We stayed at the Buffalo Thunder Casino in Santa Fe, or rather, the Homewood Suites behind it. While Bill, Chuck and Tami were ready to spin the roulette wheel and pull the slot machine handles, I was a little unsure. I’m not a gambler, not because I have some moral precedent against it per say, but because I fear I’d like gambling too much. I fear that I’ll get sucked into the lure of a possible Big Win and not know when to walk away. While I’m not competitive with other people, I’m hugely competitive with myself. I do not like to fail.
Additionally, I don’t like throwing money away.
We went to the casino only one night – the first night – and it was a feast for the senses. The clattering noise of the slot machines were deafening and the twinkling lights made my eyes zig zag across the room. The majority of casino goers were smoking and not at all what I imagined they’d look like. Commercials and billboards want you to believe that beautiful people are waiting for you inside, but the reality is that most of the gamblers are grossly overweight, elderly, or downtrodden. (Or all three.) Many who sat at the penny slots looked as if they didn’t have a penny to spare.
But it was at the penny slots where I sat most of the night, when I wasn’t watching Chuck at the roulette table. I gambled away a whole eight dollars at the penny slots, upping my bets to 25 and 50 cents on occasion, but mostly playing it safe to keep the game going longer. When my thrill was gone, I was done. I didn’t enjoy it as I feared. Instead, I was bummed that I lost my eight dollars.
Though he also played it safe, Chuck took a more calculated risk. He gambled $40 and almost always played the odds in his favor at the roulette table. At one point he was up nearly $100, and when he whittled it back down to his original $40, he walked away. Naturally, I ragged him about not walking away when he was ahead, but hey – what’s the fun in that?
And what’s the fun in abiding by the “no pictures” rule? I was sneaky. But only a little sneaky.
My short experience at Buffalo Thunder solidified that I indeed am not a gambler. I’d much rather have eight dollars in my wallet than feel a brief rush from the spinning slots, only to walk away disappointed and smelling like cigarette smoke. There are other thrills in life that are worth the gamble.
Like parenting.