Trip #2

On my next trip, I decided to take the bus. There was an express bus that made only one stop between the two cities. The casino was still crowded, but much more reasonable. This was just a day trip giving me about five hours to play. I managed to win a bit, not much, and decided to head back. I still had a little time to kill and stopped and watched a table on the way to the cashier. As I watched, the count started to climb. And climb. A seat freed up. I quickly grabbed it and sat next to a guy in a business suit. He looked very unhappy about a hippie sitting next to him. I bet four blacks and lost. I tossed a purple chip in the circle ($500 or about $2,000 in 2009 dollars accounting for inflation). The dealer called “Purple in action.” The businessman had won a Blackjack and had a bet of $37.50, which includes a pink chip. He didn’t know pink from purple, figured I was betting $2.50, and said “Yeah, two purple chips.” I received two aces. The businessman realized his error when I went into my pocket for five blacks. I split the aces and two tens appeared seemingly out of nowhere. The dealer was very fast. I needed them. She had a pair of tens. I lost a $400 hand, and then received 11 against a ten for another $500 bet. Another gut-wrenching hand. I doubled hoping not to see an ace. Dealer calls out, “Double for a thousand.” Again 21 against 20. As I heard people from another table asking, “did he get it? did he get it?” I was thinking to myself “shouldn’t it always work this way?” I played only a dozen hands and pocketed about $3,400.

Returning home, I realized my lack of planning. I was used to returning from casinos to an airport. The Philly bus station was in a terrible part of town, it was late at night, no taxis and pockets full of cash. I made it home okay, but knew I had to give these trips more thought in the future.

Trip #28

 I have no idea what trip number it really was; use #28 as an adjective. I eventually moved to New Jersey. However, on this day I was again in New York. It seems I have been gravitating to Manhattan for much of my life. I was in a club, long since gone, that was owned by the Colombo family. At the end of her shift,

 © 2009 Norman Wattenberger