Tue Jun 24, 2014 12:27 am by 
A feint smoke permeated in between the cheap cologne and clouds of smoke. While he never pictured Bangkok as a place of enchantment, Clayton did picture it as a place he could get an 8. Another Spade brought his total to 19; he thought about what the odds of pulling an Ace or a 2, but then remembered odds came from math club guys while the rest of us go on dates. After the balding man who couldn’t help but sweat through every inch of his white button up broke on a hit on 15, it passed over to a calmly suited man who never took his eyes off the dealer. Air conditioning cooled off the well maintained casino, but the smell of bad decisions kept coming up from the guy Clayton nicknamed Manzo in his head.
“Your call, sir.” The dealer kept his hand pressed against the top of the deck. Sitting looked like the best thing to do, but he could barely fight off the urge to take account of the stack of cards sitting on Manzo’s card. Clayton waved his hands to move the dealer on to the white suit two seats down. Without saying anything the dealer flipped a card, revealing a 6 of hearts. “21.”
“Would’ve crashed you, John Wayne.” The chips slid across the table to slick man in the white suit. His gaze stayed fixed on the dealer, never even taking a look at the 19 sitting before Clayton. “I think I’ll move on.”
Manzo kept chewing away at the cigarette, smelling of an aroma of burnt ashes and covered in possibly cardboard. Moving behind the man in white, wearing a plaid shirt with Bermuda shorts and red glasses, came a black man with a slightly protruding gut. Clumsily he slid past Manzo placing his chips in front of him stacking them in a precise way, while looking up to smile and wave first at Manzo then Clayton. Clayton laughed a little then gave the undeniably American man a return wave. Before Clayton took his head down to look at the table he noticed a third wave to someone behind him. Turning to take notice of new comer, Clayton gazed upon the all too familiar face of his several time partner.
“How you doing, crazy?” He interjected his question with a calm assertion. The cards started moving along the table and the agitation on Manzo’s face already spread to his over active sweat glands.
“So, we’re trying to match up pairs right?” Ditching her regular downtrodden get up for a shimmering black dress and a pair of heel pumps, Elaine’s hair rested just on the edge of the bottom of her shoulders as she picked up her cards and examined the symbols on them. “What’s this thing?” She pointed to the spade located below the ten on her card.
“It’s a spade. You know those things you dig graves with.” The questions she brought up made him question her motives. No one comes to a casino with this little information. Well, this little information and no guns. “I’d say you look dressed to kill, but I think the metaphor would go to your fingers.”
“Why is that red guy shoving swords into his head?” Elaine reached across Clayton’s play area to point to the king of hearts in front of Manzo.
“He probably knew you’d be here and took the easy way out.” The final card came to rest in front of Clayton, giving him 13. “For some reason a casino doesn’t seem like the place for someone with your track record of judgment.”
“I’m not the one who married a 19 year old in Mexico.”
“In my defense that was fifth worst decision I made that day.”
“Will you hit miss?” The dealer pressed his finger in between the deck and the top card in anticipation of her first action.
“Sure.” A seven stacked on top of her deck to bring her 17.
Clayton leaned over to offer her a word of advice on how to play wisely. “Now you should just-”
“Hit.” An eight laid directly in front of her, bringing her to 25.
“You took my eight.” Clayton looked down to his 13, and could hardly believe it. “You busted and took me with you.” Seemed right enough.
“Sir, your decision?” The dealer came back after taking the chips Elaine bet. He readied a card in anticipation, but Clayton could only think about how he would need to incorporate Elaine into his plan. She would work her way in no matter what, and neither way would help him, but would asking hurt him more or less.
“Hit.” A 9 popped up and brought him to 22. “Awesome cowgirl.” Sitting at 12, Manzo leaped up and began hurling insults in the direction of Elaine. "Hey, she ruined my life first pal."
