Monday, April 16, 2018

Lest You Assume That I Exaggerate

Seriously. There is a black cloud hanging over me. Saturday, it was an ACTUAL black cloud. Not a figurative black cloud. The closer we got to the casino, the lower and blacker that cloud appeared. Until the very last minute, when the rain slacked off, so we had hope, and bypassed the FREE valet parking.

Yes, Farmer H swove us to the casino to see if we had our Rewards Offer doubled. The promo says it will be doubled on two Saturdays in April. Then it gave us a HINT, nudge-nudge, right there in maroon-and-white on the mailer, that the first of these two doubling days would be April 7th. We went last Saturday, and the doubling DID happen. Farmer H got $20 free play, and I got $50 free play.

Of course Farmer H and I are pretty savvy customers, so we figure that the next double-day will be the LAST Saturday of the month. Just so the casino can drag you in there with doubling hopes the other two Saturdays. Still, we went to the casino on Saturday. We got in the habit while harvesting our FREE luggage those four Saturdays in March. Anyhoo... our Rewards offer was not doubled on Saturday. Nor did we win the Mercedes for a year. No big deal. We were still at a casino, with money to play, and nothing but time.

And also with a powerful thirst.

Farmer H had been selling in his Storage Unit Store all morning, and I was dried out from withholding liquids so I wouldn't have to stop on the hour drive there, having taken my blood pressure meds before leaving. We went our separate ways once inside, but each with plans to go by one of the free soda fountains before settling down to play.

First of all, don't got thinking the black cloud is about losing, because we always go in with the expectation of losing some or all of our money that we took. And this day was no exception. No, the black cloud was just from simple everyday interactions that could have gone better. Like at the soda fountain.

The place was teeming with old people, and the soda fountain was a prime watering hole. I think there were four people ahead of me. It's on the wall, with the ends of several slot rows across from it. There's not much room to get by if you're walking down the wall of the casino. People were grabbing a cup, filling it with ice, getting their beverage, and moving along. It was a one-way flow. No room for two-way traffic. While we were waiting, other people shouldered their way past us, going from one area to the other.

The old white-haired man in front of me got his soda, and then turned to SWIM UPSTREAM! I had people behind me in line. People passing by my left shoulder to get by. There was NO ROOM for this guy. He faced me, and glared like I was the one in the wrong! SWEET GUMMI MARY! I had nowhere to go. I guess he was going to stare everyone down until he got out of our line playing chicken one person at a time.

Seriously. I don't cotton to crap like that. I did NOT move for him. Mainly because, as I've stated, I had nowhere to go. White Hair stood at my right shoulder area, in the little alcove afforded by the wastebasket. When I had enough elbow room on my left to move forward, I did, so I could get past White Hair to the soda fountain.

There's always one, isn't there. One person who has to upset the apple cart. Demand special treatment. Refuses to go with the flow. I hope somebody bumped him, and spilled his FREE soda. Not so it got all over his pants in an embarrassing area, though that would have been like icing on a sweet, sweet cake. But only because I wish he had to go back through the line to get another FREE soda.

I've vengeful like that.

Oh, yeah. Farmer H and I ordered our burgers. Both the same way. Medium. With onions and pickles. Farmer H also got pepperjack cheese on his. When the burgers were served, Farmer H's was done just the way he ordered. Medium. Pink and juicy. Mine was well-done. It had the consistency and taste of sawdust. Even though I don't eat sawdust. I'm pretty sure I won't need to now in order to describe the taste. "Oh, you know. It's just like a well-done Burger Brothers hamburger."

I'm like Pigpen, hygienically-challenged friend of Charlie Brown. But with a dark cloud, not a dust cloud.


Sioux Roslawski said...

Or like Eeyore. Doesn't he have a proverbial cloud above him?

River said...

How is it possible for identical ordered burgers to arrive so differently cooked?? Something is going very wrong there.

Hillbilly Mom said...

I don't know my Eeyore. Maybe it's better to be compared to a donkey/a$$ than a pig?

I know, right? I told Farmer H, "I think they just ask how you want your burger as a formality, and then cook it however they want."