Hear Me Out

IDLE HANDS

January 1, 1998

 

I've never made a secret of the fact that I envy anyone who truly has faith. It can be faith in God or in the Great Pumpkin. Anytime a person can take that leap of faith it's a sort of illogical miracle. I've never been able to do it. I always want to hedge my bet, just in case IT isn't there. I don't want to look like a fool.

The closest thing I have to faith is mild superstition. This belief system only has a dark side that explains why things go horribly wrong.

Let's say you are camping and your tent-mate says something like, "Oh, we haven't seen any man eating, rabid, horny polar bears around here all week!"

Get the hell out of that tent and go climb a tree because I guarantee one big, ugly buck of a bear just heard his mating call.

Leslie and I went to Reno this week, just for a couple of days. I enjoy gambling and we try to go about twice a year. I play Roulette because it's easy and sociable. Leslie plays craps because she is an insane person who wants to keep track of numbers and hang out with cigar-smoking, bourbon drinking old men.

A company I used to work for invited us to their Christmas office party this year. They had gaming tables and everyone got 500 DataBucks to play with. I chose the Roulette table and Leslie went to the Craps table. I should add that she was the only woman at the craps table.

At one point in the evening, some guy proposed to his girlfriend over the DJ's mike. All of the women, including myself, screamed and ran over to see who it was and what her answer would be.

I should say all the women except Leslie. She looked at us, turned back to the table of men and without missing a beat said, "Women." shook her head and rolled the dice.

On this most recent trip to Reno she was down to about $15 dollars when we changed casinos. She found a table that she felt good about and built that fifteen bucks up to $207. Pretty damned amazing. The best thing is that she's so smart she knows when to leave.

I'm glad we have different games to play because she is the cold, dark hand of death when it comes to my game. Logically, I know full well that each spin of the Roulette wheel is an independent event from the last and there is no way that a person can influence that ball. I also know for a stone sober fact that anytime Leslie comes within 5 yards I will lose and keep losing.

We stayed at the Silver Legacy. A great big hotel with a casino. It's a great place to stay. Comfortable, pretty well ventilated and cheery without being cheesy. I was winning, up about $50. Leslie wondered over and decided to join me. My one great gift in this life is that I'm right about the color the ball will fall in about 90% of the time. As soon as Leslie came over and sat down I started losing and kept losing for the rest of the night.

Whatever harmonic convergence I have with that little ball and that big wheel just goes out the window whenever that woman is around. I have no explanation other than that fact that she is the cold, dark hand of death.

An interesting side note to all this. We were listening to the radio and they were talking about New Year's traditions around the world. In Scotland it is believed that the first person that enters your home after the New Year will foretell your luck for the year. If it's a dark haired man, good luck. If it's a red haired woman, bad luck for the whole year. My Leslie has the most strikingly beautiful red hair, like spun fiery copper. Beautiful and dangerous.

My point in all this is that although I have no faith I do believe deep in my heart that who ever put Leslie in my life must exact a tax for all the goodness she brings to me. I suppose if it's a choice between winning loads of cash at Roulette twice a year and having Leslie with me the rest of my life - I suppose I'll take her.  


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Copyright 1998 by Laura Jiménez.

 

Updated 01/18/98
D&S Associates