Saturday night was my first night to deal blackjack for my new job with Fabulous Casino Nights. James and I worked next to each other and we had a good time. Every time someone hit a blackjack at my table, I would scream out "BLACKJACK" like Bernie Mac does in Ocean's 11. Didn't make any tips, yet didn't plan on it either.
At the end of the night, while waiting for James to finish up with his area, I was encountered by a man with scotch on his breath who felt it necessary to explain to me the greatness of pay day. You see, I was looking at my check, because looking at a paycheck is a wonderful thing, and he sauntered up to me and the following is the exchange that took place:
Drunk Man: Pay day's a good day.
Matt: (surprised) Yeah.
Drunk Man: Got to love pay day.
Matt: (uncomfortable to be in this situation) Yeah.
Drunk Man: Christmas time coming up. Don't want to max out that credit card.
Matt: (slight pause) Yeah.
Drunk Man: You got to save some of that. Put it in the bank.
Matt: (slightly annoyed now) Yeah.
Drunk Man: You don't want to get old and not have any money. Look at me. I'm 50 years old. Don't have enought to retire yet. You've got to save.
Matt: (hysterically searching for James) Yeah.
Drunk Man: Money doesn't grow on Christmas trees. Isn't that right?
Matt: (relieved to see James walk up) Yeah. You ready to go?
I walked slightly faster than James on the way out of the hotel and was telling James to speed it up the whole way to the car. Why do I always end up talking to some drunk oaf. It happened to me in Las Vegas. It happens to me a lot. Oh well, it's usually funny afterward.
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