A Story – Under a Harvest Moon (Part 2)

Last week we left our elderly couple outside the El Cortez pondering their next move.  They actually were surprising themselves by feeling perky and even a little adventurous.  So instead of calling Uber and heading home for a usual early bedtime, they decided to head a block south.  The Fremont East area was only moderately crowded at this early evening time, but they knew all those bars would be hopping later. However, they started encountering heavy crowds once they crossed Las Vegas Boulevard and entered under the Fremont Experience canopy.

The Heart Attack Grill in the Neonopolis building was full of diners dressed in hospital gowns.  Although the couple had passed it before in former visits, it still amused but didn’t attract their business.  The old man commented, “I’ve had one heart attack – don’t need another! And that goes for riding the zipline too.”

However, close by, a new food outlet since their last downtown visit did attract their attention, a memory jolt-back to their days living in Indianapolis where they would often head to a White Castle restaurant for a late-night fast-food snack favorite.  Although there had been some food at the cocktail party, one can always eat a couple of these little sandwiches anytime, so they stopped in.  The man parked his walker beside a tall stool to enjoy a rest, while the lady stood in the long line to order.  When she got to the cashier, she ordered just like she had done for decades – “burgers,” – refusing to call them the fancy new name of “sliders.”  A White Castle is not a slider!

On they went down the street, stopping to enjoy some of the sidewalk entertainers performing in their assigned “circles.”  They were pleasantly surprised that they were, on the whole, in good taste, not the crude or skimpily dressed presentations they had had seen in past years – at least those they saw on their brief walk on just part of the street. The couples energy level was going down fast – and progress had come almost to a stand-still because they were running into a packed-in raucous crowd in front of the 3^rd Street stage where a very loud band performance was going on.  The man was muttering, “They call that noise music?”

“Should we duck into the D Casino and discuss what we want to do next?” asked the woman.

The man quickly agreed, “Anything to get out of this pandemonium.”

Resting at slot machine seats, the lady pulled out from her purse their LVA coupon books and found the D coupons:  “Two $25 matchplays.  Should we do these?”  It would involve finding a ramp for the man’s walker to get up to the raised players club to activate the offer, but he was re-gaining a little strength and said he was up to it.

Back down on the casino floor walking amongst the table games, they discussed whether to use the matchplays on roulette, where their loss on this one-shot play would be limited to $50.  If they chose blackjack, they could lose $50 if they lost both coupons – and even more if they had to double-down and/or split.  But as they were discussing this, they passed by a blackjack table where a jovial lone player noticed their indecision and gave a loud invitation as he pointed to sloppily scattered piles of green and black chips in front of him, “Come sit with me.  This is a lucky table.”

Now this couple had been looking for an uncrowded table.  When using a coupon for a one-time play, you don’t want a bunch of players ready to complain about your “holding up a game.”  But here was just one player and he wanted  company.  And you never know, a cheery inebriated player was just as apt to give you a lucky tip as a stone-cold sober grouch.  So, the couple sat down, each putting out $25 with the phantom $25 chip given to them at the players club.  Each was dealt a “9” and a “2” and the dealer turned up a “6” – that added risk they had discussed.   But there was no way they wouldn’t double down!

The woman whispered to the man, who had the bankroll in his pocket, “Get out a $100 bill.”  When the dealer gave him four green chips, the woman quickly grabbed them and added $50 to each hand.  Sometimes when you do this fast, the dealer will then give you a card right away.  Sad to say, this time it didn’t work. “Sorry, you can double only on your own money.”  Well, it never hurts to try when you don’t know the casino policy on this.

The disappointment didn’t last long, however.  She slapped a face card on each of the couple’s hands, and then pulled a face card and another “6” on her hand.  She smiled as she paid off, and the intoxicated cheerleader fellow player gave them both high-fives, laughing boisterously.

The couple didn’t really like this kind of hit and run, but while they were coloring up explained that they had to get back to their machines, that they really weren’t good at table games – perhaps only a partial truth.  But this excuse was good enough for a smile from the dealer after the man slid her a $5 tip as they were leaving.

Now it was time to proceed down Fremont, pressing through that concert mob – a pretty slow process with a walker although much of the friendly crowd was thoughtful to step aside and make way for the oldsters.  They wanted to get to the Four Queens, their old stomping grounds so many year ago.  Actually, back then the woman had been memorized with other VIP players with her name on the cement sidewalk in the front of the casino.  But fame is fleeting – and all those sidewalks have now been torn up for new more modern renovations.

Did the couple want to go in and look around, maybe use their two $10 free-play coupons? They looked at each other’s tired eyes. They were thinking about protecting that $150 profit from the D and $5 from the El Cortez.  Their muscles and bones were making a strong bid for a major rest.  And a nearby security guide was ready with directions for the nearby share-ride pickup area, in front of the entrance to the Binion’s garage, just a half a block up Casino Center Boulevard.  Some things never change – a few pedestrians were still taking their lives in their hands and crossing this traffic-heavy street against the light.

It was time for the ending of a perfect evening.  An unexpected $155 in their pocket.  And a big bright full Harvest Moon lighting the Uber ride back home as they snuggled in the back seat thinking of how they were still making happy Las Vegas memories.