I live about an hour or so from Atlantic City. I only realized I lived that close about three years ago. Usually, if I headed to the beach, I headed to the water and sand and never gave a thought about the bright lights of the casinos, so I sort of forgot the entire city was even there.
One Saturday morning, my husband suggested that we take a ride to Atlantic City and have some fun. I am always up for an adventure, so I was intrigued. I wasn’t exactly sure what I would play in the casino. I knew how to play poker; I played in college, but it was a very low stress game. The games were always coed, and if you were a player of the female persuasion and you lost, you only had to put on a sad face and the guys would worry that you were going to cry, so they would just say “Oh, forget it, you don’t have to pay me.” I went three years without losing a dime in poker. It was not a good training camp for the real game.
You can understand why, with my poker background, I didn’t want to play with “pros” in the casino. I just think a sad face would not work on that crowd plus I never developed a knack for the whole check, call, and raise process. So, my husband told me about video poker, and I thought this is something I could get into.
When we got to the casino, my husband wanted to go to the black jack tables. We both had cell phones, so I sent him on his merry way, so I could explore the casino. I found this fun video poker game that spun like the slot machines. This nice gentleman offered me a seat next to him and gave me a quick lesson on “Spin Poker.” I put a $20 bill in and my first hand popped up. I selected the cards I wanted to play, hit spin, and I got four aces. I decided I liked this game.
When the aces hit, I made sure I didn’t scream or carry on, but unintentionally, I let out a little squeal. Unfortunately, there was an old witch on the opposite side of my new gentleman friend who complained because I showed inconsiderate emotion. I am not calling her a witch because she was mean (which she was). I am calling her a witch because she had all these little troll dolls and voodoo things lined up on top of her machine and kept asking them to help her. Until that day, I was unaware that there was a deity devoted to gambling. I must have missed that chapter in catechism class.
Anyway, she did not like that I won because she said it dragged down her chances of winning. I didn’t get why that would be, but I didn’t want to talk to her too much, so I let it go. The next five minutes, I was winning and losing, and the game started to get boring. Then, it happened. I hit the spin button and five twos came up! The token counter kept going up and up and bells went off, and I knew it was a good thing, but I didn’t know how good it was. My gentleman friend hugged me and was screaming with delight for me, and the old witch just gave him the dirtiest look, and I said,
“Maybe we shouldn’t be so loud.”
“Why? Because of her?” he asked. “Ignore the old bat and enjoy the win!” I looked over at her again, and she was glaring. Her nostrils were literally exhaling smoke, and she was not smoking cigarettes.
“Uh-oh. She heard you. Don’t say that! She is really ticked off!” I whispered in a concerned tone.
