Sousing it up after a long week of work sometimes isn’t enough to get you by (I’ll let you compose yourself after such a bombshell. Better?). If my 20′s have taught me anything, it’s that the best way to blow off steam is to just do something really stupid and reckless: rob a liquor store, set fire to a day care center, date a Kardashian (my condolences to Lamar Odom, we hardly knew ye).

Bad news: I was out of firearms, incendiary devices and lies to tell Kim.

Good news: my bosses invited me out to Atlantic City, which I’ve learned will do in a pinch.

As this was my first time to AC, I decided to keep a running diary of it. Before you ask “Isn’t this like a bunch of Sports Guy’s columns on Vegas, namely one he wrote just three weeks ago?”, let me differentiate: He has a huge fan base that digs his writing, thoroughly enjoys casinos on a regular basis, and most importantly is a seasoned pro writer/gambler. I, on the other hand, will be lucky if this post is accidentally clicked on at 3am by a furry on the other side of the world looking for “Concentrated Opossum: Where furries go to yiff”. If you don’t know what a furry is, please don’t look it up. It’ll only make you sad.

For those not looking for said twisted porn, prepare to gamble with 15 minutes of your life you’ll never get back.

12:00pm – Woo! AC here we come! I’ve got my fanny pack full of fruit rollups and I’m ready to cut loose!

12:01 – My fanny pack is immediately thrown out the window by my boss. Lucky I brought a spare Fruit by the Foot in my back pocket. Start contemplating if a Canadian “Vegetable by the Meter” could work.

12:37 – A chill runs up my spine. A cold wind blows through the car. Somewhere in the distance, a small child’s cries go unanswered. I look up. “Welcome to New Jersey!”. Can I hold my nose for 12+ hours?

1:30 – I’ve made my sixth rest stop since starting the trip. My highly developed urinary system goes underappreciated.

2:15 – We pull through an adjacent town…Abysmal? Abscess? Absecon, right, right. I’m pretty sure I just saw a dog looking for a place to die, stopping at a nearby Best Western, and shaking its head as it continued on.

Gimme an S! Gimme an L! Gimme a U! Gimme a T!

2:45 – We pull up to the casino, immediately spot a car window sticker stating “Cougar Cheerleadering”. Clearly, this can mean be only one of two things: older women who dress up like cheerleaders at singles bars OR cheerleaders who rally you on to seek out said older women. Both options are strangely appealing.

3:30 – I sit down at a Texas Hold ‘em table. Everyone immediately stares me down and starts laughing. People are so friendly here! I’ve got $100 to spend on this table for a while, I think I’ll do well.

3:33 – Start humming Lady Gaga. I soon regret this faux pas when the dealer cracks me over the head with a stool and continues to deal. Must be more of a Britney fan.

3:38 – I’ve got $75 left. It’s still good! It’s still good!

3:43 – $40 left. It’s still still good! It’s still good!

3:50 – $10 left. It’s still good!

3:55 – And like that, I’m done. Planned to lose no more than $200 all night and I’m down half of it within 25 minutes of gambling. Fantastic start.

5:01 – I’ve circled the casino 20 times in the last hour in a nervous attempt to find my bearings. If I skitter any faster I might turn back time in the casino a la Superman.

5:15 – We regroup, settle down for cheesesteaks. This will be the best use of my money all night. I still feel sick afterward, but at least my shame is mostly internalized.

5:45 – Coworkers return to their tables. Either the dread of losing more money or the gallon of cheese whiz I consumed is turning my stomach so much I can’t handle any more cards. I decide to play nature show host to the creatures that inhabit the casino and people watch for a while. “People” is loosely defined here.
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