by Craig Birk
Chapter Twenty Three
The Casino Part II
3:05 a.m.
“I'm not only legitimate, but running a casino. And that's like selling people dreams for cash.”
– Ace Rothstein, Casino
Once the decision had been made to gamble, there seemed little reason to spend even a minute longer in the club. Gary and Roger took an unsuccessful lap looking for Mike, and Alex asked Yvonne to bring a check. Alex left the charge on his Platinum Amex, signing away $1,324 for the beverages consumed and service charge. There was a quick debate about the acceptability of leaving without finding Mike first, but everyone agreed he was a big boy and he should be able to find them easily in the casino. To ease his conscience, Alex sent a text to Mike’s mobile phone that read, “Craps. Hard rock. Join us. Btw, u r a little jizz mopper.”
Alex had hoped to apologize to the midget on the way out for his previous behavior, which he now sensed was somehow inappropriate, but the little guy was nowhere to be found. Because of the relative hassle entering the club, the exit was surprisingly immediate, and the three found themselves thrust back into the perimeter of the casino. Although music was playing, currently Living on a Prayer by Bon Jovi, it was decisively quieter outside of the club. Each of the three noticed a slight echoing sensation inside their heads, as if they were in a cave and a water pump was active somewhere in the distance. It was also a lot lighter. The small group gave themselves about thirty seconds to adjust before advancing further to find a suitable craps table. Gary, who somewhere in the last thirty minutes had crossed over the threshold from drunk to very drunk, failed to notice the one step down into the casino, lost his balance and fell to the floor, his head narrowly missing the side of a Wheel of Fortune slot machine. He popped himself back up and held a pose like Mary Lou Retton after her famous vault. Alex and Roger clapped for him. Then Roger jumped on his back and gave him a bear hug.
The population of the casino was notably thinner than earlier in the night, but there was still a good crowd, and the energy level remained high enough to motivate them. The Red Bull probably helped.
The first craps table they encountered looked appealing. It was about two-thirds full and seemed to have good energy as the participants were applauding the previous roll enthusiastically. Alex leaned in and noticed it was a $10 minimum table, which was good because he knew this was what Gary preferred to bet. Also, there was a space on the corner big enough for the three of them to squeeze in. Alex stepped toward the opening and had his wallet halfway out of his pants when he noticed another table on the other side of the pit. This one had only six players, two middle-aged Italian-looking men on one side and four girls who Alex remembered vaguely from the dance floor in the club on the other side. Both of the Italian guys were wearing white pants with white shoes and designer shirts complemented by gold watches and gold cross chains. Each of the girls wore high heels and short brightly colored dresses. One was slightly overweight, but all were highly attractive.
Alex instinctively veered right and began making his way toward the other table. Roger and Gary followed, none of them managing to walk in exactly a straight line. When they arrived, Alex saw it was a $25 minimum. He checked the chip racks on the table and noted with interest that each of the girls had well over a thousand dollars worth of chips in front of them. This was quite rare, especially as they appeared to be in their mid-twenties. He was intrigued.
Roger and Gary caught up. Alex immediately began selling the wisdom of playing at this table to Gary, expecting it to be difficult to persuade him to play for higher stakes. Perhaps because of the alcohol, it was not. Before Alex could really get started, Gary patted him on the shoulder, walked past him, and sidled up next to the girl at the end of the row. Gary removed his wallet from his pants and offered four hundred-dollar bills to the dealer to exchange for chips. Roger and Alex exchanged glances and shrugged their shoulders, a bemused grin on both of their faces. By the time they could join him at the table, Gary already had $25 on the pass line, had his arm around one of the girl’s shoulders, and had said something funny enough to get all of them laughing.
Alex moved to stand next to Gary, and Roger positioned himself next to Alex. Both took out $500 and bought twenty $25 chips. Unlike every other casino, which used green for the $25 chips, the Hard Rock used purple. Alex inspected his and noticed the one on top was a commemorative chip featuring Madonna. He put it in his pocket for good luck and placed the remaining chips in the rack in front of him. While doing so, Gary introduced his friends to the girls who all smiled and offered their names. From left to right, they were Gina, Kelly, Natasha and Berlin. Alex repeated the names several times in his mind, hoping to remember them for future use, then patted Gary on the back, remembering how good of a wingman he had been back in his single days. He was quite pleased to see his friend having so much fun.
