So, while on vacation the hubby and I hit a local casino or two before enjoying a free room for the night (ooh la la). After the first ten minutes I could already tell the gambling angels were not aware they were supposed to be on duty. Blatantly obvious. Still, I gave it the college try.
After an hour or two I needed to find something else to do so I visited the restroom, trying to figure estimates. How much is thirty dollars worth toilet paper, pump soap and paper towels?
I then proceeded to walk around and people watch. Most are completely captivated by the cartoon boxes in front of them to care. Some do their voodoo without a second thought of being seen as a nut job. They are the ones rubbing the machine, passing their hands over the whole monitor and willing the numbers to stop by using the bear claw method of attacking the screen with their fingers (it doesn't work). These are the same folks who have a dozen tchotchkes at the Bingo table and more lucky quirks than a major league pitcher during the World Series.
Walking the perimeter of the no smoking section takes no time at all because the space allotted for clean air is akin to reservation acreage compared to the white man's fair 'share'. I can say this because I am a non smoker, have Indian blood in my veins, and can pass quite easily as a non-native with all the blending my ancestors experimented with. I'm sorry to be offensive at all, but I hate the smoking section more than anything. It occurred to me as I was power walking through the hazy hallways of stale and fresh cancer-inducing addictive chemicals I might want to let one or two go. What do I mean by that? Fart, beep, pass gas, toot, whatever name floats your boat. Hey, if the air is polluted and I must breath in what I don't enjoy in a public area, I think I'm entitled to add my own offensive smells. Yes, this sounded like a good idea, especially since the traffic was heavy and the area filled with bells, sirens and the fake sound of coins to drown out the instigator. I didn't have the guts. I'm sure it's only a matter of time, though.
Finally I decided to change my points of accumulation on my membership card into money. Why hadn’t I thought of it before? This brought me to a very tasty sweets shop where my eyes eagerly ingested every tart, cannoli and fudge item in the large glass cases. I bought a cookie bigger than my child's head and ate it with a smile on my face. My moment of peace came at last. Of course, I was also thinking of how I could use another thirty dollars worth of water the next morning with my shower. By the way, does anyone know how many cups of coffee and bagels from the free continental buffet would equate to a fifty?