Not even eleven minutes into my run this afternoon I twisted my ankle and fell. I was near the IHOP, far enough away from home to have to call to be picked up. While it did hurt like hell, it wasn't severe enough for me to hash the trip to Cache Creek Casino we'd been planning since last night. Now, none of us gamble and I feel hinky about supporting the gaming industry (even "Indian" casinos) and the atmosphere can provoke thoughts and evoke feelings that prevent me from seeing this as the entertainment others seem to enjoy. But once in a great while, someone will get a wild hair up his/her ass and just want to drive up 505 and I fully support it! The last time was three years ago. I didn't play, but spent the time savoring the kitsch of the karaoke contest, a Chinese acrobat show and the lounge singer. There were no lounge acts tonight - due to "Ricky Nelson Remembered" tribute concert. So the company, the mini-road trip and Vietnamese coffee were tonight's motivations for getting off my high horse (properly outfitted to do so, I might add, as cowboy boots provide excellent ankle support). I popped some Advil, got in the back seat, elevated my leg, and stuffed some Otter Pops down my boot to abate the swelling. By the time we arrived, the Otter Pops had melted (with no leakage as I removed them). Once inside we headed to Fat's restaurant (hour and a half wait) so we turned to leave, and several security guards rushed by us and seized one of the patrons in the casino and drug him out! It seemed a bit surreal...most of the players didn't even look up from their machines. After dinner (comida mexicana) we split up, agreeing to meet later at the bromeliad outside of Fat's. My sensory overload was dulling. Pleasant odor of cigarette smoke, though, and I wondered if it would be absorbed into my clothes and if tomorrow I've have a little olfactory reminder of going out at night. Trying to get some feelings back, I looked at the eyes of people coming towards me and people sitting at play. I watched $100.00 bills leaving their fists and being laid down on tables or disappear face up into those slots and register digitally on a screen. Eventually I put four $1.00 bills into a nickel machine with a proper pull handle and a game I didn't really understand. Maybe it was a bit entertaining...I think. I did win $20.00 and was happy ("That's a book!"), but not elated, nor moved to take a bigger risk. The Vietnamese coffee was paradoxically calming and I think three years from now, I'll start with one.
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