During the introductions, one of the Italians rolled the dice and hit his point. The girls all raised their hands above their heads in appreciation and began clapping as the dealer paid out their bets as well as Gary’s. Gary moved behind them to offer each a high five, which the girls reciprocated while laughing.
Gary returned to his spot and placed another chip on the pass line. Each of the girls bet two chips, as did Alex and Roger. The Italian rolled again and everyone watched as the dice tumbled toward their side of the table. The dealer announced, “Eleven. Pay the line.”
The stickman collected the dice to slide back to the Italian and the other dealer paid out the pass line bets. Everyone placed the same bet.
Hoping to establish more of a connection with the girls, Alex decided this was an opportune time to tell his standard ice-breaking joke. He motioned for the girls to lean closer and began:
“So, there are two muffins in an oven . . .
One muffin turns to the other muffin and says, “Holy shit! It is hot in here!”
Then the other muffin turns to the first one and says, “Holy shit! . . . A talking muffin!”
The two closest girls, Natasha and Berlin, laughed loudly. Berlin reached across Gary and patted Alex on the shoulder to tell him how funny he was. The other two, Gina and Kelly, found the joke to be stupid and looked at each other, exchanging the universal female “whatever” face. Gary, who had heard this joke many times before, had a similar reaction.
The moment was broken with another role of the dice, this time a seven and another winner. This made everyone happy. Gary stepped back to again slap hands with the girls.
Alex, watching Gary go through his high-five routine again, was again overcome with a surge of happiness. Having already had a very fun night, he felt certain that it would only get better. In recent months, Alex had begun to feel increasing anxiety about getting older, but at that moment he felt he would live forever, and live well at that. Convinced that his yellow sweater represented the height of fashion, he felt not only healthy but extremely attractive. As Gary returned to offer him a high five Alex realized he was beginning to tear up from joy and was at risk of crying. This was not the impression he wanted to make on the girls and he turned away from the table, pretending to cough as soon as he slapped Gary’s hand.
The Italian hit one more point, and then crapped out. Each of the girls rolled with mediocre results. Alex managed to win $200 anyway because he had a superstition that you should always bet the most when the girl with the biggest tits at the table had the dice. It proved a successful strategy this time, as well-endowed Natasha hit two points, including a high-paying four.
Making things even better, by the time the dice got to Gary, the cocktail waitress returned with three glasses of Stolichnaya on ice for the boys and four cosmopolitans for the girls. Roger, a notorious over-tipper when he was winning, gave the waitress a purple chip and told her to return quickly.
Gary rolled a five to establish a point and everyone placed double odds behind their pass line bets. His next few rolls were meaningless and there was a lull in the convers
ation. “I wanna come!” Alex announced loudly, and he and Roger placed $25 come bets as well. The girls again had a split opinion on his humor and were content with their original bets, which Alex noticed had increased to $100 on the pass line with $200 odds.
Roger: “Where the fuck is Mike? I can’t believe he is missing this.”
Alex: “I don’t know. It is disturbing. I mean, how often do we all get out here together and he goes and gets all morose just because some broad is married. I mean, what the fuck?”
Gary: “Take it easy on the guy. He has been cool, he just gets bummed out sometimes. Anyway, maybe he will meet up with us soon. Perhaps he just had another emergency run to the toilette. Maybe you can trap him in the shitter again, or do it to some poor innocent woman again.”
Alex was concerned about how the girls would perceive Gary’s drunken comments, but they appeared to be ignoring the whole conversation and were focused on the dice. Gary rolled again, this time a meaningless three. Alex checked his phone to see if there was any response from Mike. Indeed, there was a new text. It read, “Okay. Have fun. Don’t w8 for me. C u at Palms.” Alex flipped his phone shut and put it back in his pocket.
Alex: “Nope, he is done for the night. It is sad. Kind of pisses me off also.”
Roger: “Relax, he will be with us all day and night tomorrow. Let’s have some fun and hit some numbers.”
Alex: “I guess so. I wonder if we pissed him off somehow. I can’t see how.”
Gary: “No, I was with him. He was just upset about the girl. He isn’t like you who just ramps everyone in sight and then doesn’t care if anything comes of it.”
