I wrote this and posted it last night for my friends on Facebook. I'm sure many of you can relate...
'Twas the night before Christmas in a Casino
By Joseph William Gauthier
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the casino
The action was hot, especially the keno;
The gamblers by the pit threw their dice by the pair,
In hopes the pit boss would comp their stay there.
The parents with grown children were all numb on their meds,
While visions of showgirls danced in their heads;
And mama in her little black dress, and I in my ironic hipster cap,
Had seen one too many gamblers taken for a ride playing craps.
When out of the nightclub there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my slot machine to see what was the matter.
Away from the progressive I flew like a flash,
Tore out my player's card and took out my cash.
The sound of coins dropping and the warm slot machine glow,
Gave a lustre of winning when collecting even less of my dough.
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But an entourage of eight tiny elves drinking beer.
With a little old gambler so lively and quick,
I knew it must be Senior's Day and he was St. Nick.
More rapid than resort fees, his gaming it came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and then made it rain.
"Now, Bingo! now, Poker! now Blackjack and Pai Gow!
On Baccarat, on Roulette, let's gamble right now!
To the top of my credit line! From a wallet too small!
Now cash away! cash away! cash away all!"
As thieves that before casino security do lie,
When they meet with a camera, mount to the sky;
So up to the ceiling his debts, how they grew,
With his sleigh as collateral, at the craps table he threw--
And then, in a twinkling, the crowd raised the roof,
His luck turned around with a pile of chips as the proof.
As I threw my own dice in my head, and was turning around,
St. Nicholas's scooter came towards me with a beeping sound.
He was dressed all in kitsch, from his head to his foot,
And he smelled like a casino, full of ashes and soot.
A bundle of comps he held tight in his fist,
And he smiled, a whale the casino owner kissed.
His pinkie ring -- how it twinkled! His grill how merry!
His headlights were like neon, his scooter so cherry!
The goatee on his chin was as white as the snow;
And we were kindred spirits, his ironic nod let me know.
His platinum player's card he held tight underneath,
Attached to a lanyard that encircled his neck on a sheath.
We looked for the buffet together and he patted his belly,
But all that was close was the sports book with a deli.
He was so jolly and plump and took a selfie of himself,
But accidentally texted it to us instead of some elf.
A wink of his eye and we knew the casino would comp dinner,
But first he spotted a new game that looked like a sure winner.
He spoke not a word, but played for hours like work,
And he tipped all the dealers; even the jerk,
And playing his last dollar of the night I suppose,
And giving a nod, up from his seat at the table, he rose;
He gave us his comps, to his entourage of drunk elves gave a whistle,
And to the next casino they left like a National Atomic Testing Museum missile.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he rolled out of sight—
“Happy Casino Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
'Twas the night before Christmas in a Casino
By Joseph William Gauthier
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the casino
The action was hot, especially the keno;
The gamblers by the pit threw their dice by the pair,
In hopes the pit boss would comp their stay there.
The parents with grown children were all numb on their meds,
While visions of showgirls danced in their heads;
And mama in her little black dress, and I in my ironic hipster cap,
Had seen one too many gamblers taken for a ride playing craps.
When out of the nightclub there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my slot machine to see what was the matter.
Away from the progressive I flew like a flash,
Tore out my player's card and took out my cash.
The sound of coins dropping and the warm slot machine glow,
Gave a lustre of winning when collecting even less of my dough.
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But an entourage of eight tiny elves drinking beer.
With a little old gambler so lively and quick,
I knew it must be Senior's Day and he was St. Nick.
More rapid than resort fees, his gaming it came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and then made it rain.
"Now, Bingo! now, Poker! now Blackjack and Pai Gow!
On Baccarat, on Roulette, let's gamble right now!
To the top of my credit line! From a wallet too small!
Now cash away! cash away! cash away all!"
As thieves that before casino security do lie,
When they meet with a camera, mount to the sky;
So up to the ceiling his debts, how they grew,
With his sleigh as collateral, at the craps table he threw--
And then, in a twinkling, the crowd raised the roof,
His luck turned around with a pile of chips as the proof.
As I threw my own dice in my head, and was turning around,
St. Nicholas's scooter came towards me with a beeping sound.
He was dressed all in kitsch, from his head to his foot,
And he smelled like a casino, full of ashes and soot.
A bundle of comps he held tight in his fist,
And he smiled, a whale the casino owner kissed.
His pinkie ring -- how it twinkled! His grill how merry!
His headlights were like neon, his scooter so cherry!
The goatee on his chin was as white as the snow;
And we were kindred spirits, his ironic nod let me know.
His platinum player's card he held tight underneath,
Attached to a lanyard that encircled his neck on a sheath.
We looked for the buffet together and he patted his belly,
But all that was close was the sports book with a deli.
He was so jolly and plump and took a selfie of himself,
But accidentally texted it to us instead of some elf.
A wink of his eye and we knew the casino would comp dinner,
But first he spotted a new game that looked like a sure winner.
He spoke not a word, but played for hours like work,
And he tipped all the dealers; even the jerk,
And playing his last dollar of the night I suppose,
And giving a nod, up from his seat at the table, he rose;
He gave us his comps, to his entourage of drunk elves gave a whistle,
And to the next casino they left like a National Atomic Testing Museum missile.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he rolled out of sight—
“Happy Casino Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
