decided I had waited long enough and made my way back. I walked down the Blackjack aisle looking for small cards. Before I had a chance to sit, the same pit boss came over and welcomed me back with a handshake. I said, “Remember the last time I was here, a few months ago?” He replied in the affirmative. “I had scarlet fever.” His entire demeanor changed and he drew back a half step. It was as if I had said I had bubonic plague. He mumbled something polite and disappeared. He didn’t get anywhere near my table the rest of the trip, and I played with little cover. I had discovered a new method of camouflage. Not that I could ever use it again.

And that is the end of the story.

Atlantic City

Trip #1

I still lived in Philly when Atlantic City opened. Finally, casinos in the neighborhood. Atlantic City, once a grand old lady, at that time looked like a cross between the surface of the moon, a Mad Max apocalyptic movie and Berlin after WWII.

A.C. is actually easier to get to from Philly than from most of New Jersey. The Atlantic City Expressway travels in a straight line between the two cities, had almost no exits, since there was nothing but pine trees along most of the route at that time, and the speed limit was 70. I figured I would wait a couple weeks for the initial crowds to die down before hitting the new playground. I swore I’d wait a couple weeks.

Yeah, right. Opening day I found myself in this long, long, long line in front of Resorts. It was one of those lines like those for a Disneyland ride. You finally reach the end of the line and enter the building, only to find that the line keeps going. You finally reach a new end to find it just turns a corner and continues down yet another hallway. Once you finally entered the casino, the tables were so crowded you could barely see them. Well, I only had myself to blame. I played very little and don’t even remember whether I won or lost. I have talked to several people years later only to discover that they too were there that day. I wonder how many I ran into.

 © 2009 Norman Wattenberger