This break turned out a lot different than I had expected. I thought Jersey would suck; I actually had fun. I thought I'd make more posts; I made one. I thought I would not work; Ended up working around 40 hours a week. I thought I would make progress on my design project; I did not. So all in all, what could possibly be my last real vacation was kinda fun.
Immediately after finals, went home to jersey. Even though I hate jersey, I love going home. Especially after finals when I'm tired, miserable, and seriously sleep-deprived. My family is pretty understanding about it, so atleast for the first few days I don't have to do much around the house. Just eat good food, drink good wine, and sleep all day. This was relaxing for a few days, but I needed some excitement.
So a couple days after Xmas, I rounded up some family friends and went to Harrah's in Atlantic City. We left pretty late and got there around 12 at night so it wasn't too crowded. Mostly just old people and career gamblers. Since this was my first time in a casino, it took a little while to orient myself to the different shit going on. I have a general hatred for traditional casino games where the odds are rigged against you..blackjack, craps, roulette, and slot machines. Fucking slot machines! Do people realize they're just burning money with those. Atleast with the other games, you have a sense of what your odds are. Slots are a complete fucking crapshoot.
I wanted to play poker, but since the guys I was with didn't know how to play I decided to find something else. Also, since it was pretty late I think they had stopped their sit-n-go tourneys. And I wasn't about to throw down 300 bucks at a cash game. especially not my first time in a casino.
So we walked around and I sat down at the lowest stakes blackjack table. Even though the min bet was only $15, the other guys at the table seemed to be loaded sharks. Everyone bets like $100, $300 etc and I put down my $15. Everyone looks at me like an idiot. Fuck you pal, maybe you should move to a higher table. Cards are dealt. I am nervous. I don't even remember what I had. I remember hitting but I think based on what the dealer was showing, I must've made the wrong move because the high rolling Asian next to me "tsks". I shoot him a dirty look. He seems unfazed. I lose the hand. I'm done with this table. Nothing felt right: I was nervous, there are high rollers at this minimum bet table tsk-ing me. So I get up and leave. We go to the bar for drinks. I get a rum and coke. It's a good one and it makes me feel real good. So we head back out. This time I ask where all the low stakes blackjack tables are and realize that there is another set of tables in another corner. So we head there. Min bet again is $15. I find a table with just a fat guy playing. Perfect.
This time I feel a lot more confident. I sit down with a $100. My friend sits down next to me as well. I win a few hands. My friend isn't having the same luck, so he cashes out what he's got left and they just watch. I'm extremely superstitious in these situations, so not wanting to jinx my luck, I don't look at him or say anything. I win a few more hands. I raise my bets. I lose a few here and there, but overall I'm doing really good. I was playing well but I have to admit, I was also getting pretty lucky on a few hands. I'm sitting in front of the fat guy, so my calls affect him a lot. He starts winning as well and he loves me. He starts talking.
FG: "Man, you're doin great"
Me: "Thanks"
"Play a lot?"
"First time"
He keeps talking.
"Me.. I'm from Connecticut"
"Oh. Long way. Aren't there a few casinos near you?"
"Yea, yea. But I don't like 'em. Vegas is my favorite, but I don't get to go out there that often. So instead I come here."
I hate talking when I'm having a good run, so I try to keep the conversation to a minimum. I think he gets the hint, but he keeps throwing in bits and pieces every once in a while. He sounds like a career gambler. He tells me that he already lost a grand, and is on his second one. I tell him I'm sorry. He laughs and says, "No worries. I'll make it back".
My luck holds up. Not so for him. He busts his second grand and plunks down another. This guy is already in for $3000; I'm sitting there with a stack that I grew from $100. As he lays down the $100 bills for the dealer to change, I want to kick him in the balls and call him a "degenerate fucking gambler" but I don't because I'm not Tony Soprano.
After sitting at this table for an hour and half or so, I start to level off. I'm not losing big, but I'm not winning much either. Plus, I need another drink. So I cash out: $475. Sick! The guy is sad to see me go because he thinks I'm lucky for him. I suppress the urge to remind him of the 2 grand. My friends are excited. They tell me that drinks are in order. I'm happy to oblige. We head to the bar and I feel like a pimp, so I get myself a Black Label. (I used to hate scotch, but after I turned 21, I have been offered it at family gatherings and it has grown on me.)
After a few more drinks, I want to go back out and play some more. Mind you, it is around 3 a.m. I have a decent buzz goin and I'm a lot more relaxed. So we head back to the same table. Fat guy is still there. But new to the table are two middle-aged women. One is pretty, the other is her fugly friend. There are 5 seats to each table. The fat guy is still on the 4th, I was on the 2nd, the bitches are on 1 and 3. I want my old seat but that would be awkward considering no. 5 is empty. No.5 is on the edge, it's the last position so there's added pressure when I hit or stay and I have to lean forward to see the dealer's cards. Overall it's not a good situation. I don't want to disturb the peace of the seating and I'm too much of a bad ass to walk away, so I sit down on 5 next to the fat guy. Fat guy is spilling over on his stool, so this pushes me farther to the edge. Not good. He's happy to see me back. I don't ask and he doesn't say how much he's in for now, but I can see a dwindled stack. Degenerate fucking gambler. I don't want to risk all my winnings, so I again play with a 100. This time I lose it in about 20 minutes. The odds finally caught up with me. The bitches won a little I think. Not enough to justify the eternity they spent on each call, and the retarded celebration/sadness that was put on display after each win/loss. Just not a good environment and I'm done playing so I cash out with the $10 that I couldn't bet anymore.
We're all hungry and get some food at the expensive restaurant. By now it's around half past 4, so we play some stupid games to get rid of the change chips and leave. I offer to drive back since the others have normal jobs and didn't sleep till the afternoon like I did. It's a long drive and they both pass out. I drop em off, pick up my car and drive home. It's past 7 when I get home and I pass out. Glad I finally got the casino crave out of my system; didn't hurt that I won some money.
