As usual, I’m in love with something. I love the idea of gambling, but I profess that it doesn’t love me back. Not that I don’t win on occasion. I do. But I know the deck is stacked against me literally. Casinos aren’t charities – they are in it to make money – my money.
I liken gambling to fishing. You get a fish on the line with some really juicy bait. They take a nibble or two and you let them. Just when they think they’re going to hit it big and get the rest of the worm, you tug on the line, set the hook and before long they are in the boat, ready for supper.
Casinos are no different. Again, I don’t have any problem with that. Long ago I decided that it was entertainment, nothing more and nothing less. When in Vegas, I could choose to shell out a couple hundred bucks for a show or drop it that same evening at the slots. Either way it is entertainment.
Well, it’s supposed to be. You see, gaming can’t really hold my attention. Sure, I get all excited by the blinking lights and the sounds coming from the one armed bandits, which are now largely armless.
Initially, I even get into the betting. But eventually, my attention starts to wane as does my budget. I see all my money being flushed away a credit at a time. I begin to see the slot machine not as a potential ATM, but as a toilet. I might as well just put a larger handle on my own toilet and throw quarters into it. It would be just as fun and the result would be the same.
Now, you’d think that a guy like me, who has run a business for 18 bloody years and is indeed a gambler (or whore) rather than a settler, would love to take a turn at gambling in a casino. Like I said, I am in love with the idea. I love slot machines. At least for the first half hour after which I am ready to pretty much kill myself, largely out of shear boredom. I have no idea how anyone can sit at a chair and play the slots or cards. It is visually stimulating, true, but mentally, at least for me, it is a pit of despair.
This is why I don’t gamble… well, at least at casinos. I don’t play bingo either, largely because I think all the numbers and letters should be in numerical and alphabetical order. Yes, my writer brain says we should be playing bgino. I know that this nonsense, since marketing it would next to impossible. But I do think it would be much easier to win in bgino, since I could then keep track of the numbers and which column they fit in. I can’t even imagine playing bgino with more than one bgino card at a time. The last time I played was in Madeira Pass. Someone made me take a card and a dobber at the VFW. Five numbers into the game I yelled YAHTZEE! No one thought I was very funny. Gamblers, it seems, takes this whole money down the toilet thing pretty seriously.
This is not to say I don’t lay it all on the line now and again. I love going to the horse races. It’s probably the only thing Psycho ever did for me. She introduced me to horse racing, largely because she was both a gambling addict and a drunk. The horse track was the perfect place for her, well, at least after I shoed her.
This was back when Longacres was still here. I still prefer it to Emerald Downs. But it’s a lot harder to place a bet there now that Boeing has plunked down a building or two on the final stretch.
Horse racing is the perfect sport for me. First, for less than $30 I get an entire day of entertainment – $7 to get into the track, seven “Win” tickets, a dog and a beer. Six hours of entertainment for what I would spend in 15 minutes in a casino. Plus I get to smell horse poop, people watch and maybe even win a race now and then.
I liken horse racing to lining up 10 slot machines. The main difference is that you think you can guess which slot machine is most likely to win at any particular moment and lay your money down to it to Win. Yes, Win. I never bet Place or Show. Why? It’s just $2.
Especially when it was Captain Condo. He entered something like 70 races in his lifetime. He won almost half of them. He was in the money two thirds of the time. He was a fun horse to bet on as he knew when he won and lost. When he won, he pranced around all happy. When he lost, his ears would drop and he would throw a bit of a temper tantrum right there on the track.
Slot machines and dealers, don’t really get happy or sad. They just take your money.
Of course, Captain Condo also fit perfectly into my strategy. He was gray. Yes, I bet on all gray horses and any horse from a stable with pirates on their silks. Plus any horse with a nautical name. I know, pretty scientific, huh?
This is because the very first horse I bet on at Bay Meadows down San Mateo way was a gray horse with a pirate name. I won $26 on a $2 bet. I think it’s the most I’ve ever won on a single race, so I figure it’s about as good as any other strategy I could come up with outside of betting on any horse that pooped just before being led to the gate. Yes, that really is a strategy, too.
I do have a strategy for playing the slots too. Here’s what I do. I put my money in the slot. I push the button. And I lose.
If only slot machined pooped.
In the Emerald City, putting my money on the gray pirate horse,
– Robb