Capitalism never ceases to intrigue and amaze me. Especially after living in the shadow of Las Vegas for many years, it was easy to become fascinated regarding the world of commerce. Which makes my interest in gambling and casions a bit odd and perhaps hypocritical when you couple it with my notion that the world would be better off if businesses weren't trying to make a buck at all costs. How can I enjoy strutting around Bally's Casino when the mere thought of anything Disney or evenly remotely capitalistic sends my mind into apolexy? How can I like, no savor, playing blackjack? Suppose it's all because gambing to me is a game, and anything that is a game trumps my distaste of unbridled capitalism. That must explain all those Doomtown and Magic cards I own.
Now onto the story.
Last Thursday my wife and I decided to make a pilgrimage to Atlantic City for our biannual gaming extravaganza. When I say gaming, I suppose it should just be called blackjack, because that's all we do. Slots? Screw 'em. Stupid donation machines. Craps? Lousy odds, unless you are betting the pass or don't pass line. Roulette? Dull. So blackjack it is, even though we're forced to play a shoe with eight decks and deal with mooks who don't even play basic strategy. Besides the point though, because we feel we can play for a while and usually break about even, which is just fine by us.
So we're off to Atlantic City with no real plan in mind, just to game and goof around. Thursday has us playing mostly ten or fifteen dollar tables, and dealing with the blue haired ladies who hit a stiff hand against a six and the hungover dude who kept hitting a soft eighteen and nineteen. What? No splitting tens?
After an hour of playing we're walking around Trump's Plaza when we notice a horde of cameras and equipment snaking their way around the craps pit. Odd. Even more odd is when they saunter up to my wife and I and try to convince us to be on their show, Ambush Makeover. Granted, we look like chumps with our sandles, sweatshirts and cargo pants, but no sale here. We have games to play, plus the show is on Fox, which pretty much means it has zero credibility. Of course that's not saying much - just having it on any TV means it usually lacks credibility. (See, I really don't like capitalism.) But this encounter did give me a chance to catch up with a lady I went to college with, Deb Somethingorother. Hope your life is full of verve Deb.
So, ambush makeroverless we continue playing, walking around the freezing and gloomy boardwalk, or just wandering. Upon returning to our new favorite casino for makeovers, we're accosted by a representative for Fairfield Resorts asking if we'll go to a presentation for a timeshare. Our reward: fifty dollars in coins and a free two night stay at a Fairfield Resort. So we agree.
I still don't like capitalism.
So at our presenation the next day (after hours more blackjack and a tasty ten dollar omelette) we immediately tell our salesman we're just not interested and then listen to his pitch. Pretty much standard buy our timeshare fluff, because this is your money, and don't you want something to show for it, and blah blah blah. Funny. He did seem shocked at the end when we reiterated we weren't buying. Honestly, he had to know he was screwed when we saw us: we were by far the youngest couple in there, we needed a makeover, and I fell asleep during the presentation.
But we took our gifts just the same, played some more cards, and ate more breakfast foods at non-breakfast times.
Did I mention I love capitalism?
