Tales From Leg 4

Big ups to the DoD! I know it has been a long time since we last met, but I have been super busy! I did my last post from Indiana (what a hellhole), but now I am safely ensconced in my new home in Hoey Hall Room 411. I have a roommate named Twyla Harrison, and she's such a sweet thing...we'll get to her on another post. I wanted to update you on the happenings from the rest of my trip.

When we last spoke, I left Manhattan, KS after bumping uglies with a Ph.D. from Kansas State (he was so cute). After leaving Manhattan, I made my way east on US 24 and dropped down to I-70 in Lawrence. I swung by the campus of the University of Kansas...it was really nice. If you're ever in Lawrence and need some time to kill, I recommend going to the museum of natural history on the KU campus. It's aces! I sailed through Kansas City and headed for St. Louis. I saw some billboards for Harrah's Casino in St. Louis and figured, what the heck? D-Licious could always use a little extra cheddah, plus I love to play blackjack. The place was swanky-danky indeed! I had to sign up for a "membership" to gamble and they gave me my own Harrah's card (whatever happened to good old cash money on the barrel head getting the job done?). In order to stay off the "grid," I used my fake ID. I have a driver's license from an unnamed western state that shows my name to be Kelly Kapowski (from Saved by the Bell fame) and put down $500 in cash for my account. I got a kick out of it when the clerk at the membership counter said "good luck at the tables, Ms. Kapowski." I hit her with a devastating smile...that's how I roll.


I made my way over to the quarter slots first. I like to warm up by losing about $50 at the slots to get my mojo working. It's a proven fact that once you are down a little bit to the casino, the casino security (I like to call them the "eye in the sky") alerts a pit boss or two to send in the free drink hoochies to keep you on a losing streak. Then they also send over the rep to get you into a higher stakes game because of your "honored guest" status. Well, that doesn't work on my for a couple of reasons:

1. I'm a drunk. I actually function better with 1.5-4.5 oz of alcohol in my system. I concentrate better, work up the odds in my noggin and take better calculated risks, and bluff like a champ.
2. I cheat. When I was living in Africa, I had a friend named Jambo Amin that taught me how to count cards up to a 5-deck shoe. It's not a particularly valuable skill in Africa, but it came in hand on weekend runs to Vegas or the payday poker games we had when I was still at Boise State.
3. I'm handicapped. If I get in a rut, I can throw a fit about how the casino is taking unfair advantage of the disabled. I always get ejected from the casino, but not before I get a few hundred in hush money and a free buffet.

True to form, after losing some cheese-erino, a large pair of boobs on skinny legs came by and offered me a drink...I went with 7 & 7. I switched to the video blackjack machine to get my head right before moving over to the tables. I made sure to lose another $30 and the hooter patrol came back and I got 7 & 7 number two. Then the clouds started to part and I could feel myself easing into the zone. After another 20 minutes I had won back the $30 plus the $50 from the slots...it was go time. I strolled over to the blackjack tables and started watching the dealers. I always have the best luck with dealers that are either balding white males or Filipino women. I was in luck, because I spotted a gal named Lucy from Southeast Asia. I made my way over to her table; there were 4 other saps there. The minimum bet per hand was $25...just my kind of game.

I won't bore you with the details of each hand, but I let myself get down early, to make the eye in the sky think they had a red herring on their hands. I made stupid bets, hit on 18, downed another 7 & 7, stuff like that. When I got down to my last $50, I started winning. I acted all surprised, clapped my hands with glee, said "Golly, my luck must be turning around. I've had nothing but bad luck since my Harvey, God rest his soul, died 2 years ago when he got run over by a combine." That elicits sympathy from the other players and it gets in their head. They start losing and rooting for me even more each time that I would win. I started doubling down, betting big and coming through. I always made sure to lose every now and again to make it look good for the eye in the sky. After about 3 hours at the table, I was up $5700. That's when I made my fatal error. I usually limit myself to stopping after being at the table 3 hours or winning $5000. After you get above that, the eye in the sky runs a check on your ID.

Well you guessed it, when they ran a check on Kelly Kapowski, it came back as a fake. If I had left at the $5000 mark, I could have walked out of the casino scott free. Instead, Bugsy and Izzy the Nose escorted me to see the "manager." The manager hits me with the "You've done very well at the tables tonight, Ms., Kapowski, is it?" I fix him with a cold stare. "Yes, I've done pretty well. Justy lucky, I guess." He shifts in his chair "How long have you been away from (insert unnamed western satte here), Ms. Kapowski?" My heart started pounding in my ears "A couple of weeks. I'm on vacation." He smiles a thin-lipped smile. "That's interesting, Ms. Kapowski. I took the liberty of reviewing your membership. Since you were doing so well, I wanted to upgrade your status that would allow you to have some comps at all of our Harrah's casinos around the world. Did you know what I found out?" I forced myself to take a deep breath, and smile. "You found out that I am a sexy lady with a prosthesis that does not in any way reduce my sexiness, and you also found out that I once beat a man to death in front of his mother?" He paused as that one hit home. "Well, no, Ms. Kapowski. I found out that in fact that there is no Kelly Kapowski that is a resident of (insert unnamed western state here), and that the identification card you used was a fake. So you can see that puts me in a rather delicate situation. I cannot have members that use false identification to get gambling credentials, nor can I disburse money from the casino to someone who may or may not be a wanted murderer, as you so delicately put it. A bit of a quandary, you see?" I was so nervous that I farted. "Pardon me. Well, I'm glad I'm not you, because while you could have me arrested, I could also make a scene about how you threw me out of the casino because I'm handicapped and a woman. I would be lod and obnoxious to the point where the cops would have to tazer me. Not a great PR choice for your other members. Why don't we try to work something out." The manager put an envelope down on his desk. "There is $1500 in there. Take it. Your membership has been revoked. Your photo is now listed on our internal security website. If you so much as think about coming into another Harrah's facility anywhere in the world, I will be all over you, I will put a bullet in your ass. If you show up in Macao, I will jump out of a bowl of rice and shoot you. If you show up Vegas, they will never find your ass in the desert. Have I made myself perfectly clear, Ms. Kapowski?" I tried very hard not to pee my pants. "Crystal. Thanks for your hospitality."

I grabbed the dough off of the desk and was escorted out the door by Bugsy and Izzy the Nose. I took my winnings and drove eastward. I kept driving until I got to Indiana where I stayed for the night. My heart was still racing. I decided to go to an Applebee's and have a few drinks to calm myself down. I was bummed because they were on to my Kelly Kapowski alias. Knowing those knuckle-dragging morons, they alerted the FBI or some crap, so I can never use it again. We'll see what sort of new fake ID I can get once I arrive in North Carolina. Until then, I have to stick with being Dana with the metal friggin' leg. I'll let you know how the rest of the trip to Moore went next week. Peace out!