Here we are, Part 3 of my amazing, romantic, tantalizing getaway weekend. If you missed parts 1 and 2 (and if you have, you need a spanking), go here and here to bring yourself up to date before reading on. Okay?
So, after our marvelous dinner at Le Chien Noir Bistro, Mr. Handsome says to me, all nonchalant-like, "So, like, do you want to maybe go to a casino?" and I'm like, "Well, I don't know," and he's like, "Well, you said you'd always wanted to go to a casino, and there's one not too far from here," and I was like, "How far is it?", and Mr. Handsome rolled his beautiful brown eyes and told me to shut up and walk. He's romantic like that.
So, we walked back to our B&B, got in our car, and drove for 20 minutes to this place, which is actually quite a sight in an amusement-park-like, Christmas-tree-like sort of way when you first lay eyes on it. Then, it's just an eyesore, but that's just my opinion. You're welcome.
Let me just preface this whole paragraph by saying that my overall reaction to the whole casino scene was not what I thought it would be. Nay, it was worse. Initially, my eyes were buggy from all the lights and perpetual sound of bells ringing. Well, I don't know if they were bells, but that's what all the slot machines sounded like.
On entering this place, I felt somewhat like what I imagine a movie star would feel. The place had this magical aura about it, with spotlights, and red carpet, a lush, gargantuan vestibule, and promises of the riches that were at your fingertips just beyond the doors. Within minutes of entering the place, however, my awe turned more to dismay and curiosity, as I tried to figure out what pulled all these people to sit at these machines and tables, alone, throwing in their coins and bills, staring at the numbers in front of them, for hours at a time. It started to bother me. A lot. Which surprised me, because I'm usually not one to judge others very quickly, and usually try to give people the benefit of the doubt. I try to figure out what makes a person tick.
But I could not understand what would make someone want to come here and sit for hours at a time, in the hopes of winning some money. It actually made me a little sad. Not that these people were here in desperation or anything. It actually seemed like the majority of them were having a great time. But really, when you think about it, what are they all there for if not in the hopes of winning a ton of money so that all their worries will magically go away?
Mr. Handsome wanted to play some poker, and he's a pretty good poker player, but there were only four tables open in the whole place, which made Mr. Handsome furrow his brow, because he is not one to wait patiently for anything. So, he put his name on the long list of names to play once someone left a table, and he suggested I go play the slot machines while he wait, and he tossed me some money, like a bone to a dog, in the hopes I would run off.
But I didn't want to. Mr. Handsome furrowed his brow some more and said he wanted me to have fun, and I told him I WAS having fun (and I was, watching people and still trying to figure out what the pull was to this place, a social examination of sorts, if you will). I think my NOT wanting to sit in front of a machine and push a button over and over again and watch as my money went to NeverNeverLand wasn't what Mr. Handsome had in mind when he planned on taking me here. He thought I would gasp in delight at all the fun lights, the shiny metal pieces, and the men in suits, and that I would quickly sit down at a table or machine and spend all the money we had. Give me a shopping mall and I'm there. But a casino? For some reason, no.
Anyway, Mr. Handsome quickly grew tired of waiting for a spot at a poker table because, as I said, he's not one to wait around, and his beloved (that would be me) was kind of just standing around, looking a little lost and maybe even concerned, so being the romantic and thoughtful guy that he is, he took me by the hand, and we went off to play a slot machine together to try and win thousands of dollars so that we could go live in the Turks and Caicos and swill mojitos all day long.
We ended up at a machine that had monkeys and bananas on it, and that looked like fun, so why not play it? we said to ourselves. Mr. Handsome threw in a $20, because we're chancy like that, and we started taking turns pushing the button that said "PUSH" on it. The numbers and symbols would flash before us, and although we had no idea what we were doing, sometimes we'd win some points, and other times we wouldn't. We never did really figure out how to play this game, which is how the casino works, I'm gathering. Or else, we're nowhere near as smart as we think we are.
We did this for only about five minutes before the machine went BOING! BOO! RING! RING! SPROING!! and these numbers flashed and apparently somehow we had just made about 1,543 points, which meant nothing to either one of us, but we were pretty sure it was a Good Thing (thank YOU Martha Stewart), so Mr. Handsome and I looked at each other, and as if we were psychically united, we simultaneously uttered, "I think it's time to go," and Mr. Handsome pushed the button that said "Cash Out" because it sounded like that's what we wanted to do, and apparently we made $10! In like five minutes, guys!
That monkey jungle banana machine is right awesome, yo.
And then we went back to our B&B, all the while enthusing about how unbelievably fortunate we had been at the slots, and how maybe we should make that our life's ambition: to play the monkey jungle banana machine until we are on breathing machines and fumbling for our walkers. And all the while, Mr. Handsome was most probably thinking about all the Sexy Time he was now going to get because we had won all this money, and now his beloved would be all happy and stuff.
Come back for Part 4 of our marvelous getaway, if you dare ...
Throwback to College – Graphic Design Then
1 month ago