My Week at the Casino

By Nancy White

My Week At The Casino is based around the author’s first week at Casino where she worked. It is based around a week she spent at home with her mother, it had been years since she had been home and the first time she had worked at any casino. This book gives an account of events starting from the first thing that took place to the conversations on the tables, and every individual that was of interest. This book gives an insight of what goes on behind the scenes because people only know what is placed in front of them. This book will have you hanging on the edge of your seat with its mystery filled, dramatized pages.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664167186

Nancy White

Nancy White is a blogger, freelance writer and marketing communications professional. She is on the advisory board for Jax Truckies and has been chronicling the food scene in Jacksonville on her blog Nourish the Beast since 2005. She has over twenty-five years experience in marketing communications, publications and sales promotion.

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Copyright © 2021 by Nancy White.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 04/05/2021

Xlibris

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Contents

Introduction

Day One

Day Two

Day Three

Day Four

Day Five

Day Six

My Last Day Home

Introduction

My Week at the Casino is a story based on a week that I spent at home with my mother. It had been years since I had been home, and it was my first time at any casino. This book gives an account of events starting from the first thing that takes place to the conversations on the table games and every individual that was of interest. No one really knows what goes on behind the scenes; only what is placed right in front of them. Today, I would like to share my experience with you all.

Day One

My first day at home in Smarts, Colorado, started out to be one of the best days of my life. Coming into Smarts brought back a lot of memories. For as long as I have known this little town, it has always been extremely hot in the winter. The town has only one entertainment now, and that is the casino. Well, I take that back; there is still the love for golf.

Hello, Mr. Bradford. I see that old goat is still hanging around. His daughter Ella Mae was sent to prison for five years for raping a female student in our senior year of school. Ella Mae really wasn’t too good in applying rejection. I guess that was why she received added years to her sentence for beating a prisoner to death, for not accepting, as she stated, her lovely friendship.

Just seeing my old house for the first time in sixteen years brought tears to my eyes. No, it didn’t, for I was glad to get away from my crazy mother. However, it was my mother who thought it would be a good idea for me to leave Smarts. Being away from Smarts for over sixteen years made me question the way things was done then. If my mother was to hear me now, she would curse the day I was born.

Every child had things about their life they hated. The mandated lunches with the ladies of society and the needed sewing to take up the womenfolk’s spare time were the worst. But living in the East had given me a new look at freedom. Even though my job gives me a sense of being, returning to Smarts reverses my train of thought.

Mother, I am home. Damn, where is everybody?

I thought for sure if anyone wanted to see me, it would be my own mother. Thank God the locks have not been changed. My room was just like I left it. My mother should be shot. In sixteen years, there were still clothes lying across the bed, shoes thrown across the floor, and the curtain that was torn still hanging up. I guess she was a woman of her word when she told me to clean up my mess. Well, I don’t have time to clean it now, for my bed is calling me. A few hours of sleep, and I will be able to take it all on. Now, let’s first find my dear old bed.

Waking up with clothes all over me and a shoe in my mouth, I fell off the bed to the floor. I have been asleep for six hours. That drive really did a number on me. You know next time, I think I would fly. Still, the house seemed dead. Mother still wasn’t home, and I was hungry enough to eat a horse. I decided to get dressed and go down to the casino for supper. With this clutter in my room, I would just wear what I have on.

Talking about eating somewhere, I think first I needed to find out where that somewhere is. I was sure my mother would have a newspaper around here. The phonebook was sure to have the listing of the casino. Now that I have the address, casino, here I come. I really wanted to see Mother before I headed out to the casino; however, this will give us something to talk about tonight.

Now where is this place? There were hardly any signs to give you direction. There it was. From the outside, it seemed as if it was a regular old boat. The Colorado River was much quieter than it had been in years and even the water level has dropped. To get the full effect of the view, I decided to ride the bus down to the casino instead of having the car valet parked.

I could not believe how many people were standing at the turning area waiting for the bus. There were people of all ages cramming to be first to board that shuttle. Wow, this is the place for me. Now I am speaking out of turn. The first shuttle was full, so I decided to take a seat. Look there is old Mr. Kerry. This man could talk you out of your soul if you let him. Before I could say hello, Mr. Kerry started talking about a civil case from yesterday. From the conversation, it was about Mrs. Price and her sitter Mrs. Campbell. Somehow Mrs. Campbell fell in Mrs. Price’s courtyard and broke her ankle. Now Mrs. Price said that she would pay for her sitter while she was in the hospital out of town but not while she was at home for she had her daughters to look after her. To make a long story short, Mrs. Campbell decided to sue Mrs. Price for $350,000 in damages. However, the jury went in the favor of Mrs. Price for Mrs. Campbell could not prove her case. Mrs. Campbell claimed to have fallen in a hole in the courtyard while picking a plant for Mrs. Price. No one was there when she fell, and she gave the jury three different stories of how she fell. I take it that Mr. Kerry was one of the jury members for he was so full of himself.

