Even Fools Get Lucky in Vegas

They congregate at the edge, milling about and uttering odd noises. They wait for a sign, not a leader to cross, as me they will not follow. No, it must be a sign. A green light? No. A walk signal! This is what they wait for.

Only when a little white man illuminates will they cross the street. Not even wildebeests are so slow. No, I’ve seen wildebeests, I’ve seen them migrate. I’ve seen the herd mentality close up, we only a giraffe can lead the herd across an opening. At least wildebeests, sans giraffe, will cross once there is a leader.

These folk are not wildebeests, nor city folk. They don’t trust their sight, try as I might, they must wait for a light. That little white man, (must he be white?) he is right.

1:42pm Pacific Time

Round and round that little ball goes and where it stops, no one knows.
Will it land for me, or will it land for she?
Do I get my thirty-one or will she win and I be done?
I ask you little ball, I ask you dealer, big and tall.

Spin, spin, bounce, bounce, with a flurry I do trounce.
Thank you little ball, you kept me from a mighty fall.
On my number so you did land, now many coin in my hand.
I like this game, I like to bet, I make money on roulette!

4:52pm Pacific Time

I have an ace and a six and a two, five, and jack of various suits are showing. I’ve been raised $4 and I only have $5 in chips left. Its a $2 minimum bet Texas Hold ’em poker table, so should I go all in or fold and live to play the next hand? What would you do?

I folded. The pot grows, the next card: a six. The pot grows yet again, and then, on the river, an ace. The pot grows as I wonder: would my now two pair win? Is someone running a three-of-a-kind? The pot grows, cards turn over.

A pair of fives. This pot, all those chips, my last real chance, won with a pair of fives! Oh where is my two pair? Where is my lady luck? Where is my courage?

Just a few minutes ago I was the king of this table, coming back not once, not twice, but thrice from nothing with an all-in, no reserve, going-for-broke bets. Thrice I double my small $25 investment. Thrice I take these high rollers, big-spenders at the $2/4 poker table for their money.

Yeah, that’s right, with a minimum $2 bet and maximum $4 raise, this is the money table for me. Here I can get wild, get crazy, and get stupid with just my lunch money. And stupid I’ve been a few times. Or at least lucky, as once, with one of those all-in bets, I had no clue if I’d won in the end or not.

No, I just watched the dealer count the chips, wondering if it was time for me to leave or cheer, with the best poker face ever: pure ignorance.