So Saturday, I took a day trip to the Casino. I arrive at the Cache Creek Indian Casino feeling kind of out of sorts after blowing away a Mustang on the way over in my Audi race car. I had thought it wanted to race and punched my turbo V8 to a 140 mph, leaving the Mustang in the dust. But BustSeconds later my victory melted away as I sat stuck behind a stop sign and the Mustang caught up to me. The old lady behind the wheel did not look too impressed. And there was that blue handicap tag hanging from her rear view mirror.
But I try to leave that all behind me as I walk into the Casino. I switch into John Travolta mode and strut to the water fountain feeling cool and thirsty. I’m also intelligent and whip out my leather coin purse to shield me from the inevitable shock at the fountain. I notice there are women watching and imagine them noticing my wit and cleverness at the fountain. But I hear a “spack” and see sparks as I feel a sharp pain voltage into my tongue forcing my body to spasm and let out a very non-masculine shriek. And my coin purse falls to the floor spilling six months worth of spare change. Not a very cool sight to behold.
So I order a chili dog and lemonade from the Deli bar and the cute girl at the counter hands me my cup and says I am number #1. (my call number) So I say, “Yes I am!” But I only say half of it because when I expertly flicked my cup up in a summer-sault, it hits my nose and falls to the floor. Damn! I refuse a replacement cup.
I’m at a slot machine and very hot filly sits next to me. I try to act cool and flip out a smoke. I hope she notices my cool new lighter in the shape of a stack of poker chips that matched my World Series Poker shirt. She asks me, “Are you going to smoke?” I’m thinking, “Okay, I got a cig in my mouth, and lighter in hand, what the f__k does she think I’m going to do?” All I could say was, “Yes.” So she gives me a dirty look and scoots out of there!?! I’m like WTF? The whole place is festering in smoke? What the hell?
So I can’t let these events spoil my fun, so I decide to cool off and plan what I should do next. So I’m standing in a safe place scoping the joint and a security gal yells at me, “No smoking here!!!” Everybody around looks at me like I’m some sort of public offender! “Oh, I didn't see the sign. Where is the sign?” She points to a small eligible sign behind me. I say, “Oh.” And move THREE feet to my right where there is an ash tray!!! “Is here okay?”
Now I’m looking around and there is smoke EVERYWHERE! My eyes are stinging with smoke. People with cigs that walk through the 6 feet of non-smoking space are okay because they are moving. Again, there is smoke EVERYWHERE! But I get yelled at—sheesh!
So I go outside and light up. I realize my shoulders are getting stiff and I feel a headache coming on. But it was beautiful out there and I start to relax a little. I’m watching some workers plant these bushes. I put out the cig on the ground and a worker stares at me and says, “That’s a fire hazard sir, can you pick that up?” I notice the bushes are all dead and extremely flammable looking. I say, “Oh, sorry.” and pick up the butt. “Why are you guys planting all these dead weeds for anyway?” He said, “I dunno, it’s the look they wanted I guess.”
There is a fire burning across the street in a field. I look to my left and there are two fire engines up on a small hill next to the Casino doing absolutely nothing about it. Then I notice these guys are in training and there are four firemen in full gear moving up the hill with a stretcher. It takes them like five minutes to move six feet man, then one guy slips and the stretcher spills to the left onto the ground. I’m thinking, “What kind of world do I live in? Is everyone insane? Fumbling firemen, dead weeds, anti-smokers, old handicapped ladies driving Mustangs, water fountains that can kill, and enforcing a non-smoking section that’s absolutely deluged in smoke? ”
So I go to the buffet and have a ton of oysters, a steak, prime-rib, goat meat, eight desserts, five cokes, egg rolls, fruit, pizza, mashed potatoes and gravy, French toast with lots of syrup, salami, sausage, coffee, champagne, ice cream and some unknown food. I tip BIG!
Afterwards I am happy again and on a corner slot. A hot girl is sitting on a slot facing me with her legs parted open in a manner that would make the Pope look twice. Her tight jeans were shouting out to be noticed. She looked me in the eye for a second than her eyes locked onto my stomach. At this time I realize I am carrying around a beach ball under my shirt. I can’t even suck in a millimeter. It feels like it is expanding like someone is pumping helium into it. It must have been the oysters or something. My face felt flushed and something moved inside me as gases began to export from every possible opening. Her expression became concerned, and that was my cue to head for the bathroom which was just beyond the crap tables. I made it to a stall okay, but the janitor was working on the toilet next to mine which over flowed and brown water rushed into my stall all over my shoes. I heard someone say, “Oh, sh_t!” and minutes later a yellow sign was placed in front of MY door! When I got out, everyone thought I was the one who had an accident!!! Damn!
So I’m by my car ready for my journey home. I’m admiring two shiny Harleys that parked right next to me. Then, all of a sudden, two guys rush to the bikes admiring them too, and then start digging through the saddlebags??? They seem aggressive and indiscriminately rampage through the Harley owner’s stuff. I get very offended because I have a bike and know that you just don’t mess with someone’s ride. Then I heard myself shout out at them, “What the f__k you doin’ man, get the f__k outta here!”
Big Mistake! I mean I’m six one at 240, but these guys were even bigger, and meaner, and harder and were no doubt stronger than oxen. They turned and glared at me with eyes that said, “You’re already dead brother!” And it was just then I realized the colors they were pullin’ out of the saddle bags were that of an infamous outlaw motorcycle club (name not given to protect my ass.) And worse, I realized those were THEIR own bikes man!!! So I quickly pointed to the cell phone which thank GOD I had in my hand, and indicated I was talking to someone on the phone. I turned away and continued to yell in my phony remote microphone, “I told you not to do me like that!” I walked back to the Casino shouting profanities at my pretend caller and holding an invisible fake earphone to my ear. I never turned back. And I hid inside the Casino doors until they were gone…
It's only now I question why they did not wear their colors in the Casino. My only guess is it was either too hot, or they were trying to avoid trouble, or had met with clueless parents, or something? But there had to have been a good excuse not to wear their colors with pride and respect...P.S. If you happen to be the riders reading this post--I was just trying to protect someone's ride man. And you were dressed like cagers (someone who drives a car.) so I thought those were not your bikes! Nice bikes btw. Solid rides man.
