Hey, Scribelets! Has another week gone by already? It’s Suze again. I just got back from a four-day weekend in Atlantic City, so I thought I’d share what I learned:
Casinos Smell Bad. No matter what kind of air purification system is in place, nothing gets rid of the smell of cigarette smoke.
Casinos Are Not Full of Beautiful Rich People. This is a James Bond Hollywood myth. There was no Sean Connery in a perfectly fitted tuxedo allowing a stunning woman in an evening gown to choose Roulette numbers for him. There were plenty of people dressed in sweatshirts and jeans. In fact, and I’m not just flattering myself, I was one of the youngest and most glam people around. Hey! Who just snorted coffee out her/his nose? I’ll have you know I did something with my hair and put on makeup and a cute jacket every day. (Shhhh, don’t tell Footwear Diva Jamie Pope this, but I alternately wore Skechers sneakers and a pair of those butt-toning shoes the whole time! Now, if she had let me borrow her gladiator sandals, I might have gotten a pedi and sacrificed comfort for style!).
Not One Single Sighting of The Donald. Or any other famous person, for that matter, except the poster for the drag show featuring guys dressed like Cher, Joan Rivers, Patti LaBelle and … Prince. Which seemed oxymoronish — a guy, dressed like Prince, in a female impersonator show. Or maybe more like a dude, playing a dude, disguised as another dude. I’m still trying to get my head around that one. And the show wasn’t even playing while we were there, so I guess I’ll never figure that one out.
Shrunken Heads Are Easier to Make Than You Might Think. One visit to the Ripley’s Believe It Or Not Museum, and I feel pretty confident I could do it. All you need are some hot rocks, sand, and boiling water laced with plants containing tannins (tea or walnuts, perhaps?). Oh yes, and a head. Which, according to my son, “is the hard part.”
I Am Not Much Of A Gambler. I didn’t drop any money at all into the one-armed bandits the entire weekend. Is that a collective gasp I hear? Oh, I’ve got nothing against responsible gambling, and I planned to do some myself at some point. But Mr. Suze was at a conference most of the time, and my son was with me (and not quite old enough to be left to his own devices in a casino complex). Mom that I am, it just never happened.
However, on the last day, we’d grown weary of walking the celebrity-free Boardwalk. We still had a couple of hours to kill before we were scheduled to leave, so we followed about a thousand seniors into the Giant Bingo game and stood in the back, intending to watch for a while. Somebody always wins at Bingo (and we hadn’t seen a single person win a dime down on the casino floor), so there was guaranteed to be some excitement.
An adorable elderly man (Danny, whom I later learned had some vision deficiencies), approached my son and asked if he could come and play Bingo for his friend, who hadn’t shown up for the game. He didn’t want to let the extra cards go to waste, and the “authorities” apparently don’t let a person play two sets of cards at once. I gently explained that my son was not of age and could not play.
Danny then asked if I would do the honors. My son assured me he would be fine in the back of the room, so I dutifully took my place at a table full of lively seniors who’d come in from Boston on a bus trip. I didn’t win, even though the sweet lady who sat next to me helped me watch my cards so I didn’t miss anything. They play some complicated games that I, with my grade school Bingo education, needed a bit of help with. Danny, perhaps overcome with grief at my not winning, did not stick around afterward, but my new friends allowed me to take their picture for the blog. When I offered to take down their e-mail addresses and send them links, my ladies shook their heads. “We don’t have e-mail, dear.” Maybe not, but they were having a great time on their adventure. And so did I.
How about you? Had any adventures lately? Have you taken a gamble on something?