Background: We are not gamblers, and we are not really vacation takers; our friends had an extra free room voucher, and there was free parking, free drinks when you gamble, and gorgeous heated pools and jacuzzis (also free to guests). How could we say no?? The bathroom in our room alone was as big as my bedroom, and there was much gorgeousness to be experienced. So, while was lost a grand total of $29.09 on various bettings, there is no way on earth we would have been able to obtain even the drinks--even a handful of our drinks--in any similar place for that much, let alone a gorgeous room, more drinks than was probably advisable, disco dancing, and fireside and ocean themed bars and glass flowery chandeliers. Plus, we got to take a little road trip, see our friends, people watch, and look at All The Sparkly Lights. I even got to swim for a little while, something for which I have been exceedingly desperate for many, many, many, many months. Many. Srsly.
Played: penny slots, $5 blackjack and roulette. One $0.25 slot that still had a crank arm.
Watched: Penguins vs. Capitals, the Kentucky Derby (cried), Hatton vs. Pacquiao (cried), and the last 20 minutes of the stock car race.
Dodged: hundreds of strangely vaguely menacing but supposedly good-time-guy freemasons moving en masse, a very sweet flirt, and my own dog impulse to feel up all the cocktail waitresses.
I am both more and less sensitive to smoke than I realized.
I enjoy random winning way too much, and am easily delighted by flashing screens and sound effects.
I am a kinda' sore loser, when there's not a human I'm losing to. I am generally not at all sore when there are humans involved.
I want to play more cards.
Boxing is essentially tragic and really probably not for me.
Craps is fun to watch.
Gamblers (in Reno, this weekend, at least) are not as visibly superstitious as I would have guessed.
Probability is still just as fun as when I was taking AP Stats in high school, and I am way too happy to get my geek on about it.
I compulsively count changes in amounts of money and keep running tallies. I do not count cards, except for in pinochle.
I still don't get Nascar.
Underdog stories--even if the underdogs are actually horses--make me absurdly happy.
Anything shiny, neon, or sparkly makes me very happy--I am, essentially, a crow.
Going without seeing the sunshine for 3 days wreaks havoc on my brain chemistry, and makes me very unhappy.
It is hard to be menacing in something as goofy as a jester hat, but if you manage it, you graduate up to Really Scary.
Cow bell is always a good move in music, and usually sexy. I need a cow bell.
You will not get carded until you ask for a Shirley Temple.
Even if they are flighty carders, casino cocktail servers are freaking hot.
Now, my nose and eyes are settling down, the smoke is almost out of my laundry, and my kitties are approaching almost-recovered-from-petting-deficiency. I think I'm going let my brain melt a little. LOVE.