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:: Monday, April 28, 2003 ::
I took a trip to Atlantic City in 1988 which will go down as the dumbest gambling trips in history. First of all It was planned for a three day trip: One day to drive up (we're talking 12 punishing hours), one day to gamble and one day return trip...Friday, Saturday, back on Sunday. So off I went in Feburary of 88, Atlanta to New Jersey. Other thant getting lost in Harrisburg, PA and spilling a bottle of Draker Noir cologne in the front seat (I still can't wear the stuff) the trip up was filled with hopes and dreams of jackpots. The drive from Philly to AC was partucularly exciting with huge billboards adverstising star studded productions. Then finally, the Casinos! Lights flashing, Limos lined up, filled with big shots, I loved it. I couldn't believe my luck when I found a parking place right up near the front of Resorts Internaitonal. I parked and ran accross the street to Bally's. I was dressed to the nines complete with sports coat slung over my shoulder.I thumbed my bankroll...Wow $87.00! We're talking about the smallest stash in the entire city, but I thought I was really something! I made my way to the dollar slots and immediately lost 50 bucks! Well, time to drop back, maybe get the car, get something to eat, drive around a bit.
I went outside, crossed the street...but where was my car?! Someone had stolen my car! It was a brand new '88 Baretta GT and it was gone. In my backwoods southern drawl, I made it clear that something was clearly amiss and that it had something to do with my car. A parking attendant with long stringy hair asked exactly where I was parked. I said right there, pointing to a choice spot next to a big column. "Are staying at Resorts?" he asked. "No" said I. Well this space is for hotel guests only. Youre car was towed. Here call this number," and he gave me a card.
I was devastated. My mouth suddenly had steely matalic taste of fear and panic. "Uh..uh..uh what do I do?" All the life was gone from my face. My mouth wouldn't move right.
"Just call this number and find out where they are, then go and pay them the fine and get your car back." Sound simple, only I only had $34! "Can I use your phone?" "Sure," and led me to a lighted booth with a phone. I called, got directions and then took off the the New Jersey February night, slick sole dress shoes, funky sports coat and all. I was freezing, threatening ice. The wind cut through my wool blend trousers like icy needles. Six blocks, eight blocks, then turn left, another couple 'a blocks, my feet now with blisters. Then there it was, "Ace Parking." Here's another long hair in a lighted booth, this time watching TV. Knock, knock, "Yea, What'cha need?" "My car!" "Of course your car! Which one?" The little white Baretta, just got here," Sure, That'll be 50 bucks." What?! I don't have 50 bucks!" "Well then, you don't get the car." "But you don't understand, I drove up here from Georgia!" I was pacing frantically, the steam pouring out of me and off of me." Will you take a Visa?" I asked, suddenly thinking I was saved. Well the sign says :"Cash only!" "But this is all I have," holdin up a twenty and a ten. "Let me call my boss, see what she says," he said and disappeared into the steamed boothe. He comes out saying, "The boss says that if you have a Visa, all you have to do is go to one of the casino's and they'll give you cash from your card." "Hunh?" This in a world before ATM's. "Just go to a Casino, go to the Cashier's cage and request cash on your card." "You're kidding," my backwoods southern drawl becoming more backwards and back woods. "Trust me." he said.
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