Hey there. How y’all doin’ today? Good, I hope! Well, I had a blog topic all picked out and was doing research to get material for it and ran out of time. I’ve got the material, but it’s gonna take too long to figure out how to put it all together and have it make sense and now it’s late and my brain is almost fried. So what to do? I thought about recycling an old blog and then I thought nah…that’s not fair. So here I am, stuck again for a blog topic. I know…big shocker!
So I’m taking my friend’s advice and blogging about our Laughlin trip last weekend. If you’ve never been to Laughlin, you owe yourself a trip because it’s a fabulous people-watching spot. And if you are a lucky soul, you could win a bundle. I don’t typically tend to be lucky, so I set a limit on how much I can lose in a day and I try to stay with it. This trip, I did pretty good. I lost my limit on Friday night. Then on Saturday I lost $30 more than my limit. But on Sunday I won back the $30 and another $25 to boot. So I actually considered this trip a big WIN. LOL However, there is a sad tale to tell…I came home with a $10 machine voucher…which means I left $10 in Laughlin because I forgot to take the ticket to the cashier. ARGH! Stupid Girl was at work that day!
Anyway, I still had a great time. And, like I said, the people-watching is fabulous there. But one thing absolutely dumbfounds me. Why do those old women let those old men go out in public dressed like that?! OMG, you see it all. Plaid shorts with Hawaiian shirts, white socks with sandals, pants 4 inches too short, toupees that look like they came out of a Cracker Jack box, and never mind the old men in shorts with no underwear! That image is going to take an ice pick to remove from my brain.
Then there is the hover-around. And no, I’m not talking about a scooter. I’m talking about the old man who is convinced his wife doesn’t know how to gamble so he has to watch her—close. He stands behind her chair and leans over her…because she can’t hear his directions if he stands back too far. So if you are unfortunate enough to be sitting next to his wife, his junk is about shoulder height just off your left side. So you squirm to the right in your chair to ensure avoiding contact. And as he stands there, he is scowling and telling her the right buttons to hit and why she made the wrong choice on that last hand. And if he gets too agitated because she’s made too many bad choices, he starts to lean in further and you can’t tell if what’s brushing your left shoulder now is his junk or his belly…and either way, it’s not good news. But you don’t dare look…because you don’t know whether it’s his junk or his belly!
Oh, and what is it with doling out the twenty dollar bills one at a time? Can’t she be trusted with “their” money? Why can’t she just have money in her purse that she can carry with her wherever she goes and spend it or gamble it however she wants? How come he gets to be boss of the money AND the machine? And when she runs out of money, why doesn’t he just insist she quit? After all, it’s clear he’s not having a good time because he’s been scowling and lecturing her for an hour. But instead of making her leave the machine or (heaven forbid) just walking away, he reaches across and feeds another twenty dollar bill into her machine. HUH? Okay, I’m no genius, but even I know he’s getting something out of this or he wouldn’t keep feeding the monster. So what is it? The satisfaction of being able to rub her nose in her losses? The feeling of freedom you get from a lighter wallet? No…my theory is that he’s getting even with her…getting even because she let him walk out of the hotel room that morning wearing those stupid green plaid shorts with that horrid purple Hawaiian shirt (with some kind of food stain on the front), and no underwear!
Well, that’s my Laughlin story, bonkers and ballsy, and I’m stickin’ to it. Hold on tight now ‘cuz we’re gonna go real, real fast!