What A Loser

, , , , , | Friendly | July 31, 2019

(During a vacation with my girlfriend, her sister, and her sister’s boyfriend, we stop in a casino. This particular casino allows smoking inside, but also has designated non-smoking areas, including a non-smoking casino. This is heaven for me, since my allergies have been acting up the whole trip and tobacco smoke, while normally just a smelly bother, is now making things worse. Within the first hour of our visit, three of us have rotten luck — unable to get even some baby wins to keep us playing a little longer — and want to jump back in our car and take off.)

Boyfriend: “Uh, I just ordered a beer.” *holds up a half-full beer bottle* “Can I finish it off?”

Sister: “Yeah, sure. What’s one beer, right?”

(My girlfriend and I agree. Due to how quickly each of us lost $50, we opt not to gamble anymore, instead waiting in a hall just outside the casino’s restaurant. The problem with that is that this put us directly adjacent to an area that allows smoking, and the air conditioning is blowing the smoke our way. I spend the next 15 minutes sneezing almost constantly with tears streaking across my face.)

Girlfriend: “He nursing that beer?”

Me: “I’ll find him. I need to head through, anyway.”

(Within the non-smoking casino is the nearest restroom, which in turn means it has the nearest tissues to blow my nose. Before I head there, I wander around the casino for a while until I find him.)

Me: “Hey, what’s up?”

Boyfriend: “Just playing. What’s up with you?”

Me: “The girls and I are getting killed by the smoke and would like to leave.”

Boyfriend: “Sure. Just let me finish my beer.” *holds up a nearly-full bottle*

(I shrug and make my way to the restroom. Yes, he ordered another beer. But since he knew we wanted to leave, I conclude he has to be on a hot streak, and I’m not about to break it. I rejoin the girls and relay all of this, and we agree to wait. So begins a 30-minute wait of pure agony for me. Over the course of this, I cross to the restroom a few more times, trying to see how he’s doing each time. Each time, he’s too engrossed to look up, and I ignore him thinking he’s winning. On the last trip, as I am making my way back to the girls, I bump into his girlfriend, who is extremely cranky at this point. I direct her to where I last saw her boyfriend to see what she can do.)

Sister: “[Boyfriend]! What the f***?”

Boyfriend: “Oh, hey! What’s up?”

Sister: “We want to go! Finish up!”

Boyfriend: “C’mon! I’m feeling lucky!”

(At that, she leans over and whispers into his ear. I don’t know what she says, but from the way his face lights up, it has to be dirty.)

Boyfriend: “Just let me cash in!”

Sister: “Five minutes!”

(We resume our positions, and five minutes turns into ten.)

Sister: “Let’s go! If he’s winning this much, he can take a limo back to the hotel!”

(We pile in and drive off. Probably two hours later, I get a call. Guess who?)

Me: “Hey, [Boyfriend]! Where are you?”

Boyfriend: “In front of [Casino]’s parking lot. Where are you guys?”

Me: “We took off a while ago.”

Boyfriend: “Oh. So… when can I expect you?”

Me: “We’re not dropping everything for you. Take your winnings and get a car.”

Boyfriend: “I don’t have any winnings. I’m broke.”

Me: “What do you mean, you’re broke? You kept going after your luck soured?”

Boyfriend: “No, I had no luck all day.”

Me: “So, why the f*** did you keep playing when we wanted to leave?”

Boyfriend: “I figured my luck would have to change eventually and I’d get it back.”

(Despite my better judgement, I dropped everything to get him. He never told me personally how much he lost, but the tongue-lashing he got continued until the following morning, and based on the clothes scattered around their room, I’m pretty sure there was suspicion he was trying to hide his winnings. The rest of the trip was tense, with none of us talking to him. Once the trip was over — and I mean, immediately upon dropping him off at his apartment — the sister broke up with him.)

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