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Addictive personalities make plans/That are subject to constant revision. I, who am addicted/to casino gambling

And overeating, had originally planned/To spend an hour doing household chores/And then hoofing it to Carl’s Jr. for an only slightly unhealthy breakfast,/And then hopskipjumping to PIP Coffee & Clay,/There to work on my wheel-throwing technique, find myself/At a dive bar called the Hideaway Lounge Sportsbar & Grill, digesting/Eggs over easy, two sausage links,/sourdough toast, crispy hash browns,/And an Irish Coffee heavily laced/With Jameson’s Irish Whiskey and a special/Vanilla-enhanced version of Bailey’s Irish Cream.

I will leave after I have finished/The bottle of Budweiser I now ingest/And the ten ounces or so of chaser-water.

If I were an alcoholic, I would be on my way to big trouble today.

Praise be, Alcohol is not my nemesis, although/In my more horrific gambling misadventures,/Alcohol has certainly been an unindicted co-conspirator/Because it impairs judgment/And loosens inhibitions.

But the demonic imp with whom I wrestle,/The at-risk factor that will do me in if I let it,/The deadly Wanna that is my direst character flaw,/Is the glittery temptress, Mademoiselle Chance.

I have had twisted, ghastly sex with Her/An awful number of times/And with the deep consequences of loss and grief/In tragic disproportion/To the delights She offers.

I left Her standing at the altar of my undoing/About two and a half years ago.

I hope never to see Her again, even on my deathbed.

Still, even this minute, she whispers

Come see me.

I miss you.

Sometime in the year before he died/My dad and I were on Fremont Street in downtown Vegas/Where the night seems day like with all that light

We were shooting craps at Binion’s Horseshoe/And I had placed the 6 for six dollars

And the 6 came up and I said “Press it”

And it hit again and I said “Go to 18”

And I got another one and I said “Go to 24”

And then unbelievably 6 came up yet again

And Dad said “You should take it down”/But I said “Hard 6 for two bucks”/Throwing two one-dollar chips/To where the stick man could get them

And there were several rolls that were neither 6 nor 7

Then the shooter flung a crazy-bouncing roll/And one die was 3 and the other spun like a top

And I murmured something I’d heard a pit guy say long ago: “And then the waiter came out carrying…”

And the other die stopped spinning/and 4 was on top/but it did a half roll! Three!/And as the men at the table/Let out a lusty masculine roar/I finished my sentence loudly though doubting I’d be heard: “…TWO TREYS!!”

And I collected and was way ahead

But sometime after midnight I and my dad were almost tapped out

So we went to the Union Plaza where the minimum craps bet was only a quarter

And we lasted about an hour

Dad was busted out but I had a few bucks/So I took him to a cheap breakfast

Feeling less like a son/Than a brother

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Gamblin’ Fool and the Lucky Ladies

The Valley of the Sun in Arizona has casinos
And some of the Blackjack tables have a side bet called Lucky Ladies

Bet a buck or more on the Lucky Ladies
And if the two cards you are dealt total 20
You have won at least four bucks
Even if it’s an ace and a nine.
If the two cards are the same suit you have won at least nine bucks,
If the two cards are identical face cards you have won at least nineteen bucks,
And if the two cards are both the Queen of Hearts,
You have won
At Least A HUNDRED AND TWENTY-FIVE BUCKS.

But if
The Two Cards
Are BOTH QUEENS OF HEARTS
AND THE DEALER HAS A BLACKJACK
You Have WON
A THOUSAND DOLLARS
FOR EVERY DOLLAR YOU BET.

It is called a “Sucker Bet”
Because the odds are much against you.

(Let’s have a brief interlude into Probability;
Please skip this stanza if uninterested.
For a double deck, which is close enough for our demo,
The odds are two in 104, or one in 52,
of you getting the first Queen of Hearts,
And the odds are one in 103
Of you getting the second Queen.
So already you’re looking at odds of one in 5,356 of getting those Queens.
Of the 102 cards remaining,
Eight are Aces
And 30 are face cards.
So of the 10,202 ways the dealer can get two of the remaining cards
There are eight ways he can get an Ace on the first card,
30 ways he can get a face card on the second card.
So, of course, there are 30 ways to get a face card on the first card
And eight ways to get an Ace on the second.
So 240 times two is 480 ways she can have a Blackjack.
Divide 480 by 10,202
And you get odds of a little worse
Than 1 in 20.
So the odds of you getting two Queens of Hearts
And at the same time the dealer getting Blackjack
Are less than one in 107,120.
That means they pay out less than 2 cents on the dollar
Of the true odds
That it happens.
Sucker!!)

But sometimes Suckers Win.
And the Gamblin’ Fool
On this auspicious occasion
Had not one but THREE dollars bet on the Lucky Ladies.
He let out a Whoop when the Queens appeared,
And felt light-headed when the dealer, in a sweet conspiratorial voice
Said “I do have the Blackjack.”

So there he was, winner of THREE THOUSAND DOLLARS…
Or WAS he?

First they called Upstairs
To run the vid
To establish that everything was on the up and up.
The Gamblin’ Fool had to fill out a couple of forms.
One was a W-2G
Which meant the three grand was Taxable Income.
Another was an Agreement
With the option to let the Casino use the event and his likeness
In promotional material.
(He passed.)

When the smoke cleared the dealer,
A sweet person of color,

Who seemed genuinely thrilled for him,
Handed the Gamblin’ Fool
Six purple $500 chips
And he in turn handed her a hundred-dollar bill as a tip
Wondering if he was being a Cheapskate.

When he turned in the chips he tipped the cashier $20,
Saying “My lucky day.”

He left the Casino with his head held high,
Finally Walking Away A Winner,
Two ghostly
Lucky Ladies
By his sides.

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My dad was a Gamblin’ Man, and it negatively impacted both his marriages. He also had an appreciation for the unadorned female form–impact unknown, to me at least. I have inherited both these proclivities, and have found through the school of hard knocks that the healthiest way to deal with them is to own up to them, avoid casinos (three-plus years of gambling sobriety and counting!), and love the one I’m with to the exclusion of others, physically anyway. But I still itch, and I still look, so sometimes I “own my shadow” and take a look at one or the other of them, or, in this case, both.

Here are the words to the Gritlock acrostic:

Gamblers fly high then hit the wall
Rise & shimmy & slip & fall–O
It’s a harrowing story arc
Taut with tragedy; tawdry; stark

Here are the words to the Gridluck acrostic:

Got three squares in the office pool
Righteous fare for a Looky-Lou
Idle eyeful of tawny chic
Dares not touch but he’ll take a peek