Alex again checked the girls, hoping his chances were not thoroughly destroyed by Gary’s unfiltered lips, but they were still involved in their own conversation and not paying the least bit of attention until Gary picked up the dice again. When he did, he held them in his right hand and started performing a ridiculous dance to the music. Appropriately, the casino was now playing Wannabe by the Spice Girls.
Gary: “Check it out Alex, it’s your song. Give me a quick monkey-noise.”
Alex: “I don’t think so, dude.”
Gary: “Come on. Just do it. One time.”
Alex looked at Gary, who was dancing alone while holding the one hand with the dice above the table to keep the dealers happy, and he broke out in a smile. He reminded himself that he came to have a good time with his buddies and shouldn’t care what the girls thought. He put his hand on his head and began moving it back and forth like a pigeon, puckered his lips, then let out a loud, “Ooh-ooh, aah-aah!.”
With that, Gary threw the dice to the far end of the table where the Italians were watching, entirely unamused with the antics of the shooter and his friend. The dice settled under the Italians, a three and a two. “Five, front line winner,” the dealer announced.
With this, Alex did another “Ooh-ooh, aah-aah” and gave Gary a hug. Before turning to give Roger a high five, he glanced at the girls. To his satisfaction, all were smiling and two of them had a look in their eye that, despite his drunkenness, he understood well. Unfortunately, he could no longer remember any of their names. One of them might have been Moscow? But this wouldn’t matter anyway. The dealer decided to start paying them with black $100 chips instead of the purple ones, and he scooped up his winnings.
Gary rolled a seven on the come-out role but couldn’t hit his next point. Alex disappointed the group by making a six on his first roll and immediately crapping out. He apologized and then lit a cigarette to try and bring luck back to the table, another one of his stupid superstitions. It worked to some extent as Roger was able to hit two points before crapping out and the first Italian managed the same, including another four. The waitress returned with another round of Stolis. This time only two of the girls took new cosmos.
No matter how drunk he was, Alex had an uncanny ability to sum the value of a stack of casino chips very accurately and very quickly, earning him the nickname Rain Man some years ago. He scanned the racks and was pleased to see that he and Roger were now up over $700 and even Gary was up $525.
On the far side of the table, the Italians were conversing about something before the come out roll, and Alex noted that they increased their line bet to $500. Inspired, he and Roger increased theirs to $200. Gary, who already had a $50 bet placed, took a large pull of Stoli from his glass and added another six purple chips to his bet. The Italian rolled a nine.
Both of the Italians placed double odds, as did the girls. For some reason, Alex was intimidated by the nine and decided only to lay single odds. Gary, who historically rarely had more than $100 on the table, followed Alex’s lead. Roger placed the full double odds.
“Let’s get right back on that nine,” Roger exclaimed, nearly shouting.
Alex looked to his right and saw Gary had his arm around the closest girl again, a silly nervous grin on his face. Alex began fumbling for a new cigarette when he realized everyone was waiting for him. Confused, he looked around trying to figure out what was the problem. One of the girls pointed to the other end of the table at the Italians.
The man with the dice in his hand said to Alex in heavily accented English, “Za monkey. Do za monkey, per favor.”
Alex put the cigarettes back in his pocket and stepped back from the table. He put one fist down to the floor and wiggled his butt back and forth, emitting a loud “Ooohhh-oohh, aaahh-aaahh,” in the process. For good measure, he stood back up, placed a hand on top of his head and issued a few more monkey noises.
The Italian threw the dice. No one was the least bit surprised when another nine appeared. “Atta boy! Right back on that nine,” Roger exclaimed loudly. The girls were all high-fiving each other and two of them came over to give Alex a high five as well.
The Italians, in imitation of the girls, awkwardly gave each other a high five and one of them said to Alex, “Yes. The monkey. Bravo, Monkey-man! Very good American monkey!”
This proved enormously funny to the girls, and to Gary as well. Alex was unsure how to react, but remained in good spirits, especially when the dealer placed five black chips in front of him.
The second nine netted the Italians a $2,000 profit each. They conferred briefly with each other and decided to call it a night. Roger was miffed, considering it bad etiquette and bad luck to quit in the middle of a successful roll. He also did not appreciate the three-minute lull in the action which took place while the dealers counted up the Italians’ chips and cashed them out for one-inch-tall stacks of yellow chips and some change. Roger was further vexed by the Italians’ failure to leave any kind of tip for the dealers, but they happily scurried away from the table, lighting cigarettes and heading toward the cashier’s cage. It was now just past 4:30 am.
