I am not a gambler, but that doesn’t mean I’ve never gambled. Back in my hometown of Greencastle, PA, my and some of my high school friends would play poker together with a $5 buy-in… the catch being that the winner had to pay for bowling, which was inevitably more expensive. Other than that, I’ve only gambled once.
After Comic-Con International 2011, I was flying with my dad back to Pennsylvania. As was, for some reason, tradition for us, we had a layover in Las Vegas. For the uninitiated, whenever you get off the plane in Vegas, you are immediately punched in the mouth with slot machines. Comic-Con always falls in the second half of July, and so does my birthday. I had just turned 21.
Dad, handing me a quarter: You’re a man now, son. Here. Go forth and gamble.
Me: Uh, okay.
So I take the quarter, put it in the slot machine, and lose the quarter.
Me: That was unsatisfying.
Dad: No no no, you’re doing it wrong. Here’s how it’s done.
Dad takes another quarter, puts it in the slot machine, pulls the lever, and wins $5.00.
Me: What. The. Fuck.
Dad: It’s all in the wrist.