The First Atlantic City Trip
Experiencing casinos is almost a rite of passage for 21 year-olds, so two years ago C-Smoke, Big Easy and I took a trip to Atlantic City, New Jersey. After two poor excuses from them, I got stuck driving. That didn’t stop Big Easy from complaining about my music selection, but that’s neither here nor there.
We were supposed to leave at noon, but those two are worthless and we ended up leaving at 2:00. If you don’t believe they’re worthless, keep reading.
C-Smoke didn’t have any money with him, so he made us stop at his brother’s to borrow some. He expected $50, but only got $40. “You’re seriously going to Atlantic City with only $40?” I asked. “That’s not nearly enough.”
“Don’t worry about it; I’ll be rich in no time. And after I am, the hotel room and hookers are on me.”
“I brought $40, too,” Big Easy said, laughing. “And I can’t afford to lose it.”
“You morons better not complain when you’re broke after an hour.”
Big Easy told me to take a shortcut, which actually made us lose 30-45 minutes. It also put us in rush hour. After two short stops for food and to urinate in corn fields, we made it to the Tropicana around 9:00.
Those casinos are unbelievably huge. When we finally found the poker room we put our names on a list and waited 30 minutes for a no-limit Texas Hold ‘em table. Still far down on the list, Big Easy then suggested that we sit at a $1/$2 limit table, which had plenty of open seats. We had never played limit Hold ‘em. Not only did we not know the rules, we didn’t even know it existed. But we were so tired of waiting for a no-limit table that we gave it a shot.
It was a stupid decision. We quickly realized we had no chance at winning money, so we played extremely conservatively just to get a few free drinks from the well-endowed and barely dressed waitresses. When three spots opened, we left that game for a no-limit table hungry for money and glory. In order to even have a shot at competing, the two morons needed more starting money. I lent them $25 each.
It turns out our confidence was much more bountiful than our talent and luck. We were out of chips before we knew it. No chips meant they had no money, which meant no hotel and no prostitutes.
Just as I had suspected, C-Smoke and Big Easy wanted to drive back home after gambling for only four hours. Correction: they wanted me to drive back home. I declined and instead took a seat at a $25 minimum blackjack table. I would’ve preferred a $5 table, or $.05 table for that matter, because I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I got advice from the older woman sitting next to me, who coached me to instant success. I got up to $100, then $200, then $250. That’s when Big Easy foolishly thought his blackjack skills were on par with mine, and when I foolishly lent more him money. But without an older woman, my older woman, he had no chance. Several hands later I was up to $325 and Big Easy had lost $125 of my money.
When I dropped back down to $250 I decided to get out and go home. Exhausted, I focused as hard as I could on the road as C-Smoke and Big Easy slept. On several occasions, I actually fell asleep and was awoken by the rumble strips on the side of the road. Not wanting to die, I had C-Smoke take over driving duties at a Maryland rest stop.
I walked into my house at 7:00 AM. 10.5 hours of driving, 1.5 hours of walking and 5 hours of gambling. Big Easy still owes me $60 for this trip and another $40 for reasons I’d rather not say. If I was a bookie and had some legbreakers I might see that money, but since Big Easy is in debt to just about everyone he knows, I kind of doubt it.
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Postscript: I am totally joking about wanting to get prostitutes, or at least 95% joking. I wouldn’t be surprised if C-Smoke wasn’t joking at all.
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