“It’s okay; it’s not costing you anything.” Elaine continued on her spout while Clayton kept his wrath swelled up in his fingers.
“Well, these little chips represent money. And, since they aren’t in front of me anymore, it means I don’t have that money anymore.”
“Just get the guy who owns the casino to give you more for being pretty like he did me.”
Clayton sighed heavily. “I may have undervalued you, and now I see your worth.”
“Your call, sir.” The dealer kept his hand pressed against the top of the deck. Sitting looked like the best thing to do, but he could barely fight off the urge to take account of the stack of cards sitting on Manzo’s card. Clayton waved his hands to move the dealer on to the white suit two seats down. Without saying anything the dealer flipped a card, revealing a 6 of hearts. “21.”
“Would’ve crashed you, John Wayne.” The chips slid across the table to slick man in the white suit. His gaze stayed fixed on the dealer, never even taking a look at the 19 sitting before Clayton. “I think I’ll move on.”
Manzo kept chewing away at the cigarette, smelling of an aroma of burnt ashes and covered in possibly cardboard. Moving behind the man in white, wearing a plaid shirt with Bermuda shorts and red glasses, came a black man with a slightly protruding gut. Clumsily he slid past Manzo placing his chips in front of him stacking them in a precise way, while looking up to smile and wave first at Manzo then Clayton. Clayton laughed a little then gave the undeniably American man a return wave. Before Clayton took his head down to look at the table he noticed a third wave to someone behind him. Turning to take notice of new comer, Clayton gazed upon the all too familiar face of his several time partner.
“How you doing, crazy?” He interjected his question with a calm assertion. The cards started moving along the table and the agitation on Manzo’s face already spread to his over active sweat glands.
“So, we’re trying to match up pairs right?” Ditching her regular downtrodden get up for a shimmering black dress and a pair of heel pumps, Elaine’s hair rested just on the edge of the bottom of her shoulders as she picked up her cards and examined the symbols on them. “What’s this thing?” She pointed to the spade located below the ten on her card.
“It’s a spade. You know those things you dig graves with.” The questions she brought up made him question her motives. No one comes to a casino with this little information. Well, this little information and no guns. “I’d say you look dressed to kill, but I think the metaphor would go to your fingers.”
“Why is that red guy shoving swords into his head?” Elaine reached across Clayton’s play area to point to the king of hearts in front of Manzo.
“He probably knew you’d be here and took the easy way out.” The final card came to rest in front of Clayton, giving him 13. “For some reason a casino doesn’t seem like the place for someone with your track record of judgment.”
“I’m not the one who married a 19 year old in Mexico.”
“In my defense that was fifth worst decision I made that day.”
“Will you hit miss?” The dealer pressed his finger in between the deck and the top card in anticipation of her first action.
“Sure.” A seven stacked on top of her deck to bring her 17.
Clayton leaned over to offer her a word of advice on how to play wisely. “Now you should just-”
“Hit.” An eight laid directly in front of her, bringing her to 25.
“You took my eight.” Clayton looked down to his 13, and could hardly believe it. “You busted and took me with you.” Seemed right enough.
“Sir, your decision?” The dealer came back after taking the chips Elaine bet. He readied a card in anticipation, but Clayton could only think about how he would need to incorporate Elaine into his plan. She would work her way in no matter what, and neither way would help him, but would asking hurt him more or less.
“Hit.” A 9 popped up and brought him to 22. “Awesome cowgirl.” Sitting at 12, Manzo leaped up and began hurling insults in the direction of Elaine. "Hey, she ruined my life first pal."
“It’s okay; it’s not costing you anything.” Elaine continued on her spout while Clayton kept his wrath swelled up in his fingers.
“Well, these little chips represent money. And, since they aren’t in front of me anymore, it means I don’t have that money anymore.”
“Just get the guy who owns the casino to give you more for being pretty like he did me.”
Clayton sighed heavily. “I may have undervalued you, and now I see your worth.”
