thanked the clerk and headed through the open archway into the Casino.

As I said, Casinos were not my thing, but if that’s what it took to get a drink around here, I would play along with it. I didn’t want any part of the tables, since I didn’t understand card games or roulette, so I settled in at the first slot machine that was open. There was a really cute guy walking around with a tray of chips, so I beckoned to him and he came over and sold me a couple of rolls for the slot machine. He was REALLY cute – about my age (mid-20’s), about my height (6’0”) with short, curly dark hair, handsome but masculine face, bright blue eyes to set off the dark curls, and big, broad shoulders holding up the leather straps of his chip tray. Maybe I was imagining it, but I think his hand lingered a bit on mine as he handed me the chips. I asked him to send over a cocktail waitress, and he said, “Oh, I’ll bring it for you – I don’t mind. What would you like?”

I said, “Long Island Iced Tea – big, tall, and strong, just like you, and keep ‘em coming.” He grinned at that, showing even white teeth set off by his dark-olive skin, and sweet dimples in his cheeks. He even blushed a little, which made him cuter still.

I knew basically how slot machines worked – you put in a token, pulled the handle, and hoped all three of something came up. I fed it three tokens and, just as the chip guy came back with my drink, to my surprise, three cherries came up. Well – you’d have thought the world ended – bells, whistles, sirens, flashing lights, and a big booming voice over the Casino PA system, “Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a Winner!” There was a dazzling spotlight on me, and the slot machine was pouring chips, so many that they were spilling out of the basket by the chute and onto the floor. The chip guy handed me my drink and said, “Wow! You hit big! Congratulations!”

I grinned back at him – he was really happy, his bright blue eyes danced – and I said, “You must be my lucky charm!” He blushed again, and I thought, “Nobody real is this cute – he’s probably a real bastard – or another mama’s boy – or worse yet, straight as an arrow.” I asked, “What’s your name? I’m Shane.”

“Shane – that’s a great name. I’m Marco. Let me go get a cart for all this.” Meaning the chips, which were scattered everywhere. A couple of people walked by and surreptitiously scooped up one or two, either for good luck, or just common thievery. I was too surprised at my sudden windfall to care much.

I took a couple of hits off my drink and turned back to the machine. Three chips later and damned if it didn’t happen again – three bananas this time (Cherries and bananas? Was that an omen?). Same hoopla all over again