I blame Meme

I feel funny. No funny ha ha, funny strange. I blame Meme. Not for any concrete reason, but because I can.
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French Lick Casino was beautiful but the service was atrocious . . . at check-in, housekeeping, at the restaurant, and in the casino. I say that if you’re going to an upscale restaurant that changes $43 for a steak, the service needs to be outstanding. Silly me.

The rooms were nice, though. LP asked his Aunt if he could bring Jordan with him (“it’ll be more fun.”) and so he did. The boys got their own room and were scoping girls (or “females” as young white-as-black males call them) from the get go. Both boys were wonderfully behaved believe it or not. Jordan said that the hotel was just like a “celebrity hotel” and the high, white down comfort-ed bed was like “sleeping in a cloud.”

Both boys were nice to my niece and actually let her hang around with them and took her swimming a few times. Then they hung out in the resort’s bowling alley and shops. LP talked this saleslady into letting him try on this $8000 mink coat. LOL. Good grief.

I lost about $300 (your good luck wishes meant CRAP) but had fun at the $1 slots. I played slots with my Mom and she got a kick out of the Haywire machines—the slots that go crazy and sometimes pay double or triple.

The second day when we were broke Mom, Aunt Pat and I played 5 cent Sevens and Butterflies slots. That was actually fun. Mom hit a 300 coin pot and was excited until she remembered it was nickels and amounted to $15 or something like that.

BP enjoyed himself at the craps table and walked away with a $35 profit and was pleased as punch. Me to BP: WE CAN’T RETIRE ON A 35 DOLLAR PROFIT!!! He woke me up on my birthday with a lusty “I’ve never had a blow job from a 50 year old before,” to which I replied, “Well, let’s just keep that streak going for you, shall we?”