Manic Monday #8: Chips

He was down to his last chip.

Tony took a deep breath. The noise of the clacking and clanging of the slot machines was a background noise that Tony thought of normal, like the jackhammering noise a construction worker takes for granted, or the constant yelling and talking of kids for a teacher. A waitress walked by and he ordered a drink. At least the drinks were cheap here.

Don't think about Dianne he told himself. She was home, where else would she be? He heard one of the dollar slots hit the jackpot. He could hear the rollup as the machine counted to the win and when he turned to look he saw the candle flashing to alert someone for a hand payout. Damn, he had been on that machine earlier today and now it pays enough that someone has to get a hand pay.

That was his luck today. No luck.

Still his luck had to change, didn't it? You can only have a run of bad luck for so long, than it had to change to good, right?

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket to check if he had any messages. Nothing from Dianne. Nothing from anyone. No messages, only a missed call from an 800 number which meant it was probably a creditor.

The casino was busy for a middle of the day in the middle of the week. People were sitting in front of the machines, cranking the arm down over and over watching the display spin and spin to stop on whatever combination the random number generator selected.

Today was rent day, he needed to win some money. Dianne was sitting home waiting for him to come home with his paycheck so they could pay the rent. How was he going to tell her he lost it on the slots? Again. He flipped his phone open again, still no messages. Why hadn't she called him?

The waitress came with his drink. He paid her and left no tip. He needed every dime now, he couldn't afford to leave anything extra on the table. She gave him a “thanks” and moved on. Screw her, he wasn't here to make friends. He was here to win some money.

Tony rubbed at his eyes. They were red from lack of sleep and the cigarette smoke in the casino. What time was it? There were no clocks around and he had hocked his watch a long time ago. It didn't matter, he wasn't going anywhere until he had a payout.

He rubbed his finger over his last chip. It was a ten dollar chip. He wasn't going to waste his time on the nickel and dime slots, that was no way to make money, it was a sucker's game. A ten dollar payout would provide enough for rent and groceries for the week. Dianne would be happy than.

He sipped his drink and looked about the casino. Where to play? There was a carousel of machines towards the back that had been good to him in the past. He remembered winning four hundred dollars there a few months back. Money that had kept him playing for hours, until he went home with nothing left.

Ok, let's make some new luck he thought. Forget those machines in the back. Dianne would be proud of him when he came home tonight with his winnings. She would be sitting up waiting for him and smile that beautiful smile of hers when he came home and handed her his winnings. She would forget all about the yelling and threatening to leave him if he didn't come straight home from work tonight.

He took the last swallow of his drink and put it down on next to an ashtray some old man had stationed next to his machine as he fed it quarters. Tony held his chip in his hand and moved towards a new row of machines. That might have been his last chip but he still had his ATM card.