Member-only story
My Journey with Gambler’s Conceit
Vegas, baby.
I went to Vegas last weekend on a last-minute, three-night trip to celebrate my in-laws’ wedding anniversary. It was meant to be a redemption trip. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.
Let me start by saying I used to be opposed to gambling. Before meeting my husband Brian 25 years ago, I had never been to a casino. I viewed gambling as a waste of time and money. As a Catholic, I knew that gambling was A-ok and even encouraged (Bingo, anyone?), but I held a personal judgment that only desperate people gambled.
Brian’s family likes to gamble, but I held my ground for several years. Then, in 2003, Brian convinced me to go to Vegas — ‘Just to see it’, he said. The Strip. A show. The Hoover Dam.
We did all that. Eventually, he convinced me to spend a little on a slot machine. I won a few dollars. Then I decided to try a $5 Black Jack table at the old Flamingo Casino, which was a little less classy and a lot more friendly to a newbie like myself. With only $20 in chips, I spent almost 8 hours straight at that table, eventually walking away with $250. The rush was something I hadn’t anticipated. And I thought, ‘Hmm, maybe gambling isn’t so bad after all.’
Over the years, we went to regional casinos occasionally, usually on rainy days when visiting his family.
