I must say... casinos are very curious places.

So yeah... my daddy took me to Atlantic City on Saturday. hehe.

I cannot comprehend why there are so many freaking types of slot machines… but I did find myself particularly drawn to the I Love Lucy, Pink Panther, Black and White and Star Moon styles. And I swear, those 5 cent ones are a complete rip off. Who am I kidding… the whole thing is a rip off. And I was appalled to discover that you don’t even have to pull down the handle on the side of the machines… now all you hafta do is press a button. WHERE is the fun in a BUTTON. You don’t even get sore. And in my southpaw plight I am also upset that there were no left-handed friendly machines.

The major issue we had throughout the day was my father’s failure to take inflation into account. The last time he was in Atlantic City, it was in the late seventies. He and his father would each take $100 and be set for the day. Accordingly… he gave me $100 and brought about $300 for himself to use and to pay for the show and dinner and stuff. Uh. Yeah. My dad is a card man. Loves Blackjack. And I am the same way… I love card games and think that interacting with other people over a game is way more intriguing than playing slots. However… at all three casinos that we went to… the minimum bet for ONE hand was fifteen dollars. My dad was used to two dollar bets. Needless to say, we spent a lot of time debating over putting that much money up… but I have such excellent spider senses that I found a special low-bid section of blackjack that had a minimum $10 bet later in the evening. That was rad.

The highlights of the day were, by far, not the gambling, but the conversations we had during dinner and the car ride home. We weren’t able to catch a show because most of the box offices were closed… but we did catch a band playing and some street-type performers. We had dinner at the Hard Rock Café, and somehow we even managed to come across a Starbux. So I mean… we had to stop and get a drink. Heh.

We talked a bit about my dad’s use of the word “queer” in casual conversation. That was, ummn… lets just say that our neighboring diners definitely had something to entertain themselves with. We put on quite the show. We also talked about marriage and sex and my future and such… and I got to hear a lot of ridiculously funny stories about my dad growing up.

After we officially were in the hole about $100 we decided to head home. We accidentally took a 45 minute detour, but it was ok. I learned that I am a skilled, map-utilizing navigator, and that my father is not one of those men who won’t ask for directions. Plus, it gave us more time to talk. We talked about my singing and writing… about my ideas for future business ventures and even a little more about my parents’ divorce.

All in all… I could not have received a better belated burfday present.