Thursday, June 17, 2010

The Streak - 91

I'm looking around during a reshuffle.

"What's the theme here, ya think?"

"Theme?" Kyle responds, his eyes on the dealer's hands. "The theme is come in, sit down. Give us your money. Now get out."

The waitresses are dressed slutty. Black stockings and garters. The dealers wear bowties. Neon squiggles adorn the walls.

"They're all supposed to have themes. Ancient Rome. New York City. A whorehouse in the Wild West."

Kyle lifts his head and scans the room.

"I'm reminded of Tampa," he declares, and sets a stack of black chips on his spot.

We play awhile in silence. I lose, win, lose, lose, lose, win, lose, win, win, lose, win, win, lose, lose, lose. Push. Lose. Win. Lose. Lose. Lose.

I'm restless again. "I have an idea," I say.

"Go for it."

"Let's get up from this table. Exit the casino. Get into a taxicab and drive across the street. Enter another casino. Find a blackjack table. Sit down. Gamble."

"Wash, rinse and repeat."

"You don't like my idea."

"I got a drink comin'."

"You make 13.1 million dollars a year but you'll sit and wait like a dog for a free drink?"

"It's the principle."

"I got some principles of my own, man."

"You always want to leave. Wherever you are, you wanna go away."

I contemplate this for a second. Take another card. And then another.

"I just want to occupy a different space than the space I'm occupying now. Is that too much to ask?"

"What are you running away from?"

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