Monday, November 19, 2007

Casino Day

And now, my tale from the casino.

I only had about 2 hours to lose my money. That's because we had to drag the spawn with us. First cat out of the bag, the #1 son had a tiff with HH over Lappy. HH decreed that Lappy would remain in the LSUV. Once inside, the boy whined, "What am I supposed to DO for an hour, anyway?" I don't know why Lappy was banned. Probably just a power play by HH. So when I asked if we could go back and get Lappy, HH relented. What did HE care? He was going into the casino. Once settled on a comfy bench near an electrical outlet, the boys and I passed the time until MY turn. #1 played games. The Pony had brought his DS Lite and a book, but he watched the amazing Lappy like a TV. I watched people.

A problem arose when I needed to use the facilities. I'm taking blood pressure medicine, you know. So I have to go a lot in the morning. The problem was that we were light years away from the bathroom, because of the electrical outlet situation. I was like a doe leaving her fawn curled up in a meadow. I gave the boys instructions not to talk to anybody, not to leave with anybody and told #1 that if someone ran off with his brother, he had to do something. Perhaps scream, "I WON!", because 'HELP' would be ignored, and 'FIRE' would get him arrested. There were several false starts. I would spy an especially creepy individual, like the guy rubbing his package in loose jeans. OK, maybe he just had an itch, but it was not appropriate. He was way down by the check-in counter, and I watched him until he went the other way. Then there were several sweatpants-wearing, clog-shod, Simpsons comic-book-guy lookalikes that strolled by. That's clogs, no socks. And ponytails. Not that I'm stereotyping or anything, but you can't be too careful when you're about to leave your children alone in the casino. I did not see any security people all morning. That is unusual. I was sure that the minute I walked away, they would swoop in and take my children to a super-secret holding area until I went to someone in charge and asked what happened to the kids I left alone. There are cameras everywhere, you know. But alas, my boys were right where I left them when I came out.

While people-watching, I pointed (discretely, people!) and said, "There is your future. You, #1, will be pushing me through the casino in my wheelchair while towing my oxygen tank, after your brother has clipped my toenails." He nodded. "And after he's changed you diaper."

After HH lost the money I graciously gave him from my stash, it was time for him take the boys over to Ameristar's game room while I got my turn at Harrah's. I wasted no time in leaving them standing in the hall. I raced to the Mardi Gras side, and found myself impeded by a threesome of geezers who had left their Rascals at home. The old man was leaning worse than the Tower of Pisa. He had on white pants and boat shoes. Maybe he was still on his sea legs, I don't know. But the casinos in Missouri ARE supposed to be on boats or 'floating platforms'. His two red-lipped concubines looked like they had a combined age of 225. They covered the entire aisle, from the bar to The Range steakhouse. I almost made it around them on the left, but a sweater-set duo cut me off. They were OH SO TALL, and looked like a possible mother-daughter combo.

Here is the horror. They jumped in front of me in the line to scan player's cards to enter the casino, and came to a dead halt. Neither of them had the card ready. They each had to fumble in their purses for them. I cry foul! You snooze, you lose! Step out of line and do your diggin', Lame-Os. THEN, the young one (and by that, I mean 55-year-old) got scanned and disappeared. I was afraid I might have to change a diaper. The older one pulled out the most gosh-awful keyring of casino cards you never want to see. They were all on her little stretchy telephone-cordy leash thingy. Her card wouldn't scan. Finally, the scanner told her she needed to take a few of the competitor's cards off the stringer. Thank the Gummi Mary, she didn't do it right there. Perhaps she had plans to call her daughter on her Jitterbug and have a card-sorting party over cocktails later. In any event, she went through the nonexistent turnstile, and STOPPED. She looked past the scanner to a security guard who was busy not keeping kids from being abducted. "Did anyone find a green sweater in here last night?" Jeez, Louise. Put a leash on your accessories already. The Alzheimer's has set in.

I finally entered the casino, poured myself a big cup of ain't gonna happen--oops! That's what I do at school every morning. No. I mixed up a free soda of Sierra Mist, Pepsi, and Diet Pepsi, and settled down at the third machine I tried. It was loose. I played out my remaining hours happily. Until the last 10 minutes, when Chatty Cathy sat down next to me at the round 3X 4X 5X kiosk. I think that's the game. I've never played it before. I'm usually a Hot Peppers or Triple Cherry kind of gal. And Chatty smoked. I was not pleased. I could inhale her second-hand smoke if it was quiet smoke. But she interfered with my system. I need silence. I keep a running total of the payback credits, and cash them out before I gamble them away. I keep a tally in my head of how many spins since the last payoff. That helps me decide how many credits I want to be on each pull/push. You can't do that while chatting. Unless you have a wicked case of OCD, perhaps. But mine is just mild. So I suffered through it until my time was up.

I went to the bathroom to count my money, because I figured there was less chance of being observed on the toilet, and less camera time. Then I met HH out front, and we scanned our player's cards for a chance to win some electronic goodies that was moot, because we would not be there at the drawing from 8:00 to 10:00 p.m. But I DID win 2000 player's points. Can't beat that with a stick.

That's the tale.

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