When NOT To Gamble
I like playing poker, but I'm not much of a gambler. I haven't liked horse racing since I took a pony ride as a kid and the animal deposited a fragrant 13-pound dump next to a girl I was sweet on. I can't calculate the tip on a dinner check in my head, so how am I gonna count cards at blackjack?
But last night I decided to gamble it up a little bit--and I lost. Oh, how I lost.
Went to a local sports bar to watch my Bucs battle the Evil Empire. I was in the mood for a burger, and after all the trip reports I've read it's no wonder that I settled on one called the "Las Vegas Burger". Bacon, BBQ sauce, chedder cheese. Sounded like a winner. Plus, and here's the tricky part, after you finish you get to roll the dice to see how much you have to pay. Roll a seven, it's $3.99. Roll an eleven, it's free. Anything else, seven bucks.
Well, all right! Let's gamble, baby. Ate the burger, it was very good. As were the fries. Good dinner. My third beer was about to meet its destiny when our very pretty waitress came up with the hostess and the dice. All eyes turned to Mean Gene, who gave the bones a little shake, found a clear spot, and made my throw with plenty of wrist.
The first die settled on five, very nice. The second...came a three. I shot out of my chair and screamed "GODDAMMIT TO FRIGGIN' HELL!!" Well, maybe I exaggerate. "Oh well" is what I think I actually said. I shed no tears.
There the story would end, if I hadn't woken up at about 4AM covered in sweat and shivering. Yes, I was sick as the proverbial pup. When I took my temperature it said 96.5, which I think means I need a new digital thermometer. I called off work, crashed until 11AM, and spent the rest of the day dealing with a variety of GI issues. Awesome.
I guess I can't blame the burger with any degree of certainty (I had wings too), but it goes to show, when you gamble, there's always a risk you could lose. Sometimes your shirt...sometimes your lunch.