Chips

Twelve dollars. God dammit. Barely enough money for food, let alone get a room for the night. Even if I just cash this in it isn’t going to make a dent in my credit card payments. I feel sick. How am I supposed to come back from this? Do I claw my way out by flipping burgers? Do I slave away in some cubicle for the next twenty years? Is it even worth it to try? I’ve never seriously considered offing myself but I’ve also never been this close to losing everything. Only two people would notice that I’m gone, and I’m sure whatever grief they’d have would turn to relief within a few days. No, this isn’t how this ends. Fuck getting a job and fuck credit card debt. The twelve singles in my hand are not a death sentence. I have an opportunity to make this right, everything just has to be perfect. Tomorrow will present its own series of problems but that’s life, right?

“Double or nothing.” I grin as I slam the remainder of my savings in front of me. All of the bad thoughts in my head dissipate, along with all of the problems waiting for me on the other side of the casino doors. The dealer shoots me a surprised look.

“Again? After all that? Why don’t you come back tomor-”

“Just do your job and deal the fucking cards, please.”

The dealer bites his tongue and slides a card across the table. Damn, it’s an eight. My least lucky number.

“Hit me.” I belch. I have one hell of a buzz. Next time I’m here I’ll just have three cocktails so that I’m not so pressed for cash. Another card slides next to the eight and my heart sinks. I hate twos almost as much as I hate eights, they ruin a good run every time. No, don’t think like a loser, just push through this. Come on, just this once, I silently pray to myself as I tap twice on the table. Another card hits the table and my heart nearly explodes out of my chest. An ace, in the right place at the right time. Excitement gets the better of me and I leap from my chair, screaming expletives as I throw the rest of a rye manhattan down my throat. The dealer sighs as he hands me four chips. I could double this again, but the bouncers didn’t seem to enjoy my performance as much as I did.

“Don’t worry guys. I’m on my way out.” I chuckle as I stumble away from the table. This has been an awesome night, even if my bank account disagrees.

I light up a Marlboro as I approach the cashier’s cage. The kid behind the bars is a good friend of mine. Well, we’re friendly.

“You’re in a better mood than last night.” he says to me.

“I had a good time.” I smile as I toss him my chips, “Plus, it wasn’t a complete loss.”

“You’re built different, man. You must have some deep pockets or a trust fund or something.”

“I get by.”

“Sure, if that’s what you want to call it.”

“Do you talk to all of your patrons that way? Could take my business anywhere else. Vegas is a big place.”

“Anywhere except MGM.”

“Oh. You heard about that?”

“Yeah, from you. Last night. You share a lot about your life after happy hour.”

My pocket vibrates, I check my phone and the text message I’ve been dreading all night is staring back at me.

Hurry up. She’s going to be late.

“Alright Pete, I hear you. Let’s not dwell on the past, just cash me out.”

The sunrise blinds me as I step outside. I hate being back in the world. Sure I have some rough nights where I’m down a couple grand but nothing goes right for me out here. Sometimes winning a hand of blackjack is all I need. Finding my car takes longer than usual but I get there in the end. My head is pounding, my blood alcohol content must be pretty high but I’ve driven under worse conditions. I turn onto the freeway and go ten over the speed limit until I reach the suburbs, swerving through the neighborhood streets until I reach a dead end. A house is tucked away at the end of the street, next to a storm drain. It’s nothing special, just some beige box with a tattered red roof and some shitbox sedan sitting out front. It feels so unfamiliar, even after two years.

As I pull up to the driveway and a woman in nurse scrubs scurries by the window. Hope she doesn’t talk to me this time, I still have liquor on my breath. The front door opens and a little girl rushes out in front of her. The woman and I just stare at each other while our daughter runs to me. I don’t really know her anymore, but we tolerate each other for our kid’s sake. I’m fine with this arrangement but that doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable. You spend four years with a person and it gets reduced whatever this is in half the time. My daughter swings the car door open, her face beaming with happiness.

“Hi, dad!”

“Hey pumpkin, you ready for school?”

“Mom said you have to get me breakfast since she has to go to work early.”

Oh. That’s not the greatest news I’ve ever received.

“We can grab some food, just make sure you’re buckled up.”

We get back on the road until the golden arches come into view. I pull into the drive-thru and place an order for a kid’s meal. I would eat if I could, but she deserves the food more than I do. It feels good to provide, even if it’s just fast food. I can’t change who I am or how I live, but at least I can offer her this. An employee holding our food swings the window open as we approach.

“Good morning sir! Your total for today is twelve dollars.”