Walking off from that conversation, there was one customer that caught my attention the most. He was complaining about the shuttle taking so long to return. This man complained just about anything and everything. However, there was something he stated that got my attention. Was it true that certain casino dealers are on the take and for the right price they would help you win? At this point my job training kicked in. No one in Smarts would probably remember me and no one at home really knew exactly what my job description was, for my mother refused to tell her friends what that really entails. My job was totally against the society’s view of things. There was no way in hell that Mrs. Frances Scott’s daughter could be a cop.

The shuttle had finally arrived and now I can get some supper. When we got off the shuttle, there was a steep hill that goes down to the casino. The entrance to the casino looked old and outdated. The security guards talked among themselves. There was one that focused on a woman’s ass for five minutes, as I was trying to ask a question, just look over my ass completely. So I decided to draw his attention. Excuse me, Brain, I have an ass too if you stop and look. To my surprise, Brain stated that my butt was not like that. You’re all right, but baby’s got back. Hell, I have never been so insulted like that before.

Oh my god, it smells of nothing but smoke in this casino. How is one to consume air in this damn place? Oh, miss, can you tell me where the nonsmoking area is please? This woman gave me a look like I’m out of this world. After a minute of looking at me like I was crazy, she told me there was not one. No, she didn’t say it that way. She said, Lady, there isn’t one, and do I look like your damn maid or something? And I, being me, told her ass that she could have told me that without the freaking attitude and walked off.

I saw the customer from the shuttle sitting at the blackjack table, so I proceeded that way.

Hello, nice to meet you again, sir.

The dealer at the table laughed and said, Mr. Brown, that woman is talking to you.

Hell, I don’t know her.

Pissed at both their asses, I decided to sit down.

How do you play this game, Carol?

Just place your damn money up there, she’ll show you.

Number on, Mr. Brown. I was talking to the dealer and not your ass.

I placed a hundred in twenties on the table. The dealer’s reaction became cold and hostile. After Carol changed my money, I decided to watch for a while.

A lady at the end of the table was complaining about her family and how they were treating her mother. I felt that the lady should have been cut off, yet the waitress kept bringing the gin and juice. She said that her mother was old and that her daughter has forbidden anyone to the house except her friends. That the girl refuses to pay the rent, bills, and even keeps her own daughter from going to school. What kind of shit is that? I felt sorry for her, but a casino is really not the place to put your heart out to anyone. If her daughter’s name is on the lease then there isn’t much she can do.

Now, wait a minute, that dealer just gave Mr. Brown an extra card. But when he laid his cards on the table, he only had three cards. After the hand was finished, the dealer took up the cards. But I was sure he had four cards in his hand. The second thing that caught my eye was the way the dealer shuffled. Carol would strip, shuffle, strip, shuffle, and then cut. Each hand Mr. Brown got was either straight flush or three of a kind. I asked the dealer why he got paid so much for one hand. Carol told me that this is the poker table and not the blackjack table. I realized that we were not on a blackjack table, but there were still things she was doing that did not seem right.

After a minute or two, Carol explained that each customer is given three cards only. Then she went into how the bets were paid. Carol stated that the yellow circle had to be paid if a customer has a pair, flush, straight, three of a kind, or a straight flush. The back bet the player is playing against the dealer. Then again she could be right for this is my first time seeing this game anywhere.

After watching for the past five hands, I began to play. I could hear my stomach growling, but I just had this feeling. Mr. Brown had started to get some bad hands. Losing the last six of them, he suggested that I get the hell up. The supervisor who posted herself at the table thought that shit was so funny. Her name was Blain and from the looks of her, she was white trash. Her English was poor, she couldn’t count, and she looked as if life has really taken a toll on her. The dealer was wearing a wig that was cut short to her head. I have seen a lot of African American women, yet I still say her wig needed a perm.

In my sixth hand, I hit a straight flush.

Mr. Brown had a fit. Goddammit, that was to be my hand. What the hell’s wrong with you, Carol? See you just prevented yourself from getting a big bar of candy.

After Carol gave me the chips for the flush, Mr. Brown decided to sit out. In the next three hands, I hit a three of a kind. Mr. Brown protested again. He claimed the dealer did not wash the cards after she paid me and that someone needed to call the camera. Before I knew it, I yelled, You old sack of shit! Then I pushed the rest of my chips to be colored up.

As I was leaving the table, a black man approached me at the table. He told me that Mr. Brown was mean as hell, and that he has never liked to see anyone else win other than himself. I told the gentleman thank you then left the freaking table. I took my chips to the cage, but I decided not to cash out all of them. Leaving the cage, I saw that there was another dealer at