Wallace and Grovel
Last night I had my first real go at gambling - roulette. A real game of chance that pays big, 35:1. Now, I don't like gambling, I don't like parting with my money, so as many times as I've walked through the casino to cash my check (yes, our payroll cashier is conveniently located in the casino), I've never had the strong desire to place a bet. I watch the numbers flash at each table, and there just doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the game, complete chance, and either you are lucky or you are not. But, like I said, if you are lucky, the payoff is nice.
That being said, on our way out, after examining the tables for any hint of a pattern, my fiance and I decide that a red number is bound to pop up next at a table flashing a chain of black numbers. The wheel is spinning and I'm in a zone, and for some reason, I decide that I am going to take a risk and part with $20 by placing it on Red 9, my favorite number. Call it an inkling, but I feel confident that it is going to come up, not just the color Red, but the actual number 9. My fiance tells me I should only place $10, but I don't have change, so I rush up to the dealer, my head peeking behind the crowd of anxious bettors, and ask him for ten dollars. He confirms and takes my $20 bill and gives me four chips. He sees me trying to figure out the value of the chips and he tells me they are $5 each. I then tell him I want to put ten on Red 9 and as I reach to do so, he tells me I have to wait for the next spin. I thought I was betting and that was why he changed my money, but, whatever, I'll have to wait. And then guess what number the spinning ball lands on...No, really guess...RED 9. Immediately, a surge of utter despair, mixed in with disbelief that my instinct was so dead-on, and a strong desire to shake the dealer within an inch of his life filled my entire being. And so, I did what any self-respecting, mature adult would do in that situation - I broke down in tears...IN the casino...like a baby. I couldn't believe that I was just shut out from winning $350 dollars right there, it was right there in front of me, I thought I was placing the bet, something told me my number was coming up. And the dealer wouldn't let me put the money down. Perhaps I took just a second too long trying to sort out the chips and place the bet, but I was just so confused, because I thought the dealer was with me when he changed the money, that it was implicit that I was changing money to put it on the table. So, I'm standing there in complete shock with $20 worth of chips, tears streaming down my cheeks (actually, no, I waited until I was a couple of feet away from the table to have my breakdown), and the dealer looks at me as if I am going to put my bet down NOW - because, YES, Red 9 is bound to come up next again (NOT). My fiance didn't realize how upset I was until I was repeatedly sobbing on the way to the car. My mother tells a story of how I had a complete breakdown on the bus when I was about one or two years old, because in her hurry to board the crowded bus, she didn't let me put the change in. And that is exactly how I felt last night - my one year old self came out in full force. I probably, as a toddler, planned during the entire stroll to the bus stop to put that money in, it was probably the highlight of my outing (ah, to be one again), and I probably thought my moment had arrived when my Mother placed her first step on the bus, and then to be robbed of it, so unexpectedly and suddenly - that is exactly how I felt with the dealer. And even this morning, after reasoning that at least I didn't LOSE money, I still cannot believe it and I don't want to see another roulette table any time soon! But I'm in Vegas, so it is inevitable.
After trying to assuage my dissapointment, my fiance and I drive to Walgreens to pick up some toiletries, and who should be strolling up and down the aisles, but comedian George Wallace. My fiance and he strike up a conversation; turns out he knows one of our former castmates. And there I am, looking like a crack addict with my eyes bulging and red from crying. But then again, I'm in Vegas, probably nothing he hasn't seen before - well, maybe not from losing an imaginary bet. Welcome to Las Vegas.
That being said, on our way out, after examining the tables for any hint of a pattern, my fiance and I decide that a red number is bound to pop up next at a table flashing a chain of black numbers. The wheel is spinning and I'm in a zone, and for some reason, I decide that I am going to take a risk and part with $20 by placing it on Red 9, my favorite number. Call it an inkling, but I feel confident that it is going to come up, not just the color Red, but the actual number 9. My fiance tells me I should only place $10, but I don't have change, so I rush up to the dealer, my head peeking behind the crowd of anxious bettors, and ask him for ten dollars. He confirms and takes my $20 bill and gives me four chips. He sees me trying to figure out the value of the chips and he tells me they are $5 each. I then tell him I want to put ten on Red 9 and as I reach to do so, he tells me I have to wait for the next spin. I thought I was betting and that was why he changed my money, but, whatever, I'll have to wait. And then guess what number the spinning ball lands on...No, really guess...RED 9. Immediately, a surge of utter despair, mixed in with disbelief that my instinct was so dead-on, and a strong desire to shake the dealer within an inch of his life filled my entire being. And so, I did what any self-respecting, mature adult would do in that situation - I broke down in tears...IN the casino...like a baby. I couldn't believe that I was just shut out from winning $350 dollars right there, it was right there in front of me, I thought I was placing the bet, something told me my number was coming up. And the dealer wouldn't let me put the money down. Perhaps I took just a second too long trying to sort out the chips and place the bet, but I was just so confused, because I thought the dealer was with me when he changed the money, that it was implicit that I was changing money to put it on the table. So, I'm standing there in complete shock with $20 worth of chips, tears streaming down my cheeks (actually, no, I waited until I was a couple of feet away from the table to have my breakdown), and the dealer looks at me as if I am going to put my bet down NOW - because, YES, Red 9 is bound to come up next again (NOT). My fiance didn't realize how upset I was until I was repeatedly sobbing on the way to the car. My mother tells a story of how I had a complete breakdown on the bus when I was about one or two years old, because in her hurry to board the crowded bus, she didn't let me put the change in. And that is exactly how I felt last night - my one year old self came out in full force. I probably, as a toddler, planned during the entire stroll to the bus stop to put that money in, it was probably the highlight of my outing (ah, to be one again), and I probably thought my moment had arrived when my Mother placed her first step on the bus, and then to be robbed of it, so unexpectedly and suddenly - that is exactly how I felt with the dealer. And even this morning, after reasoning that at least I didn't LOSE money, I still cannot believe it and I don't want to see another roulette table any time soon! But I'm in Vegas, so it is inevitable.
After trying to assuage my dissapointment, my fiance and I drive to Walgreens to pick up some toiletries, and who should be strolling up and down the aisles, but comedian George Wallace. My fiance and he strike up a conversation; turns out he knows one of our former castmates. And there I am, looking like a crack addict with my eyes bulging and red from crying. But then again, I'm in Vegas, probably nothing he hasn't seen before - well, maybe not from losing an imaginary bet. Welcome to Las Vegas.
Comments
Perhaps it's best that you didn't win. I think once you've won a significant amount of money, the addictive nature of gambling kicks in and all you can think about is winning again. If you can avoid gambling, you'll save yourself a whole bunch of pain and heartache. Remember -- the odds are ALWAYS against you.
Your story about the crying fit you had as a child reminded me of an incident that happened in my childhood.
I was six years old when my parents took me to the boardwalk in Asbury Park, NJ. My mother had given me a quarter to spend and I held onto it for dear life. Lo and behold, I dropped the quarter and it fell between the slats of the wooden boards, never to be seen again. Well, I cried and cried as if I'd lost something much more valuable. I still remember feeling like I had lost my life savings (which, technically, it was at that age). Now I laugh at the memory.