The dice were passed to the girls, who reduced their opening bets back down to $100 and again managed mediocre results. The table managed to break about even during their rolls, except for Roger and Alex who lost a few hundred dollars on hard way bets made for themselves, the shooters and the dealers.
Alex did a quick scan of everyone’s chips. He noted that Roger was up $950, he was up $1,100 and Gary was up $900. He did not know how much the girls had started with, but a summation of their chips showed they now each had over $3,500 in front of them.
Apparently the girls were also doing some mental accounting and were feeling content with their good fortune. Berlin told the guys that they were going to quit gambling for the night but hoped they would join them for a drink in the Center Bar, even offering to pay for the first round. Gary thought it was a good idea for two reasons. First, he was already beginning to understand that coming home with several hundred dollars in extra cash might help smooth things over with Blair. Second, he was having a very good time talking with the girls who seemed in tune with his sense of humor.
But neither Gary nor Berlin appreciated the impossibility of removing an intoxicated Alex and/or Roger from a dice table when they were doing well, at least not
before sunrise. Alex attempted to persuade the girls to stay for at least Gary’s roll by promising to do the monkey noise before every throw. The girls huddled quickly and decided even if they lost it would be worth the entertainment value alone to stick around for one more roll.
The stickman slid Gary the dice just as the cocktail waitress arrived with three more Stolis. Gary and Alex each exchanged a red $5 chip for theirs and Roger gave her another purple chip. Starting to feel the effects of the booze, Gary and Alex elected to switch the next order to grapefruit juice while Roger opted for a Bud Light. Alex used the opportunity to light another cigarette for good luck.
Gary’s first roll was a three, prompting a groan from the table and incurring a $100 loss for all of its participants. He followed it up with a twelve, yielding the same result. Two of the girls, Natasha and Gina, began to urge the others to quit now. Alex assured them the best rolls often started this way and increased his pass line bet to $200 to show his confidence. The girls agreed to one more try and Gary rolled a five to establish a point.
Alex again backed his $200 bet with single odds and the rest of the table, beginning to lack confidence, did the same. Alex and Roger immediately began making $50 come bets with double odds and in no time had the lower half of the board covered with money on the four, five and six. As promised, Alex was providing a jungle soundtrack with every roll. One of the dealers made a derogatory comment about it, but the remaining dealers were encouraging, perhaps influenced by the few hundred dollars Alex and Roger had already tipped.
Between “ooh-ooh-aah-aahs,” Gary proceeded to roll three tens in a row, a difficult feat which helped nobody. For Roger, it was painful to see the possible winnings left behind, and he placed a $50 ten for good measure.
The next roll was a four, netting Roger and Alex a quick $250, which they each immediately deposited back on $25 hard ways, including the six and eight for the dealers. Alex took the final drag of his Dunhill, then puffed up his cheeks and let out an enthusiastic “ooh-ooh-aah-aah.” Gary responded with double threes and the dealer called out the six the hard way. “Ohhh yeah. That makes me hard!” Roger exclaimed, while Alex put one fist to the ground and waved his butt around in two concentric circles. “OOHH, OOHH, AHHH, AHHH, OOH, AHH!” he exclaimed while careful to hold onto his now extinguished cigarette, another superstition.
The dealers collected the $500 dollars for their hard way bets and paid Alex and Roger $225 each for their hard way and returned $320 each for their come bets on the six. They each promptly gave back $100 for place bets on the six and $50 to get the dealers back on the hard six.
The girls, while amused at the goings on, still found themselves down $200 on the roll with $200 more at risk. This changed promptly as Gary hit a five on the next throw, inciting applause and a round of high fives all the way around the table. One of the girls even tried to produce a monkey noise, but it came out poorly. From there, they left the primate imitations to Alex who was now nearly constantly bobbing his head even when not making the sounds.
Once Gary hit his first point, things started to happen fast. Gary rolled back-to-back eights, including a hard way on the second one. Everyone on the table increased their pass line bet to $200.
Natasha: “Gary, you are awesome.”
Roger: “That’s our man, G-Balls.”
Natasha: “Sorry. My mistake. G-Balls, you are awesome.”
Roger: “Come on, shooter. You are rolling until the sun comes up.”
Alex: “Ooohhh, oohh, ahh, ahh, oooh, oooh.”
