Practice Makes Perfect

Which is why, in preparation for my upcoming trip to Sin City, on which I'll be joined by, among others, Furdells 1-3, at least Pinzurs 1-2 (will Lady Pinz show?), and Pup, I am planning to shoot down to AC this coming weekend, with a man whom no link could do justice, forevermore to be known on this blog as Bag.

Atlantic City, as I'm sure most of you have heard, is the East St. Louis of the gambling world. When you exit the Atlantic City Expressway and navigate the streets of the city to get to the parking deck of your choice, you might be tempted to yell "Roll 'em up!" lest you lose a hubcap or two off the Family Truckster whilst chatting with the natives. But AC does have one thing going for it. No, not minor league baseball. It's the gambling, stupid.

One problem with AC as compared to Vegas is that there's no sports betting. So, after getting your ass ceremoniously handed to you by the unsmiling Vietnamese blackjack dealer, you can't take a "break" by going and laying $10 on some football game (or, in the summer, baseball game) and sitting to watch whoever you bet on get their asses handed to them, thus completing the circuit. So, I have promised myself that when I need a break this weekend, I'm going to perform some community service. The casinos of Atlantic City are overwhelmingly populated by what we under the age of 80 like to call the "Bus People." Every old retired person with nothing better to do in the greater New York area reloads his or her oxygen tank and gets on a bus at least once a month, riding a few hours in a vehicle that must smell like death itself for the privilege of parking his or her wheelchair in front of a nickel slot machine and painstakingly inserting coin after coin until the Depends just can't hold anymore liquid. So I, LiAps, vow, that if I am getting so demolished that I cannot bring myself to dig into the pocket for another Benjamin, I will walk around the casino volunteering my services as slot arm puller for the aged and infirm. Of course, if I'm on a roll, Great Grandma can go roll herself off the pier for all I care. That's just how it is.