21: Not Always a Winning Hand. Kalifornia Dave's Great Adventures Mar. 31st, 2008

This is an excerpt from my autobiography, The Great Adventures of Kalifornia Dave...


     Beautiful people, places and things is what I have strived to see.  I made a very impulsive decision to go to Las Vegas for my twenty-first birthday.  I would love to tell you a story about how spectacular it was, but instead I must deliver you a "poor me" story.  Actually, it is a "pour me another drink" story.
      I had been in Las Vegas for two days.  I had done all the sightseeing and since this day was my birthday, it was time for some gambling and drinking.  My co-pilot had left earlier in the day and I was supposed to meet up with at the Caribbean Stud tables at Bally’s.  There I was standing in the entrance to the game room of Bally’s.  Most of my sight was focused on the beautifully crafted bar.  It had black lacquer counter tops.  It was set in the middle of the entrance.  So, no matter which way I went I had to walk by it.  It was oval, just like a racetrack.  The bartenders could go from one side of the bar to the other with very little effort.  It being the first thing I saw, I though "Why make a second trip, later."
     "What can I get for you?"  The bartender asked.
     "A Heineken and a shot of Jack."  I proudly said with a smirk.
     "Got some I.D.?"  He asked.
     I whipped out the wallet with such grace; even the Queen of England would have thought I had class.  I showed him my I.D. and he looked at it, kind of funny at first.
     "Yeah, today is my birthday.  The first thing I have to do is change my I.D. when I get home to Chicago."  I chimed in.
     "Well, Happy Birthday."  He replied, as he handed me back my I.D.
     I slammed the shot and nursed the beer.  This was going to be the only liquor I had to pay for.  If you gamble, the drinks are free.  Since my other intentions were to gamble, I guess I was to be having a lot of free drinks.
     I held the cold heineken in my hand and turned to face the "promised land."  Looking around the massive game room blew me away.  The whole casino was happening 24-7.  The sounds that emanated from the casino floor happened to be excitement all in itself.  There were people jumping around in enjoyment and those swearing in disgust, at the same time.  Bells and whistles went off in every part of the huge gaming room.
     I found my way to where my friend, Jimmy, was playing.  I sat down next to him.  Immediately, I bought some chips and jumped in on the fun.  Jimmy the Greek; trust me when I say he looks like it.  The dark olive complexion, long, dark black hair and those facial features made him look like his family was definitely from the Mediterranean region of the world.  He was twenty-six.  He stood about six feet, three inches tall.  He was slender, probably not weighing more than 130 pounds wet.  He bounced when he walked, hence his nickname,        "Goose."
     "Can I get you anything, darlin’?"  The waitress asked.
     "Yeah, a Heineken and a shot of Jack.  Oh and keep ’em coming!"  I replied with a great big smile.
     Jimmy and I sat there and gambled for a good four hours.  I was up $200 bucks.  Jimmy had met a couple of girls who were supposed to meet us for dinner at 6 PM.  I never met them, but I was told they were from Nebraska on a vacation from school during the Thanksgiving holiday.  It gave me something to look forward too.  I figured he had bought some prostitutes as a birthday present for me.  I was happy to play along.
     "Excuse me sir.  Can I see some I.D.?"  A gentleman said as he tapped me on my shoulder.
     I turned around to see a short, stocky man showing me his badge.  He had this mustache that covered his whole upper lip and then some.  I towered over him when I stood up.  He had a rather large gut.  He was obviously eating well, and it fit his body style.  He looked like a very powerful man.  He gave off that masculine, "I’m in control," attitude.
     "Sure, here you go."  I said as I handed him my I.D.  This time I had no class, because I was hammered.
     "Sir, can you grab your chips.  I’m going to have to ask you to accompany me for a moment."  He replied.
     "What’s the problem?"  I asked.
     "Well sir, this doesn’t seem to be a real Illinois Driver’s License.  They are actually blue; not red."  He said.
     I explained to him that Illinois Driver’s Licenses are red until you turn 21.  Then i would have to go and have it changed at the Secretary of State.
     "If there is no problem, then there should be nothing for you to worry about."  He said.
