Elements to a Bad Day
Atlantic City, NJ
Sometimes, bad days are inevitable. I always seem to have them when I'm on the road and in the middle of an assignment. I saw this one looming overhead. It started late last night. I miss my girlfriend. I really do. But last night, she managed to send me on tilt not once, but twice. One was an external issue (not involving our relationship) that I'd rather not discuss in a public forum.
Needless to say, I was not happy with the course of our conversation. I was angry. Pissed off and wanted to punch the walls. So she tried to change the topic and of course it shifted towards Sarah Palin and her speech which sent me on mega-tilt. No, I did not watch the speech. If I had the chance, I wouldn't because I don't care.
When you work inside of a casino, things like current events have zero bearings. Unless it is a sporting event where people can gamble on. The Yankees/Devil Rays game was on the big screen in the big tournament room. The Borgata knows their clientele. Keep them focused on gambling and baseball. No need for politics. After all, casinos know a ton about "the house always wins" which is how I feel a lot about politics.
So here's the scene. It's late. I'm tired. I'm irritated and aside from poker and religion, discussing politics is my least favorite thing to do these days. Yeah, I wanted to jump out of my 40+ story window.
The seeds were planted. I usually get a great rest at the Borgata, but I didn't. I simply could not fall asleep because I got too much sleep the night before. I finally managed to pass out before sunrise. I woke up, wrote, and then headed downstairs. The places I wanted to eat were crowded so I settled upon Fatburger since it is open 24 hours. I ordered their breakfast sandwich. It's basically one piece of bacon, a slice of cheese and one egg on a hamburger bun. I devoured that in seconds.
That's when I realized that I had been inside a casino for 40 straight hours. I tend to go a little loopy if I don't get oxygen. I forced myself to stay outside for about twenty minutes. I called my brother and reluctantly shuffled back inside.
I was at the media desk by 10:30am. I wouldn't leave until almost 12 hours later. I had several chances to grab something to eat, but kept putting it off... which was a terrible idea because in the end, I didn't get to eat until I got off work.
Yeah, it was sort of a busy/crazy day considering it was a minor tournament. The action progressed much slower than normal. Usually when a poker tournament gets down to 4 or 5 players, they will chop up the prize money. Not the case. It went to the bitter end. One of the floor staff joked that it would last longer than the GiantsRedskins game. Well, guess what? The game ended before the tournament.
When I got back into my room, the toilet was busted. That's bad news considering my brother is coming to visit and he has a habit of clogging toilets.
You know it's a bad day when a guy comes home and wants to take a dump, but can't because the toilet is busted. I went back downstairs, did my business, and called to get the toilet fixed.
I had limited food options for this time of night. I ate a half of a Philly cheesesteak. The rest of it is sitting right in front of me.
Oh, and yeah, the stock market tanked today. I promised myself that I would not check my accounts because that would spiral me into a serious depression.
I stopped reading my friends' twitter feeds because of the heavy political discourse. I want to unsubscribe to their feeds, but some of them are hyper-sensitive and it would hurt their feelings. Yes, I'm talking about ______.
Hey, people unsubscribe to me all the time. Twitter. Bloglines. What have you. Poker people don't like the music tweets. The music people hate the poker content. And I gain and lose followers everyday. It's just the way it is. But all of this politics stuff is fuckin' killing me. Ergo, I stopped reading Twitter because I'm too much of a pussy to hurt people's feelings.
You see, I always encourage people to express themselves. It's a healthy thing. But that doesn't mean I have to gobble up every bite. The only solution is to ignore Twitter until after the election.
I told Otis a secret today. I hope he keeps it to himself. If not, I'll cut off a finger.