I went to Turning Stone Casino a few weeks ago and while Nathan sat winning hundreds of dollars, I spent my time breaking in new wedges and smoking a pack of abandoned Seneca unfiltereds I found next to the nickel slots. I felt guilty about stealing them, but my recent Twin Peaks obsession lured me into practicing, and in the process I burned through four or five cigarettes and $120.
(It was a sort of magical thinking – this new foray would bring me luck. But in the end, karma bit me in the ass. The original owner of that pack of cigarettes (and lighter) was cursing me with his/her bitterness over my act. So I stopped. Real thought process BTW).
Dizzy and nauseous, and somewhat high off nicotine (duly noted), I made my way through Western New York’s finest human specimens as they sat hunched over machines, glassy-eyed, zoning, fuming like furnaces. Card tables shook with anger and elation, a full range of emotions were displayed at every turn. The place was raucous. At the “bar” loud noises emitted from what I can only assume was a Tina Turner impersonator. And there I parked. There is only so much breaking in one can do in a night. Besides, my hand was curled around an imaginary vodka soda; that’s just embarassing.
This is where I met Lou. I broke the ice when Tina announced that it was his birthday in a few days, so HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! (shimmy, shake, etc.) I turned to him and said Oh, that’s exciting, how old are you? 79, honey. 79. He spoke in slow wheezes but every word had a smile etched in its sound. He spoke with pride and humor about his long life, his wife, his daughter (a multi-millionaire lawyer for L’Oreal Cosmetics). He and his wife go to the casino every Saturday night. I won’t fully get into what we talked about because I kind of want to keep it for me. But I’ll relate one story he told me:
His rich daughter was getting married on Italy’s Amalfi coast. As he was sitting on the beach gazing at the Mediterranean Sea, his other son-in-law kept pestering him to look at something. He turns his head and realizes it’s a group of young topless women sunning themselves. He turns to his son-in-law, slaps him on the back of the head and declares, “Why would I want to look at six frying eggs? Leave me alone, I’m looking at the MEDITERRANEAN.” Then he looks at me with an expression of peace and says, “Besides, my wife…IS the Mediterranean.”
And he meant it. And then he showed me a picture of the car he drives, a 1985 Pulse, which he keeps in his wallet. THAT IS THE CAR IN THE ABOVE PHOTO.
Lessons:
- I lost money but gained a little enlightenment.
- Don’t steal cigarettes when you want the world to reward you with cold hard cash.
- Don’t smoke five unfiltered tobacco sticks to your face.
- Don’t break in shoes over five hours in a place where the only seats are located under slot machines.
