pleasedI did, however, gamble at the airport. It didn't seem appropriate to go to Las Vegas and leave without gambling at least once. And doing so at the airport is perhaps the quintessential Las Vegas experience. I mean, there are casinos, all over the country now. Hell, I can play the slots in Charles Town, West Virginia, which is thirty minutes away from home. But where else can I gamble at the airport? Or at the 7-Eleven? That's what Vegas is all about, baby!
It turns out that I am an exceptionally good gambler. Once I had chosen my machine, I dropped my three quarters into the slot and pulled the handle. The wheels spun, and came to rest: bar, clown face, bar. The machine made various electronic chirping sounds, and I found myself with thirty credits. A tenfold return! And one that I was unlikely to be able to duplicate on the next spin, so I cashed out the machine and walked away $6.75 richer.
Hm, maybe that makes me a bad gambler.
