Panic In the Casino

Let the record show that BirthdayPalooza was not a winning experience for Val or Hick. The Pony, however, raked it in. He emerged from two days of gambling with all but $13 of the casino bankroll he was given. Still not a win, but when you consider that he also got a new phone and a broken lava lamp, The Pony was rollin' in riches.

Hick came out smelling like a rose. Not so much a rose, as maybe a two-year-old car-wash Christmas tree air freshener. I gave him some household money, and wouldn't you know it, that's all he lost. None of his own riches accumulated from selling other people's junk.

I returned home with 5/6 of my casino bankroll intact. Maybe a little more, since I bought some winning scratchers from The Pony, and a bag of change. I send The Pony scratchers in his holiday care packages (Valentine's Day, this one), but he can't cash in Missouri winners in Oklahoma. So I buy them back from him, then cash them in myself.

Just for the sake of a picture, here's my new favorite game. I could only find it in one casino, that being Indigo Sky in Wyandotte, Oklahoma.

This was in the middle of a bonus, and if you look closely at the bottom right, it paid 600 x 12, which was $72.00. The final bonus amount is shown below. Not bad for a 60 cent bet!

As you can see by the CREDIT total, I was almost out of my original $20 bill when I hit that bonus. It was the morning we were leaving Indigo Sky to drive to Norman. And the last time I was ahead for the trip! The best I could tell, the name of this slot is: Jin Huangdi Long. Don't hold me to that. I never saw it in the other six Indian casinos we went to.

Not much rattles Val in a casino setting. I know there will be smokers letting their un-smoken cigarettes waft carcinogens across my face. Shameless seat-spreaders propping their feet on adjacent chairs, preventing play. Slot-jumpers darting in front of me as I reach for an in-demand game. Lurkers standing just a little too close as I cash out. Val wasn't born yesterday. She's pretty savvy in a slot setting.

I completely lost my mind on Friday night!

We agreed to meet up front at 8:00, to see if we were ready to go, or if we wanted to play a little longer. The Pony was a few minutes late in arriving, and Hick was a little testy (heh, heh, I said a LITTLE TESTY!). After some argumentation, it was agreed by The Pony and me that we'd leave at 9:00. I departed that confab a bit disgruntled. I veered down the nearest aisle to find a game and settle down. As I walked, I reached into the metal-latch-turny pocket on the outside of my gambling purse for my player's card.

IT WAS GONE!

Losing a player's card is no big deal. The promotions desk will issue you another one forthwith. In the event that someone else uses your card, they are only adding points to your account. They don't know the PIN to get into it for free play. I was shook up, because the last time I lost my player's card, it had my special lime green stretchy keyring attached. The one I'd used for about 20 years of teaching. I never got it back. I think I told that story, but if I didn't, all you have to do is ASK, and I'll gladly devote a post to it!

"Well, crap! I guess I left my card in the Buffalo Gold machine on the back aisle. That's the last thing I played before coming up front. I got up when time was running out, and then went to the ATM to break a big bill..."

I trekked all the way to the back aisle. A lady was playing the Buffalo slot I'd abandoned, but laying on the one next to it was my player's card! With my replacement lime green stretchy keyring still attached. Whew! It doesn't have any special significance to me, but I guess I'm still feeling the PTS from losing the original. I picked it up, and stepped to a perpendicular row of slots, and sat down to play a slot I'd never seen before.

That new game sucked. Sucked my money right into its bottomless gullet.

"Well, " I told myself. "At least I still have my ticket to cash out later. I'm not down all that much."

I reached into the zippered outside section of my over-the-shoulder gambling purse, to touch that ticket for reassurance. Every time I double the money I put in, or hit a bonus, I cash out. Then next time it happens, I run that saved ticket through the machine, and cash out again. So I'm building up a ticket that I won't fritter away, and cash it out when we leave the casino. If I keep a stack of tickets, I'm likely to play one back if I run out of the money I've allotted for that casino. I knew I wasn't as bad off as it seemed. So I attempted to sooth myself by looking at the ticket.

IT WAS GONE!

I felt everything in that purse section! Took the stuff out, and thumbed through it. GONE! No ticket for $220! NOOOOO!!!!! Where was my winnings ticket? I felt all around the main section of my purse. NO! Only my pouch of money-to-be-gambled-tomorrow. Other pouch of Puffs and insurance card. GermX. Lotion. Snap-thingy of assorted player's cards.

By this time, I was getting light-headed. Had I forgotten to pick up my ticket when I cashed out of the Buffalo Gold game? All the slots make an obnoxious beeping sound when a ticket prints out. An obnoxious voice repeats, "Don't forget your ticket!" Over and over. Even after you've plucked the ticket from the slot. I didn't remember having that ticket in my hand when I went to the ATM. I only had a large bill to make smaller.

"Well, crap! I'm so stupid! Now I've lost $220. CRAP!"

My hands were shaking. But there was nothing I could do about it. Nobody lays a ticket on the machine next to them. Not unless it's under a dollar. I might as well kiss that $220 goodbye. If only I could find it to bid farewell...

I DID! I FOUND IT!

I sat at that sucky slot, put my gambling purse on the ledge with the buttons, and took everything out of the main section. There it was! My $220 ticket! I must have slid it into the wrong section after cashing out of the Buffalo machine. Then was preoccupied with getting out my large bill before stepping up to the ATM.

Whew! That was a close one!

Hick had his own drama, on the way home Sunday, when we stopped at a small casino in Muskogee, for my free birthday play. I heard him hit a bonus, but I was also in a bonus, so I didn't turn to look over my shoulder at him. When I did, there was a guy standing by him. They were both wearing caps. Camouflage. I figured maybe they had something in common. Hick has a way of never meeting a stranger.

On the way out to Oklahoma, Hick struck up a conversation with a Florida man at the McDonald's in St. James, Missouri. He'd come along the same route as us for the last 80 miles, having been ONE ROAD OVER from where we live, selling his dad's farm that we drive by when the creeks are up.

Anyhoo... I later asked Hick about his hat buddy in the casino, and Hick said, "He asked me for money! Said he only needed a couple bucks for the birthday party, or something. I didn't listen to him. I just said, 'Nope. I'm not giving you anything.'"

Never a dull moment when Val and Hick hit the road for Oklahoma. Or a casino.