beating the house
They say you’ve got to stay up pretty late to beat the odds in a casino. But I didn’t make it back to my room until almost 5am…and I’m here to tell you, that ain’t nearly late enough!
Ok…so it wasn’t my idea to burn the midnight oil at a Craps table, where I easily drank half my body weight in diet coke and orange juice, then had to make a mad dash to the ladies room at 2 am while my sister held my place at the table. No, not my idea. It was my sister’s brilliant plan to beat the house. After spending more hours at the craps table than it takes a normal person to birth a baby…in fact, longer than it took ME to birth a baby (and that took forever!) we discovered it takes more than a brilliant plan. And probably more than luck…or money. She’s pretty sure the place is rigged.
We had more ups and downs while playing than the planes in an aerial show. One minute I had a hundred dollars, the next I had thirty five, then I was back up to ninety. I was lucky to walk away with enough to buy a damn donut on the way back to our room. I doubt I’ll be able to eat lunch before we leave tomorrow…I mean, today. And I don’t think I’ll be visiting a casino again any time soon. I probably had better odds of running into a hungry vampire while I was here than winning big. But at least I’ll have the memories of my mom calling us at 4 am asking us where the hell we were when she discovered we’d never come back to the room. The other players got a kick out of that. It’s not every day your mother interrupts your winning streak to tell you it’s past your bedtime.
Until the next time…I’ll be getting what sleep I can before check out time!