Every year for my birthday I blow off work for a day and drive down to Atlantic City alone to shoot craps. I always pick a weekday for this blessed annual event because on the weekend the city fills up with fancypants people who are only interested in drinking, going to clubs to chase tail, eating in the better restaurants and make a show of themselves with their expensive, tacky wardrobes. If you go during the weekday, you are more likely to rub elbows with degenerates, professional gamblers, the broken and the destitute. In other words, my people. There is also a heaping helping of senior citizens. The corridors are choked with wheelchairs, walkers, canes and oxygen tanks being towed on little hand carts.
I arrived early yesterday morning and had my customary 10:00 a.m. bloody mary to get my groove on. I had to spend a little time on the boardwalk airing out because my customary bloody mary was unusually powerful and I got a little loopier than I like to be when I’m bellied up to a crap table.
I. Love. Craps. Shooting craps seems like a terrible waste of time until the money starts to pour in. Then, I can assure you, it’s a brilliant way to spend an afternoon. I give it my highest recommendation. Blackjack is boring. Roulette is dignified but a bit too quiet. Slots are for old ladies and lazy people. Bill Bennett, conservative author of The Book of Virtues was found to have a gambling problem. At the same time he was telling everyone how to live a moral and virtuous life, he lost an estimated $8 million in casinos. Do you want to know how he lost that money? Slots! What a little girl! I could almost forgive him if he had done the hard work and lost it at the racetrack or a crap table or a baccarat table, but he poured all that money into slot machines. I’ll bet he was wearing a frilly dress and a bow in his hair at the time.
For lunch I ate at the coffee shop. Casino coffee + casino eggs and sausage = nature’s laxative. And that’s all I’m going to say about that.