Return from Atlantic City
Welcome to the 6th floor.
Today’s contributors are: Ann, Sara, Tabitha, Frank and Scott.
Subject: Black 20
It’s Saturday evening and Ann, Tabitha and Scott are hanging out in the kitchen when the door opens and Sara and Frank stroll in, looking completely exhausted.
“Aww, you’re not the pizza guy!” Scott grumbles.
“Back from Atlantic City? I thought you guys weren’t staying.” Ann says.
“We changed our minds. It was a crazy night.” Frank explains.
“Maybe we should’ve come back last night.” Sara muses.
“Maybe, but then we wouldn’t have a story to tell.”
“Gaffigan was funny. That would’ve been enough wouldn’t it have been?”
“Come on! You’ve never seen a roulette dealer put the marker down on the wrong number before. New experiences are always good.”
“He put it on the wrong number? Did you catch it in time? Did you have to wait for them to go to the video?” Scott asks.
“She’d cleared all the chips and started paying out on the wrong number. The pit boss just kinda took our word for it about where we had chips.”
“Wow. So you played roulette…did you win?” Ann asks.
“I only..” Sara is cut off by the knock at the door. This time it’s the pizza guy Scott was expecting. Scott pays him and brings the pizza to the table. “I only lost $10 playing roulette, and I played a while. I did win $40 playing video poker though. That almost paid for my half of the hotel.”
“What’d you play Frank? Or do I even need to ask?”
“I did hang out with Sara at the roulette wheel for a while, but I didn’t do that well. Afterwards I went to play poker, where I did much better.”
“I did get to bed at a semi-reasonable 3am. I don’t think Frank showed up until 5.”
“I was having a good run, and I didn’t want to quit. It wouldn’t be so bad if we hadn’t already said we’d meet Brett for breakfast at 10am.”
“Yeah, that’s what made it really brutal. If we’d slept until noon I probably wouldn’t feel this worn out.”
“Then we’d have missed the hungover bachelorette party.”
“Bachelorette party?” Scott asks, between bites of pizza.
“Completely hungover group of girls that looked like they’d barely rolled out of bed.”
“Why did they? They probably should’ve slept it off.” Tabitha asks.
“Hair of the dog.” Sara explains.
“They were all sitting at the bar drinking bloody marys. They were still there when we left the buffet.”
“This time drinking miniature bottles of champagne.”
“Sounds like they had a fun weekend. If I ever get married, you better throw me a killer party.” Ann says.