The Year of Yes

We’re Betting on Yes!

I almost said no. It was 6:30 and I was already in my pajamas.* I had never been to a casino, but I knew that it has never been my idea of a good time. I just didn’t get it. It’s what other people do. And I don’t have money to lose.

Grace sweetened the deal by offering a hundred bucks to play with.

The Old Jenny voice said, “Oh, no, I couldn’t do that.”

But then the New Jenny voice said, “Yes. You could. And should.”

I agreed. With one condition: that we both wear feather boas.

Two hours later, we were barreling down I-95. I wasn’t even sure where we were going or what to expect. But I knew it was better than the two of us sitting on our asses and grousing about our problems. By 10pm, we were acclimating to the din and smokey air of Foxwoods.

Grace’s initial luck at craps was steady. I merely observed. A ritual developed where every time she won a bet, I had to do “The Boa Dance” (which was really more of a shimmy, and not what is seen in the above video). The boas were a hit and I became a favorite of the dealers and waitresses. By the time we walked over to MGM Grand, I was feeling confident enough to play.

Now I know what it feels like to throw $100 away. It’s one thing to watch and know what to do, it’s another thing to actually be in the game because HOLY SHIT MONEY I AM LOSING NOW SHIMMYING NO HELP BAAAAAAH! But I did get to throw the dice, which was thrilling.

It was then that I decided that Grace’s luck was better served by me simply standing there and being cute. We hit a hot table and she won back what I lost and then some. We quit at 2am and dragged our asses home. Head hit the pillow shortly before 4.

Woke up feeling like a thousand smokers exhaled directly into my face for four hours. Gack. And, uh, hungover? Though I didn’t have much to drink? Eh. I’m back to spending the day in my pajamas. Whether that involves staying in bed and watching a Mad Men Season 3 marathon remains to be seen. Trader Joe’s tamale consumption is on the to-do list. Toenail-painting might happen. Napping may be inevitable.

Last night, when Grace proposed this idea, it was one of those moments when I had to confront the big wall I sometimes put up between me and the world based on my own poor assumptions. One part defense-mechanism, one part pure snobbery, it keeps me from accessing some truly valuable experiences. So I’m learning to shush that Old Jenny voice and to not be so quick about putting up that wall.

I was going to finish this post with a cheesy gambling reference like taking a chance and placing that bet. I might have said something about odds or going all in? But, no. I don’t think I will. Better to quit while I’m ahead.

*It’s fair to point out here that I had been in my pajamas all day. Because it was that kind of day.