Ken Gets Lucky
I had decided to go to Vegas for the weekend to clear my head after finalizing the divorce with my wife of 24 years. The divorce had been amicable, taking place just six months after she had come out to me as a lesbian last summer during our only child's college graduation party. We'd talked about trying to make it work, but it quickly became apparent that it would be better for everyone if we simply split.
I'd hopped in my Tesla and hit the 15 Freeway to Vegas right after signing the papers in the law offices in San Diego on Friday afternoon. I got into Caesar's Palace just as the sun was setting on a chilly early December day. I hadn't packed a bag or booked a room, but there would be time to buy some new clothes and get a place to stay later. I valeted my car and headed straight to the craps tables.
Six hours later it was getting near midnight and the table I had started alone at now had a crowd three deep. I was on a roll. After being on the last chip of the grand I had laid down on not one or two, but three separate occasions, I was now on a two hour heater that had me up well over twenty thousand bucks.
The crowd erupted again as I hit yet another point, my 4th in a row. Across from me, a stunning blonde in her early twenties blew me a kiss. She was wearing a low cut and tight little black dress that showed off the top half of her perky breasts. Her hair was in a long braid that fell over her shoulder. She had been betting small but now had to be up a few hundred dollars herself. I smiled at her.
"I'm starving," she said, picking up her chips and letting someone take her spot. To my surprise she walked right over to me and whispered, "How about I buy you dinner?"
I looked up from the table where I was about to pick up the dice to roll once more and into her green eyes. "Are you serious?"
"You ever been to Mr. Chow's? Amazing dumplings."
I remained both speechless and motionless for just a moment longer, a wild thought going through my head. Was she a pro? I didn't think so. But if she was? Well, fuck it, I was divorced now anyhow. I turned back to the dealer and said, "Color me up."
The crowd groaned, and as I took my chips, I saw half the table now doing the same. I took my stack of chips in one hand and offered the other to the mysterious blonde. "Lead the way."
Twenty minutes later we were sitting at a table at Mr. Chows, compliments of the casino, and I signed the paperwork for my winnings while sipping on a Manhattan with some outrageously expensive bourbon in it. The casino employee took the paperwork, handed me a check and a room key and politely suggested that if I intended to do any more gambling this weekend, perhaps I could try the Bellagio across the street, but to otherwise enjoy my complimentary suite and dinner at Caesars.
I turned my attention back towards my dinner companion. "Guess you'll have to buy me dinner another time."
She smiled back at me, "Deal. I'm Samantha, by the way."
"I'm Ken," I replied. "Nice to meet you Sam."
"For a second I thought they were going to take you into a back room or something. Didn't realize how serious winning could be."
"Me neither, never won more than a couple hundred bucks before."
"So what brought you to Vegas, Ken?"
"Celebrating my divorce finalizing. You?"
"Going to see Britney with a girlfriend of mine tomorrow. Sucks about your divorce."
"Not really," I replied. "Britney? Is that a friend of yours?"
Samantha nearly choked on her martini.
"No. Britney Spears. At Planet Hollywood?"
"I know," I said sheepishly, "I was only teasing." I hadn't been but I really didn't want to come across as old as that response must have sounded.
She smiled at me and I back at her. She bit her lower lip as she picked up her martini glass. I could see there was something on her mind. She took a drink, then put the glass back down.