Dealer: “Dice are out, coming out.”
Stickman: “The role is eleven. Pay the front.”
Berlin (her arm around Gary’s waist): “We love you, G-Balls.”
Alex (head bobbing wildly): “Oooh, ooh, aah, aah!”
Gary’s next roll was an another eight, establishing a new point. After placing odds, Roger gave the dealer an extra $520 and told him to place five-twenty across, covering the table with bets. Alex did the same, switching his dead Dunhill from one hand to the other to do so.
The next rolls were: three, ten, ten, five, twelve, six, six and eight.
Once paid for his pass line bet, Alex paused from his monkey act to give Roger a quick glance which said without words, “Holy, shit, this is really good.” Roger acknowledged by raising his eyebrows and reaching around to pinch Alex on the ass. Alex rotated his gaze to Gina who was bending down to organize her winnings, revealing most of her well-shaped breasts. For a moment, his vision started to blur from the alcohol and he saw four of the beautifully shaped mounds, but he was able to snap himself out of it and refocus.
Kelly, who had been the quietest of the group, bounced over to Gary and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Gary was all smiles, but switched his game face back on for the come out roll. He hit a seven, costing Roger and Alex a few small come bets but making a winner out of everyone else.
Alex, who paused to brush some cigarette ash off the sleeve of his sweater, remained uncontrollably happy, both with the few grand in winnings at the casino and with the good fun he was having with two of his best old friends and four new friends. After a quick “oooh-ooh, aaah, aah” and an “aaah, aah, ooooh, ooh” for good measure, he put his arm around Roger and watched as Gary rolled another five for a new point.
Roger remained confident in the shooter, who had now been rolling for eighteen minutes. He began reaching into Alex’s rack of chips, a nearly full but disorganized array of white, red, purple, black and yellow. Heavily slurring, he said, “Gimme two yeeeelow ones.”
Alex: “Dude, get your grimy paws off of my chips.”
Roger: “Just gimme a grand. It’ll be good. We’ll split it.”
Alex reluctantly pulled out two yellow chips and handed them to Roger, curious to see what his intentions were. Roger handed them, along with two of his own, to the dealer and asked for a $1,000 nine and a $1,000 ten. Gary, not wanting to be left out, threw down two black chips and bought a $100 nine and a $100 ten. Even Natasha and Kelly decided to throw in an extra $200 each to join in. Alex pressed the six and eight another $120 each. Roger followed suit.
Gary, who still had over $1,500 in his rack, suddenly began to feel a bit nervous and he could feel his heart beating faster. His jitters were somewhat relieved when he looked to his left to see Alex in the three-point position, trying to use his ass to knock Gary closer to Berlin. Gary let himself fall into her lightly, then fired the dice. Again, the results were nearly immediate. His first roll was a nine, igniting a shout of jubilation, a round of hugs, and more ass-grabbing from Roger. Roger and Alex pressed their nine up by $500, spent $200 on new hard way bets and put the remaining $700 of the payout in a new rack of communal funds.
With the point still five, the next rolls were as follows: four, eight, eleven, two, four, ten, nine, four, ten, five.
The rowdy band of seven’s enthusiasm for hitting this last point was so great that the casino manager wandered over from the blackjack pits to see what was so exciting. She was an attractive woman of about forty years of age with short straight brown hair, wearing a black suit with the skirt cut just above her knees. Her name tag identified her as Roxanne. Upon arrival at the table, she crossed her arms and watched with a combination of amusement and annoyance as Alex jumped up and down “oooh-ooh, aaah-aahing” like a gorilla in heat. She quickly scanned the chip racks to see what kind of damage was being done to the casino’s finances. It took her only two seconds to identify the players as the type the casino wanted to attract, but no threat to the bottom line. She walked behind Alex and patted him firmly on his ass, shocking him back into humanity.
Roxanne: “Good morning. What is your name?”
Alex: “Alex.”
Roxanne: “Okay, Alex. I am Roxanne. I am glad to see you guys are having a good time in here, but try to tone it down a bit, okay? This is a casino, not a zoo.”
Alex, who for the last half an hour had been oblivious to anything except the craps
table and its small group of participants, scanned the casino floor, surprised to see it was now nearly empty of patrons.
