy, a rather essential part of my anatomy when I was on honeymoon. I also noticed that everyone in that row of slot machines was staring at me like they wanted to hold me down while she performed the necessary surgery. Realizing I had committed a major breach of casino etiquette that was about to result in direct bodily harm I vacated the seat and went in search of friendlier folks and a friendlier game. I noticed an empty seat at a blackjack table and politely asked the elderly gentleman next to it if it was taken. I remember this gentleman was wearing a pinky ring with a stone in it I think might have been a diamond except it was the size of a bagel. The gentleman told me the seat was vacant and I sat down and took out a ten dollar bill figuring I'd stretch it over a few hands until my wife came down. A strange silence settled around the table. Most of the other players looked like sweet, grandmotherly types who should have been playing small stakes bingo but they looked at my $10 bill like it was a used Kleenex and fixed me with eyes as hard as poker chips. The dealer smiled at me and explained helpfully that I was at the $100 table. I sucked in a deep breath, took my $10 bill off the table before it caused any further offense and slunk quietly away. I continued through the cavernous, cacophonous building wondering if casino gambling was as much fun as I had thought it would be then remembered I had my camera with me and I should take a few pictures because, gosh darn, the folks at home would just never believe this. I put the camera to my eye and was about to squeeze the shutter button when I felt a large and very heavy hand on my shoulder. I looked around and up, way up, into the disapproving face of a man who looked like King Kong with a shave, a haircut, and a tight-fitting suit. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked in a voice that sounded like a load of wet gravel in a rolling drum I told him the truth. I had no idea what I was doing. He crooked a finger the size of a cob of corn and I handed over my camera. "You can pick this up on your way out," he growled and walked off with the camera that was supposed to record my honeymoon. I guess the casino didn't want any pictures to get out of how much fun all the customers were having. Or maybe they thought if pictures ever got out of thousands of human beings in leisure suits penned into one room like battery farm chickens it would be bad for business. I looked at my watch. I had been in the casino nearly half an hour and still hadn't matched wits against the house. Or maybe I had and was too dumb to realize I was already behind. However, I couldn't let my new wife, who would be along any minute now, think she had married a complete hayseed. I finally found a seat at a small stakes blackjack table and bought $10 worth of chips. To my immense satisfaction I won the first hand, and the next hand and the hand after that. My luck was changing. My wife would be so proud! I went on to win the next 10 hands and the pile of chips in front of me grew to something the size of Mount Agamenticus but I didn't want Mount Agamenticus, I wanted more. I wanted Mount Everest! I started betting bigger and bigger. Almost immediately my luck changed. My pile of winnings melted faster than the ice in my glass. A small voice inside my head kept telling me to quit while I was ahead. I told it to shut up, that I knew what I was doing and I watched my money disappear faster and faster until the $200 or so I had won was all gone and with it my $10 stake. My wife's timing was impeccable: she found me the second I lost my last dollar. She led me away from the table as I babbled inanely about the fortune I had acquired and she gave me an understanding smile that I have come to know very well over the course of our marriage. She led me out of the casino and off to an elegant restaurant she had found where we could both enjoy a nice, romantic candlelit dinner. We ordered champagne, my wife snuggled close to me and I felt an immense feeling of relief sweep over me as I realized what a lucky man I was really. Then my wife asked me if I could loan the camera to the waiter so he could take our picture together! The End
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