Winning and losing.

So we went to the casino this weekend and by "we" I mean Photogal, her mom and the Mad Moldovan a.k.a. husband to the C.I.A. Agent (said agent A.K.A. Photogal’s sister.) Yeah, so, we all head off. I admit that I wasn’t really too gung-ho about the trip since casinos have roughly the same effect on me as do strip clubs in that both venues tend to severely depress me by virtue of wave after wave of the sheer desperation coming off most patrons involved in either enterprise.

When I’m trying to be empathetic I get wordy so please forgive me.

So the primary reason I acquiesce and go to the casino is because a) I was promised free chicken and I was hungry and b) if I didn’t go I really wouldn’t have a chance to hang out with Photogal at all on Sunday. Originally this seemed like a terrific idea since I had planned on wasting the day on the couch consuming DVD after DVD of empty-minded goodness. As Sunday morning rolled around though I decided that the activity I had so looked forward to no longer seemed as appealing as spending time with my girlfriend.

What the fuck is wrong with me, huh?

I keep avoiding talking about the casino itself and I don’t really mean to. We got there and found out that you had to pay admission for entry (which makes no sense since who the hell wants to pay money to lose money?!) which prompted Photogal’s mom to don the boxing gloves only to be faced off at the pass by a generous lady with a bunch of tickets leading to our free admission. Once inside it was just as S-C-A-R-Y as I thought it would be. Photogal asked a gentlemen providing aid on the floor where the non-smoking area was only to be informed that there was NO non-smoking area. That’s when I saw the person with an oxygen tank connected to their chair smoking a Virginia Slim. WHAT?!

I know you’re dying to know how much money I lost so I’ll just blurt it out right here and end the anticipation. I usually don't gamble, but when I do I try to bet with only as much dough as I can afford to lose, but this time I broke my own rule and lost more than I could afford.

I left the casino down six bucks. Yes, I am that poor right now. Thank you very much.

Now I know you are just dying to know how Photogal did, right? Dying dying dying to know.

She played slots and won. She played Blackjack and won. SHE WON AT EVERYTHING! And she more than tripled her money. She has the best luck. She totally sucks. Everyone else in our party lost so I’m sure we looked funny leaving as Photogal skipped on air surrounded by three gloomy storm clouds.

What did I do during her winning streak? I stood behind her reading the latest Davy Rothbart collection of short stories whilst, unbeknownst to me, I was being stalked by the security guards who could figure out a) why I was just standing there and not gambling and b) why anyone would come to a casino to read. I’m a freak. I wish I had noticed this hullabaloo though since Photogal said it was really funny to watch the security guy "nonchalantly" crane his head upside-down in attempt after failed attempt to catch a glimpse of the title of the book I was reading. Sorry security dude, next time just ask.

Anyway, in order to drown the sorrows of this motley crew of mostly losers we stopped at a Steak And Shake in an attempt to find solace in greasy, meaty burgers and oh-so-chocolaty shakes. This indeed would have allowed the day to end happily if I had only kept my mouth shut when the bill came and offered in my own two cents on what the appropriate tip would be on the total. Having worked in restaurants and bars I am of the mindset that you never leave less than five bucks, no matter what the bill’s total, but apparently not everyone shares my belief in this matter. Fair enough. A wise man would have just surreptitiously left a few extra bucks on the table but nooOOOooo, I had to open my big fat mouth and unintentionally insult the person who was actually treating me to a free meal. Talk about biting the hand, man…I felt like such a heel once my righteous indignation had cooled from molten fire to useless slug.

So it sounds like a total disaster, right? I should’ve stayed home and watched movies after all, right? Eating popcorn and sucking on sodas, right?

Wrong.

Even after the lost dough, emotional vacuum of the casino and utter embarrassment of making an ass of myself in a wholly avoidable situation I was still glad I decided to go.

Why?

Because ultimately the day’s events put a smile on Photogal’s face and that made it all worth it.¹

So there.

¹I know, I know. You just threw up in your mouth a little. Deal with it. I’m allowed to be mushy about my gal from time to time, okay?