Two carpet-cleaning vehicles were silently maneuvering themselves around the slot machines, erasing the evidence of earlier activity with a soft hum. Outside, totally unknown to anyone in the casino, the sky over the eastern mountains surrounding Las Vegas began to brighten. It was a new dawn, announcing the imminent arrival of another day, in case there was any doubt. Perhaps the new day would be slightly different than the last. Perhaps it would build from its predecessor. Grow. Evolve. There was simply no way to know. The only certainty was that this night would soon become part of the past, irretrievable.
Alex agreed with Roxanne to behave and instinctively looked at the girls who were giggling like fourth-graders, which is pretty much what he felt like. Then he looked at his rack of chips and the piles of chips on the numbers on the table and ceased to care. Roxanne walked away and Alex leaned into Gary’s ear and whispered, “Oooh, ooh, aaah, aah, motherfucker. Hit some more numbers.”
Roger considered any type of interference from casino personnel to be a bad omen and considered pulling down the bets on the nine and ten, each of which were now two grand, but he decided not to.
Gary started a new roll and delivered a very well-timed seven, adding three more black chips to everyone’s hoard. Roxanne was forgotten and the cheering and high fives commenced at an only slightly subdued level. These gains were given right back when Gary came out with a three, then replenished once again with an eleven. Finally, Gary made a new point, a six. Roger and Alex emptied out their communal treasury by placing $1,000 on the five and pressing the nine up to $3,000. Gary again imitated by placing $300 bets. Alex bobbed his head and did some monkey speak and Gary threw the dice. They bounced off the back wall. One fell into the middle of the table showing a six, but the other bounced strangely to the left and flew off the table leading to a round of cursing and concern. All three of the guys subscribed to the universal belief that it is extremely bad luck for any of the dice to leave the table.
Roger: “Oh, no. I don’t like that one bit.”
Alex: “Hmmm. It’s okay. We just need to get through two rolls. G-Balls is our man.”
Roger: “Okay. Let’s go, shooter. Get back on that six. Numbers, numbers, numbers.”
Alex: “Oooh, ooh, aah, aah, ooh, ooh, aah, aah.”
Dealer: “Three, crap dice, three.”
Alex: “Okay, no harm. Nice work.”
Roger: “Let’s go, shooter. All night.”
Berlin: “Come on, G-Balls. Hit my spot.”
Alex: “Oooh, ooh, ahh, aah, aah, aah, ooh, oh.”
Dealer: “Four, the roll is a four. Duece, deuce, four the hard way.”
Alex: “OOOH, OOOH, AAAH, AAAAH, thataboy, G.”
Roger: “Yes, G-Balls!”
Alex (quietly to Roger): “Have you ever seen anything like this?”
Roger: “Maybe once or twice, but it is very rare. Enjoy it while it lasts.”
Kelly came back over to Gary and gave him another kiss on the cheek, her hand lingering on the small of his back. Alex decided to press up the four and the six by $2,000 each and also pressed the hard ways by $100 each and $10 more each for the dealers. He also made a $500 come bet. Roger and Gary had given up following Alex precisely but also added a number of black and yellow chips to their bets already on the table.
Dealer: “The dealers thank you kindly, sir.”
Alex: “My pleasure. Let’s make some more points.”
Roger: “Numbers, numbers, numbers.”
Alex (jumping up and down again): “OOOOH, OOOH, AAAH, AAAH, OOOH, OOOH, AAH, AAH!”
Natasha: “Let’s go, shooter. Ooooohhh!”
Gary: “Here we go.”
Dealer: “Eight. No field, eight. The hard ways fall. Pay the place bets.”
Alex (bobbing his head rapidly): “OOOH, OOOH, AAAAH, AAAH”
Roger (to Alex): “Incredible.”
Alex: “Yeah, that number is not as good as the others, but we will take it. Sir, give me $1,000 odds on the eight, take the place bet down and press the four by $500.”
Roger (handing the dealer an assortment of black and purple chips): “Press my eight and press the four by $500.”
Kelly: “Let’s go, Gary. You are awesome.”
Alex was so into the dice game that up until now he had largely ignored the fact that four very attractive girls were clearly extremely interested in him and his friends. He checked his watch, his left hand still holding the dead Dunhill, to see if there may be time left in the night to try and convince one of the girls to get a room with him. He pondered only a few seconds before deciding that even if the opportunity presented itself, he did not want to leave his friends. Also, he realized he was probably too tired and drunk to perform and should be satisfied if he could get a phone number, preferably from the one he now thought was named Krakow. He noted with amusement that the one in the pink was clearly infatuated with Gary despite the prominent wedding band on his left hand which he had been using to roll.
