Never take more money to a casino than you are willing to leave there!
I have a very low tolerance level for losing money, even in the name of good, clean American fun, and I limit my gambling expenses to $40.00. That’s not a lot of money in Las Vegas, I know, but that’s as much of my money as I’m prepared to let Vegas have!
Hi, everyone! I’m back from my first vacation since I fell off the good health wagon in 2003 and just let me say, “It was fabulous!” Not only did I get to see my wonderful Grandmother, I also got to bring home over $500.00 of Las Vegas’ money. You just have to be happy when THAT happens! What makes skeddaling home with a giant wad of twenties especially happy-making is (1) no taxes and (2) it only took 15¢.
I some how (and I’ll never be sure exactly how) made my killing on a “Wheel of Fortune” penny slot machine. Slot machines have come a long way since I was a kid stopping off in Vegas with my family every time we drove from California to Utah to visit my grandparents. Not only are they slick and high tech, employing flat-bed screens with touch capability, but they’ve incorporated more gamer participation beyond the mere selection of cards in a game of poker or blackjack. There are a whole slew of machines based on TV games shows, including “Deal or No Deal,” and some really original linked-machine games like “eBay,” where I scored a cool $185.00 (and which I managed to piddle away on less generous games).
As fun as the new machines were, though, the most popular game at the MGM Grand, where we stayed and mostly played, was an old-fashioned, mechanical horse racing game that still ate real quarters. All the other games used Player Club key cards and ticket vouchers, paper cash or house chips. I have to say, the sound of 400 dirty quarters feeding into the metal payout tray has yet to be electronically duplicated to my satisfaction, and they’ll never be able to duplicate the sheer weight of a plastic cup filled with that much coinage! Plus, there’s something to be said about twelve adults standing around a miniature race track yelling at five tiny horses on pogo-sticks being ridden by five tiny jockeys. Nowhere else have I ever heard, “Whatsamatta No. 5?! Ya horse break a leg? Get in dere and run, ya horses arse!!” I never laughed so much, all the while betting on a close favorite, maybe paying 6:1 or 15:1, and (of course) the long shot at a quarter a pop. And I did win 400 quarters betting on the 3 and 4 horses (and their tiny jockeys) to win and place at odds of 200:2. Considering I started out with only 12 quarters, is it any wonder Joey (who married my widowed step-mother while we were in Vegas, making him my step-step-father(?) and who loves to gamble–why else would one get married in Vegas?) kept repeating, “Dang, I married the wrong girl!” However, in all fairness, I did give that $100.00 back to Vegas before I left, as well as my other $180.00 win. Since I was the only one to leave Vegas with more (and more than twice as as much) money as I brought with me, I owe a debt of gratitude to the Goddess Tabliope, the Greek goddess of gambling, and will be making an offering of thanks to her today.
Of my visit with my Grandmother, I will post at a later date.
Of my visit with the nephrologist regarding my pre-diagnosis of kidney damage, I was five (!) minutes late arriving at his office this morning because (1) I was having an HAE attack, this being day 3 of my new Cinryze schedule, and (2) I couldn’t find the directions to his office, which I wrote down before I left on my trip, nor could I even find the phone number. My punishment for being late (and WTF is that about? they can be 45 minutes to an hour late and there’s no problem – for them!) was that I had to come back tomorrow (a nice-sized jaunt), but I just got a phone call informing me my appointment has now been rescheduled for next Tuesday, June 2nd. This means another week of substandard Cinryze treatment (and possibly being stuck with a nephrologist who doesn’t really want to treat me–after all, in his own words, I’m “not just a regular diabetic,” meaning my case isn’t easy–and I know how doctor’s hate things [yep, that would be me, the “thing”] that aren’t easy) and I am so willing to bet (about $500.00!) that all he is going to do next week is order a bunch of tests (that should take up a whole five minutes)–which will take another week or more to complete–before he can say anything of consequence or that will take the whole one hour of time he claims I ruined by being late. Yes, I really don’t like doctors, I don’t have respect for most of them, and I really do think they are little power hungry and money grubbing shits. Talk to me on a good day (say, in about 3 months when this crap gets laid to rest; i.e., that Cinryze is crudding up my kidneys) and maybe I’ll say something nice (or at least nicer). Today, however, the f-word expresses exactly how I feel I’ve been treated (but I’m trying to keep this blog from becoming X-rated–and besides, I’m supposed to be a lady–plllttthh!!).
Tabliope may be on my side, but Athena and Asclepius, the Greek Goddess and God (respectively) of medicine and healing, are really jerking me around. I can see I need to make an offering to them that is substantially larger than the one to Tabliope! Any volunteers out there willing to be my human sacrafice? (Just kidding–sorta. I need a really big offering!)