like a magnet
I'm not sure if there was a memo circulated about it or not, but The Shrewdness of Apes is alive. Our friend Jamie is grumbling about the transit system and musing about college basketball. Juding from the entries, he's spent more time writing about college basketball in the past two weeks than I've spent watching it during my lifetime.
I mention this only because I know he's headed to Atlantic City this weekend and I am jealous. I haven't been there in three weeks and I feel the craps tables calling out to me. As I said to someone recently, I realized I was alive on a late Monday morning at Caesar's. I was tucked into the corner of a craps table where my winnings from the previous night were slipping away. The somewhat lukewarm table was turning cold and the chips were flying out of my hand with two or three or four or five raked in by the dealer every four minutes. Watching my money disappear that fast was like a sharp kick to the gut. I'd been saving that cash for months for just this gambling trip! And it was gone. And it felt good.
I cut my losses before too much disappeared. I lost a few more Andrew Jacksons (I don't want to give you the impression I'm a high roller) forty minutes later at a different casino. I didn't feel anything with that loss. The money was already gone. The life had been torn from my insides. It was time to go home.
I wish Jamie the best of luck. He better win so we can all go back in June.