Cantankerousness

I'm thinking about pitching my own reality show. I'll call it Cantankerousness. No crazier than Ridiculousness (yes, I watch it) and that new show Amazingness (no, I don't).

Yes, blogfriends, Mrs. Hillbilly Mom has grown feisty lately. Not "Towanda!" levels of feistiness, but still more aggressive than her past persona. Funny how no longer having to be an unwilling role model can free one from the social mores of one's society.

My recent forays into standupforyourselfness have taken place at the casino. Farmer H has been volunteering to take me there weekly, to use my free play. Of course, he does not get as much free play as I, so I have to supplement his wagering. Anyhoo...it might come as no surprise to you that people have been pissing me off at the casino.

I sat down to play one of my regular machines, which is on the left end of a row of five. They're all the same kind of machine, and you can choose from four different games on them. An old lady was playing the machine on the right end, actually my preferred machine of this group, so I made do with second-best. Notice that I did not go down to her end and sit down right beside her. Nope. There were three machines between us. Which Old Lady managed to play in the space of about five minutes.

Uh huh. Old Lady was slot-machine-hopping, sitting down at one to play a few minutes, then moving closer to me on the next one, until she was right on top of me. Don't get me wrong. I've gone down a row of machines sometimes, just to see what will hit. But Old Lady camped out on my right. Just about grew roots into the carpet. I KNOW she was waiting for me to leave. Trying to run me off so she could play that last machine. But I'd had enough of her shenanigans.

Old Lady had gotten all talkative when she sat down there. I did not engage. I'm at the casino to gamble. Not to make new friends. Sometimes I'm counting in my head, planning my next move. I'm in the zone, and don't want to be wrenched out of my reverie. THEN Old Lady lit up a cigarette. It must have been the cheapest brand available, left in the glove box of farm truck parked in a hog lot for a couple decades, then towed to a desert junkyard, then discovered when Old Lady's great-grandson remodeled that farm truck. They were the most acrid cigarettes I had ever unwillingly inhaled.

I swear, Old Lady blew that smoke in my direction. She was like a real-life Popeye with the side of her face where her mouth opened. When that didn't work on me, Old Lady lit ANOTHER cigarette. I hit a little winner, and she commented, "Good one." Again. I did not engage. I knew her game. When she hit a big winner, she crowed about it, and looked right at me, waiting for me to compliment her. Nope. Not happenin'. In my hard-headedness, I actually played a little longer on that machine than I wanted to. Just to be cantankerous.

At another game, a big one, quite popular, I was sitting at the right side machine of three on a carousel. It's so hard to get those machines, I figured I was going to play it a good long time. The middle one, to my left, was vacated by a dude, and a younger dude sat down there. He kept trying to stuff a bill in it, and the machine kept spitting it back. Finally he hit the SERVICE button, and a worker came and told him that they needed to put it out of service, and the techs would be there shortly. Dude left, rather than wait for the fixing.

A feeble old lady sat down at it, even thought the screen was gray and said OUT OF SERVICE. She tried to put money in. I didn't say anything. I'm not a slot attendant, nor a slot tech. You live and learn. A lady on the other side told her that it wasn't working, so she left. And here came the fixers.

A guy tech stood by the machine, unlocked it, took out a drawer, and motioned for a gal tech to go ahead. I'd just hit the bonus on my machine, after ten minutes of feeding it money. Great. Now I couldn't enjoy it, being distracted by this two-ring circus performing beside me. THEN Guy Tech told me I needed to stop playing.

"I'm in the middle of a bonus. Just as soon as it's over."

"You don't have time to do that."

I wasn't quite sure what he was getting at.

"You mean I can't have my bonus? I'll leave, just as soon as my bonus is done."

"Just give us five minutes."

"Well, this bonus will be done in less than that."

I guess I am now a troublemaker. Because Guy Tech had summoned a THIRD worker to deal with me. She was a giant Amazon woman (as opposed to a dwarf Amazon woman) in dreadlocks, who looked like she could have moonlighted as a bouncer. She asked me politely to move so they had room to work.

"I can't finish my bonus?"

"Honey, you can finish your bonus. Just stand to the side. It won't take but a minute."

"OH! I thought they wanted me to stop playing. Sure." I got up and stood aside, and Amazon pulled my chair out of the way so Gal Tech could crawl under the machine and take out a black box thingy. Apparently, I am also a security risk, because Amazon stood in my line of sight so I couldn't see what they were doing. Made me no nevermind, because I was watching my bonus play out. Amazon even looked over her shoulder and commented that it was a nice bonus I had going. Yes. It was. Three figures. LOW three figures. Anyhoo...all they had to do was TELL ME that I could step aside to give them access. Those first two communicated like Farmer H, making me think they needed to shut down my machine because it was linked to the other one.

Speaking of Farmer H, he complained of people saving machines in his area of play.

"I see the one I want is empty, and then get there and I can't get to it."

"Yeah. They turn the chair around backwards and push it in. Then leave a cup on the console. I don't think they should be able to do that. People wait a long time to get some of these machines."

"I know. Or I've had them stretch their leg out on the one next to them. Or say someone is coming right back. I've a good mind to just spin that chair and sit down and say, 'Well, nobody is playing it NOW.' Cantankerousness material right there, our Farmer H.

I also messed with the looky-loos behind me, watching me play, waiting for me to get off that machine. I'd play it down low, with them thinking I was about out of money, and put more in. Or I'd hit a bonus and cash it out, them thinking I was leaving, only to feed it a smaller bill to continue. I didn't do that solely to mess with them. That's how I play. It's their misfortune that they were assuming. Cantankerousness, a happy accident.

I admit to racing a man across the casino to get to a machine that had just opened up. I was coming at the front of it, and he was opposite me. So I stretched out my arm, holding my player's card to insert, and beat him to the possession like a sprinter leaning for the tape. Cantankerousness in action.

You'd watch me on a reality show, right?