I Drank What?

Another random moment from Vegas:

The Bastard and I are playing craps, he at one side of the table, me at another. We're doing all right, and then a couple of former fratboys get on one side of me and some other guys put the squeeze on me from the right. They're both at the table, but only one of 'em's playing, and I'm finding my freedom of movement restricted. A cocktail waitress comes around and I order a gin and tonic.

A few minutes later, the waitress comes back around, and one of the fratboys has stolen my drink. She says she'll go back and get another, but meanwhile I'm losing, losing, losing. I step away from the table with two five dollar chips out of the hundred bucks I originally put down. And I'm fuming. No drink, no elbow room, no money.

"Sorry those douchebags left a bad taste in your mouth," says the Bastard while we wait for the waitress and my $90 G 'n' T.

I make a face. "Could you put that another way?" And then, trying to wrestle free of my mad-on, I borrow a buck to tip the waitress.

She comes back with my gin, I tip her, and she says, "Thank you so much." And suddenly I'm in a much better mood. Suddenly I feel like I can win again.

So the Bastard and I sidle up to our respective places, and I lay down another hundred bucks. The jerks to my right are replaced by an extremely superstitious guy who can do no wrong when he has the dice. And in the twenty minutes we have left before we have to meet our friends for dinner, I've made my money back, plus five dollars.

My name is Earl.

Rob