Cesear's Palace

I remember you coming home from the casino. The way you smelt of cigar smoke and stale whiskey. It was a masculine smell, like strength and answers. And every night when you said you broke even I believed you. I was young and naive. More then that I trusted you in the way only a son can trust his father. Did you lose it all slowly? Or was there one moment where you gave it all away? Pocket Aces. An Ace high flop. Your heart jumped. You fancied yourself a hero. Bills paid. Debts forgiven. In that moment you were the perfect husband and father. You shoved all your chips into the pot without thinking. This one a house. These few a wife and two kids. Hundreds of tiny plastic pieces of all of us. Everything into the center. The quickness and confidence with which he called your bet startled you. Carelessness and egoism made you miss the flush draw. He hit a spade on the river and in a moment you lost everything. You cried as watched him count the chips. On that day I was born. The dealer took me up, wrapped me in green felt ripped from the table. I cried uncontrolably for nourishment. They called a cocktail waitress with bleached blonde hair and a butterfly tattoo on the small of her back to nurse me. She tried her best but her silicone breasts yielded nothing. I cried. The pit boss pityed me and dipping his fingers into a comped gin and tonic baptized me. A fat man from upper management came and collected me from the casino floor. In a small upper room I was poked and appraised. He took out a spreadsheet from a filing cabinet and listed my name under the profits column.