     I was worried.  U.S. Marshals scare me!  However, he was polite, so that and the alcohol helped calm my nerves.  After walking for a few moments, I realized he was right, there was nothing for me to worry about.  I followed him into the back hallways of the casino that the normal patrons would probably never see.  However, I am far from normal.  I am sure you figured that already.  The Marshal told me to have a seat in the security room.  He went over to talk to the Bally’s security officer that was on duty.  I sat in the chair trying to focus my eyes.  The room was cold and colorless.  There was this room I sat in that could not have been more than six feet deep and ten feet wide.  There was height chart on one wall, and of course, the infamous "mug-shot camera" facing it.  The room I walked through first, had enough room for a desk where the security officer on duty sat.  It was a very uncomfortable place to be.
     The door opened and there stood the security guy.  He was very tall, and he was wearing this awful looking red blazer.  His tan slacks did not help.  This was obviously the required uniform, unless of course, he was being punished for bad performance.  Which I still like to believe was true.  His facial features never really stuck in my memory, I was too busy trying to block out the sight of the that blazer.
     "Give me your chips."  He commanded with authority.
     "What are you nuts?"  I replied.
     "Don’t make this harder than it has to be."  He said.
     "I’ll give you my chips, but we are counting them first."  I said.
     "There’s no reason to count them, you are not getting them back."  He told me.
     "The hell I ain’t.  What do I look like, some kind of sucker?"  I asked with a loud drunken voice.
     "O.K. I’ll humor you."  He said.
     What happened next was unbelievable to me, even to this day.  I sat there in the small room and listened to the security guard talk back and forth with someone over the radio.  They talked about how I was an underage, counterfeiter of out of state I.D.’s  He was convinced I had a fake one.
     "...David...born November 20th...Social Security number...height...weight...eye color...tattoos..."  The voice cracled over the radio.
     "Well, it looks like you are free to go.  There seems to have been a mistake."  The security guard said to me.
     "Oh really, I just here for six hours on my birthday, get called a liar, a cheat, a counterfeiter and who knows what else, and now it’s okay for me to go.  Wow, isn’t that convenient.  I’m not leaving until I get an apology from you."  I said with lots of anger and conviction.
     "I don’t have to apologize for doing my job."  He told me in a pompous voice.
     "Okay, so you want to make this hard.  I’m sorry, that’s all I needed, but no you are too good to be proven wrong.  Well, I want an apology from you, the C.E.O. of Bally’s, and the U.S. Marshal who brought me in.  Oh yeah, I want them all written."  I said, getting really cocky as each minute passed.  My pride was working overtime, and I have since learned, that emotions cause your brain to think and act irrationally.  Add a little alcohol, or in my case, a lot, you find yourself in some sticky situations.
     "You are not getting any apologies from me or anyone else, and if you don’t leave now, I am going to find something to arrest you for!  Why not enjoy the last two hours of your birthday?"  He asked, in a sarcastic tone.
     "I hate authority figures."  I thought to myself.
Totally disgusted, I stormed out of the office, using the walls for balance.  Every person I saw, I stopped and explained what had just happened.  I was trying to convince them to gamble in another casino.  I must have told a dozen people about it, and probably none of them wanted to hear about it.  I was finally forced to leave the premises.  I stood outside and tried to stop people from going into Bally’s.  I must have looked pretty psychotic.  I know I felt like it.
I went back to my hotel, and passed out in anger and remorse from a disappointing birthday.  In the morning, Jimmy finally showed up.  I was a little curious about him being gone all night.
      "Dude, what happened to you?  I turned to talk to you and you were gone."  Jimmy said.
      "I got fucking arrested!  How could you not have noticed the U.S. Marshal that escorted me from the table?"  I asked.
      "I don’t know I was pretty drunk."  He said.
      "YOU PROBABLY CAN"T EVEN IMAGINE HOW DRUNK I WAS!"  I replied with a snicker.
     "The girls showed up.  We went out for dinner, and I hit it off with one of them.  The one was kind of upset that she got stood up on a blind date."  Jimmy said.
     "So, then where have you been all night?"  I asked.
     "Dude..." Jimmy explained, "I even got pictures!"
     "You fucking bastard."  I yelled.
     I have tried very hard to piece together other parts of this little vacation I took but it is hard to remember those times in my life when the alcohol flowed with such vigor that I was practically "The Walking Dead."  I went to Las Vegas for four days.  However, I can only remember bits and pieces of the rest of my trip.  It’s pretty sad that I can give vivid details about the worst part of the trip, and make it sound funny.  In all reality, I can laugh about it now because I have learned from life’s mistakes.  I found out later that the casinos pump oxygen into their vents, so you sleep less and can drink more.  I have should have been floored hours earlier with the amount of liquor I drank.  Imagine that, a 21 year old drunk in Vegas.  "Don’t kill yourself, son!!!"