Finished with his reassessment of the girls, Alex quickly scanned the chip racks. While he, Roger and Gary each had one rack nearly full with chips, Alex was shocked to see how little actual money remained, as nearly all of the surviving chips were ones, fives and twenty-fives. Counting only the money in the racks, Roger was down to $875, Alex $790 and Gary $1,220. Only $500 remained in Alex and Roger’s communal fund. The girls now had over $5,000 each. This didn’t compute in his head until he scanned the table and realized he alone had over $6,500 on the board, with Roger nearly equal. He was a bit shocked as he couldn’t ever remember having more than two grand on the table at any one time in his gambling history. “Rock n’ Roll,” he thought. Apparently, Roger had a similar observation.
Roger: “Dude, there’s a lot of fucking money out there all of a sudden.”
Alex: “I was just noticing that. Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em, I guess.”
Dealer: “Dice are out.”
Alex (beginning to bob his head): “Oooh, ooh, aaah, aaah.”
Kelly: “Let’s go, Gary.”
Natasha: “Come on, shooter.”
Roger: “Go, G-Balls. Numbers, numbers, numbers.”
Alex (getting into the three-point stance and nearly humping the ground): “OOOH, OOOH , OOOH, OOOH, AAAH, AAAH, AAAH, AAAH!”
Berlin: “Come on, baby. Do it for us.”
Roger slapped Alex on his ass: “Hey, over there, is that Mike? Check it out, walking by the sports book.”
Alex stood up on his toes to get a better look over the slot machines: “Holy shit. It is. It’s Sourpuss. Should we call him over here?”
Roger: “It looks like he is with someone.”
Alex: “Yes. Hold on. Isn’t that? . . . My God . . . It is. That’s the biscuit from the In ‘N Out burger. Tara.”
Roger: “Damn, she is looking fine. You may need to rethink your fast food uniform fetish. She looks a hell of a lot better in a mini-dress.”
Alex: “Fuckin’ A. Absolutely incredible. She is indisputably the Queen of Vegas. At least for tonight.”
Roger: “Makes you wonder how she ended up with Mike.”
Alex: “All I can say is, Wow!”
Roger: “Yeah.”
Alex: “Seriously. Wow!”
Roger: “From now on, I am eating every meal at In ‘N Out.”
Alex: “Yeah, those are good burgers. Jesus. Who is the big fucking winner in the casino now?”
Roger: “Mikey is.”
Alex: “Yep. Mikey is.”
As they watched, Mike and Tara stopped walking in front of the elevator bank that led to the guest rooms. They held hands, facing each other and staring into each other’s eyes. They began to kiss, slowly at first; then it rapidly evolved into a sloppy make-out session with Mike’s hands groping clumsily all over her ass.
Alex: “Check it out. Mikey, you sneaky little cooze-commando. You go, boy.�
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Roger: “Amazing.”
Alex: “You see, I told you everything always works out.”
Roger and Alex continued to be engaged by the romance of their friend and his beautiful companion, temporarily oblivious to the craps game. They watched quietly as Tara led him by the hand to the guest room elevators and hit the call button. One opened immediately and she dragged him inside. They started kissing again, her hand moving to the crotch area of his jeans. With that, the silver elevator doors slid shut. The next chapter would be their own.
Because he rolled it, Gary saw it first. “Ah, fuck,” he mumbled.
Roger and Alex were still staring stupidly at the elevator door and didn’t register what happened until they heard the dealer make the call, “Seven. Seven out. Line away.” Alex’s eyes immediately shifted back to the craps table, frantically searching for the dice. He saw a two at the far end of the table, and then, sure enough, located the other die leaning up against the dealer’s stacks of chips. It came to rest at nearly a forty-five degree angle, but there was no doubt it was a five.
Their response was simultaneous.
Roger: “Thumper the God-damned Rumper Humper! Fuck me slowly.”
Alex: “No. No. No. No. Schweddy, Schweddy Fucking Balls!”
THE END
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Thanks for reading 333 Miles. If you liked it, please share it with your friends. 333 Miles is available in print at most major online retailers. Any comments? Please let me know at [email protected].
Sincerely,
Craig Birk
