High Rollin’

[The good thing about rock bottom is that you can only go up, right? Also, those feelings of jealousy you’re have over my glittery clutch… they are normal. I am usually way more flashy, but it was the casino, so I figured I would tone it down.]

Over the weekend, I traveled to my home town (Shreveport, LA) for the first time in almost half a year. Jazzy and I cruised on up to S-town early not early enough on Saturday. Our ride went a little like this:

• Miss McDonald’s breakfast by five minutes? Done.
• Configure my iPod plugger upper thingy in a secure position. Roger that.
• Get frusterated with epic static interferance. Yep.
• Re-rig Ipod connector looping it over the rear view mirror like fuzzy dice. There we go.
• Attempt to drive without a swinging Iphone smashing in to my window and/or face. Check.

Surprisingly we didn’t die from flying cell phone attacks or boredom. In fact, after three hours of trying to woo Pandora Radio to play period play what we wanted, we arrived feeling quite alive. Although I am not sure why, we were also feeling lucky. 

The Shreveport/ Bossier area basically consists of two attractions. Restaurants and casinos. If you ever need to gain weight and lose all your money, now you know where to go. You’re welcome. I will make one serious recommendation however, if you find yourself here, go to Superior Bar & Grill and get one of these:

Normally you will not want to attempt to gamble after one of these (one because that is all you will need, even if your tolerance defies the laws of intoxication like mine does). I didn’t heed this warning. So off to downtown we rode.

Upon arriving at the Eldorado Casino downtown, the first three penny machines we scouted robbed me of twenty dollars faster than the guy at the entrance asked me for my I.D. That picture of my one cent voucher’s purpose was to stand testament to my failure and remind me to never step foot on the casino floor again. Fortunately, Jazzy is quite the persuasive little firecracker and especially after those famous margaritas, “no” was no longer an acceptable word in her vocabulary.

Usually the outcome of a casino trip for me looks like this: I lose forty dollars and proceed to drown my sorrows in some loud bad music by the DJ booth, a Jim and Diet Coke, and mindless flirting with guys I’d never date. This time was different. Maybe its the red hair. I strutted out of that dinging flashing machine orgy 85 dollars richer and nixed the flirting. Jazzy left with nothing but me as her arm candy. She was truly the lucky one (yay sarcasm!).

That was my first-ever win at gambling. Smug yet carsick, I arrived back home yesterday afternoon to cook a Memorial Day feast with half pint and a friend of ours who is a drill sergeant in the army. We baked him a cake.

We ate all of the cake.All Posts

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