I was just about ready to go home. I really was.
The fairly recent tradition of going to the Casino to celebrate our belated birthdays (mine, my brother's and my grandmother's) was already starting to feel redundant. Not to mention it was hot like all hell in there - something about renovations affecting the ventilation system. So much for the expected oxygen boost. By the time we found my parents and located the only 25-cent slots my Nonna plays, my brother was down to a t-shirt and Amy looked ready to call it a night.
I sat down and watched one particular machine digest my ten dollar bill in under two minutes without so much as a burp. I despise slots. So i decided to move two seats down to remind my Nonna which sequence of buttons got her one credit per bet. Her luck was no better. I believe she was fumbling through her wallet for her second twenty (my Mom constantly has to remind her she's not broke) when my brother - who had since inherited my ungrateful machine - managed to line up two special doubles and a white seven. There were no flashing lights, no alarms of any kind. Still the credits began to accumulate and did not stop for what seemed like two solid minutes. We all watched as they crept past 100, 200, 400, 600, 1000, 1500, 2000 and finally 2400 without any of us having imagined such a payout..
My brother Mark, who had cursed his own luck again in the underground parking lot, had hit a jackpot of sorts. He was up $600.
The collective enthusiasm, however, did little to curb the heat. Amy looked more miserable than ever, complaining there wasn't enough air. I could sense that lethal combination of anger and fear in her voice so we took a little walk to the Roulette tables, where it wasn't so stuffy. I considered dropping $25 on Black as was our own little tradition (started one magical night in Vegas) but she was in no mood. I was getting a little annoyed myself. I always find a way to enjoy myself - even if i never win. Must be the gambler in me. Or the one in my Nonna, i should say.
I asked her for $20 anyway and just put it in my back pocket. After getting a bottle of water, she insisted she'd tough it out at the slots, alone. I was going to go it alone when my brother found me. We decided to budget $100. Why ruin a winning streak, right?
The first couple of rounds did not go well. I was sandwiched between two older Asian men at the far corner of the table, the closest to the dealer. My brother didn't even bother to get in on the action, calling out his numbers from five feet out without ever lifting his eyes from his iPhone. And then this happened.
1 chip on 33 Black. Boom.
2 chips on 2 Black (my brother's birthday). Boom
2 chips on 25 Red. (my Nonna's birthday). Boom.
Three rounds, three straight numbers. I had since found myself a decent spot at the table and my brother was now standing behind me, phone in his pocket. Even Amy found her way back to the table. She called out 5 Red to my brother and he passed on the message. Boom. We were suddenly up $300 some odd dollars and had my father grinning. That's right, the rational accountant who does his gambling on the stock market exclusively was now intrigued by our stubborn luck.
I, meanwhile, had been slowly increasing the bets with each turn and now had three chips on 2-3, the numerical compromise of both our birthdays. I put 50 on black as well. 2 Black came out again. This time i got the stiff-arm to the shoulder plate and a grinning "what the fuck?" from my brother. This was the fifth straight number we had hit. It was controlled insanity. The dealer was now throwing in some of those charcoal $100 chips with the payouts, possibly aware that the $2.50 turquoise variety were building up in six uneven piles in front of me. The Asians had also taken notice. When my brother called for 17 Black - not even realizing it was mommy's birthday - others followed.
It came out. With the four chips and the extra 50 on Black, we were now up close to a grand.
My mom was begging us to call it quits. "Wait until they lose first, Lina" was my father's reply. I recognized the need to get out ahead, but something told me we were just getting started. But 20 Black was to be the first number that caught us off guard. And even though i had picked Black, we got up and walked away.
On the way to the cash, I replayed the sequence of numbers to my father and discovered that by guessing 2 Black twice (my father was born on the 22nd) we had managed to hit every one's birthday except for Amy's. No amount of logic could explain the significance and my father knew it.
It's as if we had decoded the universe that particular family night. And nothing less.
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