|Nipple black-out; keepin’ it clean.|
In March of 2000, I traveled with several friends and one brother to the best party city in the world; New Orleans, Louisiana. The seafood is spectacular, the vampires are sexy, the drinks are flowing, the music is swinging, the boobs are…uh, swinging, and it’s also where I got my first big taste of gambling glory.
My brother and I sat at the $5 blackjack table usually reserved for the high rollers in wheelchairs accessorized with oxygen tanks. We enjoyed many free drinks offered by those lovely ladies parading around with trays of watered-down booze. Fast forward 12 hours, and we found ourselves in pretty good shape. We stumbled from the table to the changer sometime between two and three in the morning and cashed out several hundred dollars each. Growing up in the Rust Belt and this being the year 2000, the winnings felt more like several hundred thousand dollars.
|Nice pair of beignets you got there, honey.|
Walking down Canal Street in a booze-fueled haze at three in the morning is a trip as long as nobody cracks you over the head for the money. Before leaving the casino, we went into a bathroom stall and slid the money inside of our shoe in the quiet, stealthy manner of the seriously inebriated. We managed to stumble back to the hotel amidst beads and boobs and woke up the next morning to a plate of beignets and a chicory coffee. Good times.
|Baby needs a new pair of SHOES.|
Why the nostalgia? The Horseshoe Casino opened this week in Cleveland, Ohio, the first in the state. I’m thinking I need to get down there and try my luck at the blackjack table although judging from the people that stood in line for the casino’s grand opening, I may leave the Mardi Gras beads at home.