Percie, my secretary, is both nervous and ecstatic. She’s never been to a casino before. The casinos set up at fundraising galas don’t qualify as casino. This one here today is the real one, where you sink real big money in that goes in the pockets of the owners or the government officials. This casino has waitresses clad in skimpy clothing. This casino has cameras all over the ceiling and walls and security men rounding the floors periodically, like every ten minutes. This casino has security men checking patron’s ID’s and purses.
“Ma’am,” the burly looking security guard slightly bows his head upon recognizing me. I open my purse for him to inspect it, but he smiles and says, “It’s okay, ma’am. I know you.”
Percie clutches her shoulder bag close to her body, a skinny security guard motions for her to place it on the table for inspection. She looks at me. The first security guard tells him it’s okay, “She’s with Ma’am.” Percie turns her nose up at the skinny guy.
“Well, that was nice. Who are you,
Ma’am?” Percie says mockingly.
“I worked at the Front Desk before they had the casino. The secu’s know me,” I tell her.
“Oh, my God, there’s so many people!” she exclaims.
“Yes, and it’s only three o’clock in the afternoon.” I walk ahead of her and she follows me. I show her where the slot machines are.
“A dollar? Who comes here, millionaires?”
“Chinese, mostly, and businessmen,” I say eyeing a half empty Black Jack table.
“Are you going to play?”
“Of course, that’s why we came, isn’t it?”
“Well, I just wanted to see what a casino looks like.” Percie’s eyes follow a passing waitress with a large tray loaded with beer, wine and other drinks. “Wow, you’d think she’s going to bed with those clothes. Why didn’t she just take everything off.” I laugh.
“Pers,” I say as I fish out a $50 bill from my purse. “Here, sit and play this machine here.” She sits on the stool in front of the slot machine that has pictures of cherries and variations of the casino logo.
I show her how to work the slot machine, explaining how the winning, or losing, works. She puts in a token and presses the button for one token plays. On her tenth token, she wins a few more tokens which she immediately puts in her little bucket. She smiles. This goes on for a few minutes before she tells me, “Go, don’t watch me.”
I walk over to the Black Jack table where there are now only two patrons, all with less than a hundred dollar worth of chips and the dealer starting to deal a new set of cards. I sit on the centre stool, hand the dealer a $50 bill and he gives me ten pieces five-dollar chips. I place three of them as my bet. The patron on my left bets all his chips, the man on my right bets only some of his. The dealer deals the card. I get two aces and place them face up on the table. I split my bet and the man on my right place a bet on my one card. It wins black jack, the other got an eight of diamonds. I motion “stay”. When the dealer opens his cards he has 24. All bets win. The dealer deals again.
On the fifth deal, Percie sits beside me. The dealer asks her if she’s playing. She shakes her head and tells the dealer she’s with me. He looks about and seeing not many people around us, lets her stay.
“How much did you start with?” she asks.
“Fifty,” I answer without looking at her.
“And you have now, wait…" she counts my chips, "$350?”
“Yes, please be quiet.”
“Wow, you’re good.”
I get fourteen on this deal and scratch the surface with my fingers for him to give me another card. I get a five of spades. Percie watches intently as the dealer opens his cards. He has eighteen. He promptly gives me my winnings.
“Let’s go, Cynne. We’ve won already,” she says.
“Why,” I look at her briefly, “did you win in there?” I jerk my head to the direction of the slot machine.
“No,” she says. I know what she has done. She would’ve cashed in whatever token is left before I have left for the Black Jack table. “Can we go.”
“Okay,” I say, “one last bet.” I place all but one of my chips in front of me as the dealer prepares to deal again. Percie’s eyes widen in horror.
“Are you nuts? You’re already ahead and you’re betting all your money?”
I show her the remaining chip worth $50 and hand it to her. “Go cash it and wait for me at the door.”
She takes the chip, stands behind me and says, “I’ll wait for you.” She looks sad, sorry for me wasting the money that I didn't have in the first place.
The dealer waits for me to open my cards. They were an ace of spade and a Jack of Hearts. Black Jack. The dealer promptly gives me twice the equivalent of my bet. I get up as I gather my chips, all but for one which I push towards the dealer. He smiles and say “Thank you.” It was a $100 chip.
“Stay, you’re on a winning streak,” the man on my right says. “Lady luck’s going to get mad at you if you leave.”
“It’s just beginner’s luck,” I say. “I always quit when I’m ahead. ‘Tis the same with gambling.”
I hand Percie the chips and she merrily dashes away to cash them in.
I meet Percie at the door. She looks upset. “Do you know that you gave the dealer $100 for a tip?”
“So?”
“But that is just too much!” She says as she hands me my $850. I hand her $300 and very discreetly hand a $50 bill to the burly security guard at the door as we leave. He smiles and slightly bows his head.
“Who are you,” Percie says between her teeth. “Mrs. Santa Claus?”
“Pers, it’s not my money. I only invested $50 in that game. At least I got my money back. That money I gave away, and this with me, it's not mine.”
“I just think you are too generous.” She pouts. I chuckle.
I give the doorman $20 as he whistles at a cab for us. A woman, in her late thirties, seemingly nervous and upset, approaches us and talks to Percie.
“Ma’am, do you think I can hitch a ride with you to the bus stop?” The bus stop is about a ten-minute walk.
Percie looks at the woman from head to toe. “Why?” she asks.
“I just had a bad day. I lost all my money on the roulette and I don’t have money for taxi.”
“Well, that’s what you get for gambling,” Percie tells the woman. “I don’t know, ask her, she’s the boss.” She motions to me.
The woman looks at me, her eyes pleading. I see her earlobes bearing the marks of her earrings. Her wrist has a white line around it, where her watch would have been normally. Her left ring finger has the same mark. Only a simple band remains in one of the fingers in her right hand.
“Sure,” I say. I motion for the woman to sit beside the taxi driver.
Percie rolls her eyes and waves her arms in exasperation. "Why don't we just let her shoot us right here?"
Inside the cab, Percie tells the driver that the woman is getting off at the corner. I ask the woman where she lives and before she can answer, we reach the bus stop and Percie promptly tells the driver to stop. The woman scrambles to get off without thanking us. Percie rolls down her window and yells at her, "Thank you very much, ha?"
"Gheez, Pers, let go. The woman's already down on her luck."
She rolls her window up and laughs. "How ungrateful, couldn't even say a simple thank you."
"Ma'am," the driver says shaking his head. "That lady is a professional gambler. I give her a ride almost everyday. Some days my passenger wouldn't let me because they're afraid she's a hold-upper. But I know her, she's addicted to the casino."
