My buddy Hank and I embarked on our road trip this past Monday.  Portland and Seattle are the two major cities we’re hitting, but we plan on checking out the obscure, random towns along the way.  I want to experience Americana. 

The first night we decided to stop at Redding, California.  There were Indian Casinos along the way but we resisted the urge.  As we were getting ready to choose a motel, however – checking out the billboards, seeing who offered the best deal – we couldn’t help but notice the casino ads. 

Blackjacks and buffets and cash, oh my!

We decided to stop at the next casino.  We were going to win enough to cover our night’s stay AND a fabulous steak and lobster dinner for two.  With wine.  Either that, or we were going to play so long on the tables that the casino couldn’t help but offer to put us up for the night.   This is called a “comp.”  I’ve always heard of people getting ”comped” and it’s about time it happened to Cassandra.

The casino was called Win River.  What an auspicious name!  Hank and I sat on two ends of a Blackjack table.  I got the first card, and he was the anchor.  Between the two of us we were going to take care of the entire table.  It was going to be open season on the house.  We felt that lucky.

We played ten hands.  I lost 8 of them.  Won one.  And pushed on the other.  That’s a 80% losing rate; 90% if you don’t count the push!  You figure a twenty is a winning hand — especially with the dealer showing a 6.  But NO!  The dealer had to hit 21!  This happened three times!  And the number of times the dealer dealt himself a Blackjack was just ridiculous.  I think double deck Blackjack with a machine shuffle is RIGGED!  I think the State Attorney General should launch an investigation. 

We were robbed!

Hank and I got up and left the table.  A mere 15 minutes after we first sat down.  Three nights of planned motel budget down the drain.  I felt cheated.  We didn’t even sit on the table long enough to get a free cocktail! 

This is why people start bar fights.

I was just itching for a grandma in her walker to bump into me so I can unleash my karate skills. 

I never win at the casinos.  I play all my hands right; I play them consistently; and, always, without fail, I find myself calculating how much I’ve lost at the end rather than how much I’ve won.  Why do some people have the gambler’s luck but not me? 

Why am I so unlucky?

I don’t ask for much gambler’s luck.  I don’t want to win the lottery, for example.  Hank plays the lottery and I always pray he doesn’t have the winning numbers.  I do this out of love and concern for his welfare.  Nothing good ever happens to people who win the lottery.  Just read the newspaper.  My theory is that you have a finite amount of good luck in this lifetime.  And winning the lottery (the odds are 130 million to one)  uses up *all* your good luck reserve in this lifetime.  Not just your luck but the luck of everyone around you.  That’s why when someone wins the lottery it’s not only their own life that spirals down into drugs and violence, but also everyone around them.  Their family and friends.  Their pets.  Everything that money touches. 

Please, Dear God, don’t let anyone I love win the lottery. 

Instead, let the haters in my life win. 

Let this surge of undeserved money exacerbate their superficiality.

And please, please, PLEASE let me have a front row seat to their self-destruction as they do more and more drugs in a futile attempt to fill the emptiness in their lives. 

Hank says I’m a pessimist.

Even so, I’d like to have a winning streak on the table.  If I have some extra luck left over, I’d like to give it to the Cal football team so they can win the rest of their games this season (and for USC and Oregon to each lose one more game). 

And I’d like to be lucky in love. 

Is that too much luck to ask for?

It’s such a miserable feeling to lose so much money so quickly.  Win River my ass#$)@(%&$*~!!!  It should be called LOSE River.  But Cassandra’s an optimist.  She keeps her chin up. Even though the cards are stacked against her, Cassandra is a living testimony to the triumph of the human spirit. 

I told Hank:

It’s OK.  Don’t feel bad.  I lose at the Casino tables because…

[Here, I wipe away a tear -- one tear, just one, for the misery of the past 15 minutes -- as I deliver the following line with unwavering conviction.  You may applaud if it moves you to.]

I’m a loser at the Casino tables

BECAUSE I’M A WINNER IN LIFE! 

Immediately, Hank starts snickering.  He says:

Cassandra, don’t you mean, you’re a loser at the tables,

and a winner at the Casino Buffet?

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Tags: life