Friday, March 4

My Mini-Vacation. (Part 1 of 2)

I'm back from part 1 of my mini-vacation already.

Why?



Because I suck, that's why. Someday, I'll realize that my luck is awful, and I'll never win a single thing at a Native American Gaming Establishment (NAGE). I hope the above picture captured my loneliness and frustration, because I was sure feeling it at around that time.

We arrived with stars in our eyes and shuffled around in bewilderment for a while, before settling down and getting into a mindset for robbing these fools blind. I had brought along a fist full of $20's, and I wasn't leaving until I had at least doubled my money.

My first stop was the "Mariachi Madness" machine, where I loaded it up with cash and swung for the fences.



19 seconds later...



That's a cash printout for 1 cent, and it was pretty much time to go home.

I cashed in my penny, and headed over to the arcade. There, I vented my frustration the only way I knew how.

I DANCED!




I rocked the DDR machine like it's never been rocked before. I was so dope, the dancefloor gots' blisters. The J-Pop was flooding my ears with full force, and I became lord of the Dance Dance Revolution! (The Missus may tell you that this wasn't the case. In fact, she might tell you that I looked embarrassing and sad. This is her opinion only, and should be taken with a grain of salt.)

The Missus was beginning to feel the weight of my failure, wrapped tightly around her pretty neck.



We managed to scrap enough money together to get a pizza. There, I contemplated jumping off the terrace. The Missus contemplated throwing me off herself.



I did some deep thinking. I mean, how stupid am I? I work hard for my money, and I was so willing to waste it on something that I knew wouldn't reciprocate. I looked forward to going to the casino for a week, and I knew damn well that I would just lose money and go home. I could have paid my power bill for the amount of money that I blew today. Then it hit me.

I had a responsible thought.

Why does responsibility always hit me after the fact? Why do I realize the error of my ways seconds after the mistake is made, and not seconds before? Most people think of me, and assume that I would be a compulsive and dangerous gambler. After this experience, I never want to gamble ever again. (Let's not forget my first gambling experience in Minnesota, where I lost more money in an hour than I make in a week.)

Screw you, Ho-Chunk Casino and Convention Center!

I wanted to get back at them. I wanted to do something to them that would hurt their heritage as much as they had hurt me. I wanted to disrespect them.



So I stood in front of their "heritage" mural, and had a picture of me taken making a call on my cell phone. If you don't understand why that's funny and offensive, that's probably a good thing. They may have my money, but I have their land.

Holy crap, that's really uncool. I'm just in a bad mood, don't send me hate mail or scalp me. See, the responsible thoughts always come a little too late.

It is pretty funny, though.

I was invited to a gathering on Friday, but I'm going to have to respectfully pass and lick my wounds until Saturday. Then, part 2 of my mini-vacation will start, and I'll spend Saturday and Sunday in Green Bay with the Jenkel twins. (See here for what transpired on our last trip there.) Of course, I'll take pictures and be in a better mood. Stay tuned.

Comments:
There's a tv show on Fox called The Simpsons, and there was an episode where they go to a Native-American-owned Casino. There were many humorous things said by various characters that would relate well to your visit to a Native-American-owned casino.
 
“Wait, how do you know this is the place Lincoln buried his gold? You just started counting from an arbitrary place.”

That was a terrible episode, which once again fits perfectly to the mood of my trip.

There WAS a "Price is Right" slot machine that was sort of fun, but it sucked my money down so fast I didn't even have a chance to enjoy it. Rot in hell, Rod Roddy!
 
That was a terrible episodeThat's crazy talk.
 
I only go to casinos with my grandparents now. They're all tricked out with their official casino members card loaded with thousands of dollars, it comes with one of those twirly cords so their cards are attached to their wrists for easy access. They put their game faces on and will easily dish out a few hundred or so every Sunday, but they win more than they lose. And they have money to lose. How is this fair?
It's not. That's why it's gambling.
They say the house always wins, but I think there's also a bias toward the old and decrepit. Get on a tour bus with some seniors and you'll win your money back no problem.
 
You're so right, Jay. We went to the casino on a Thursday afternoon, so every handicapped spot in the parking lot was full, if you know what I mean. Seniors everywhere under a thick cloud of cigar smoke. I'd lose $20 on a machine in 3 minutes, and I'd realize that these people have been sitting at their machines for 3 hours. How do they do that?

Easy, they have $800 in that machine, and they don't care if they win or lose, but they usually win. It takes money to make money, but it might also take sheer apathy. I'm going back next time with my Grandma.

Welcome aboard, Jay! You're my first International member! Don't be a stranger, 'eh?
 

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