Childhood Tales

Day: 339

It must have started as a small child. At the age of four or five my Grandmother took me on my first road trip alone with her across California, into Nevada, and finally into Utah to visit relatives whose houses always smelled awkward. This was my first trip to a casino (which of course had the cheapest rooms in our journey across Nevada) where I was introduced to gambling. Grandma though it was just good, clean fun to sneak me into casinos to watch slot wheels spin, the quarters fall, the flashing lights and see her eyes light up at the chance to win fortunes. Even when gambling laws prohibited anyone under 21 from entering a casino, for some reason Grandma didn’t think that applied to us and would habitually sneak me into the casino anytime one was near because she thought it would be proper excitement for me to pull the handle, watch those cherries spin and have the chance to be rich; at least to my eyes as a child. It was forbidden and I was nervous, knowing we would be caught and asked to leave, but even after being escorted out of gaming floors across Nevada she continued to force me to gamble with her. To tell the truth, I loved it.

This was our special time, just Grandma and me out there tearing it up on the road in her huge baby blue Monte Carlo, stopping every once in a while for some illicit gaming. I soon learned my roll to appear as small as possible, like I almost didn’t exist; yet I was a smart kid, and as soon as we were at those machines in the back corner, away from the security desk, in a time when cameras were not quite as prevalent, I would be given a handful of quarters and with an eye over my shoulder play at the machine next to her. Sometimes I won, most times I lost, and almost every time we were asked to leave. There was not a security guard in the state that could match my 68 year old Grandma’s at banter or sheer willpower at arguing; I mean, who would really want to arrest a an old woman and a 5 year old boy, I could just imagine the paperwork on that one.

So, while other kids got money to play pinball, I was taught to gamble and it stuck. The bright lights of Vegas always attract me and even though I know its not a wise way to spend my money, I still find myself with the dice in my hand at the craps table screaming the point number or praying for 21 at blackjack. Every trip (a mere 3 1/2 hours from my house) for the past 7years has got progressively more expensive. I drink more, I play more, I do more. I always have a good time and I usually go home wishing I hadn’t spent so much.

When Daniel and I realized we both had the week off, we decided to pile in the Hybrid, spend a night in Vegas and then head over to Death Valley for a few days of camping. I knew what I was in for. I knew I could lose fortunes here. I prepared. I planned. I locked my ATM card in the safe in the room and set out for the night with a mere $51.

I won, I lost, I drank too many beers, I threw dice, I played blackjack, I was up to $150, I was down to my last $10, and finally I had around $42 around 10:30pm. I was quite drunk and before leaving the room I informed Daniel this was all I had left for the night and we still had to eat. We made it downstairs to the bar in our hotel the Tropicana, I spent $7 on two beers for us. Then, he made a mistake of walking us past the craps table on our way out to the strip…

We had chicken sandwiches at Burger King for dinner and went to bed early, broke.