Luc Be a Lady

Foreword: Yeah, I know it's a long one. It just ended up flowing on me. It could fit in a couple different categories, so I hope everyone enjoys. Don't forget feedback!

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“Holy shit, I don’t fuckin’ believe it.”

That was all I could say after I checked my tickets. First off, my 6/49 lottery ticket had five out of six winning numbers, which according to the payout sheet paid $3,147.52 (Canadian). That was the bad news. The good news was the Pro-Line sports betting ticket that I had played. It was all long shots on baseball games. Stuff like the Tampa Bay to beat the Yankees by 2+ and the under. Cincinnati to beat Arizona by 2+ and the over. With my wager and all the multipliers, the Pro-Line ticket netted me $6,199.00. So I had close to ten thousand dollars of winning tickets in my hand and my head was spinning, wondering where to start.

Well the first place to start was at my boss’s office, faking a sick gravelly voice and telling him I wasn’t feeling well. Mission Accomplished. The second was to drive into Toronto to the Ontario Lottery and Gaming Corporation offices and cash in my tickets. Armed with my winnings, I headed to the local branch of my bank to get the OLGC cheques cashed. Once I had the envelope stuffed with fifties and one-hundreds in hand, I had a decision to make. What to do with my money. Something the cashier at the bank said was resonating around my head.

“This must be your lucky day. If I were you I’d ride it for all it’s worth.”

Ride… maybe I should take it to the track. Mohawk and Woodbine racetracks were not to far away, maybe I could head on out and play the ponies. That thought lasted about two hot seconds before I dismissed it. I didn’t know a goddamn thing about horses, and the money would be gone in no time. The next thought that struck me was to head to a casino. There were a few casinos in Southern Ontario, three of them, in fact, with in driving distance. The one in Brantford I dismissed immediately: I’d heard it was almost all slot machines, and that didn’t appeal to me. So that left two options: Casino Rama in Orillia, about a two hour drive north of Toronto, or Casino Niagara in Niagara Falls. I thought Orillia at first, but as it was a Friday in June, the 400 North would probably be clogged solid with cottagers trying to escape the city. That, and I’d always loved the drive to Niagara. My decision made, I headed home, packed some stuff to stay away for the weekend, and headed south.

Well, west first. You have to go around Lake Ontario to get to Niagara from Toronto, and it seemed interminable, although it only took 45 minutes, to make the first leg of my journey through all the smaller cities that blended into one another. Mississauga, Oakville, Burlington. Then you made the big sweeping bend through Hamilton and then you were south of the Lake heading east, and to the part of the drive that I loved, where you went through smaller and smaller towns. Stoney Creek, Grimsby, Beamsville, until there were just nameless hamlets, and trees, and vineyards, with the lake only two hundred yards on your left and the Niagara Escarpment on your right, so close it seemed you could touch it at some points. A peaceful, tranquil drive, steaming along through Niagara Wine Country at 130 km/h (until you get to the Seventh Street turn-off. The Ontario Provincial Police love to set up speed traps there).

As I peeled off the Q.E.W. onto the 420, I really started to get excited. I’d accompanied some friends to Casino Niagara before, only bringing a couple of bucks with me, burning through that quickly on Video Poker while they played whatever. This time however, I was going to have some fun, no matter what luck held for me that day. Highway 420 is a very short expressway, turning into a regular street, and that street led you directly to the Casino. I drove past all the cheap parking vendors that I had parked at before and headed right for the hotel adjacent to the Casino. If I was coming down here, I was staying in style.

I turned my car over to the valet at the hotel, and headed for the check in. Breezing past the gift shop (the one thing I hate about Niagara Falls: all the Canadiana kitsch), I headed for the front desk, greeted by a cherubic young girl, who eagerly sold me my room for the next two nights, giving me a run down of all the amenities that the hotel had to offer, gave me a room key, and welcomed me to Niagara Falls.

I headed right upstairs to my room, the second floor from the top. The room was packed with goodies, like a Jacuzzi, a good-sized, well-stocked mini-bar, a king sized bed and a balcony overlooking the Falls. It wasn’t cheap, but hell, for once I could afford to spoil myself. I made myself a double rye on the rocks, sat back and enjoyed the view, smiling as I looked back and forth between the Horseshoe Falls on the Canadian side and the American Falls on the… well, American side. I smiled as I watched. The Canadian side was way better.

I sat in my room, just relaxing as I looked over the tourist’s information provided in the room. Nothing really held my interest. I was here for one reason and one reason only: To test my luck. As I thought it over, two words sprung into my mind. ‘Sundowner’ and ‘Seductions’, two of the best strip clubs I had visited in my life, were side by side on Lundy’s Lane, and I quickly formulated a back-up plan. If my luck turned cold as hell on the Casino floor, and I was planning on losing all my winnings anyways, then I would cover myself in lap-dancers for the night and live like Hugh Hefner. There are far worse was to whittle away money.

I knocked back the rest of my drink, checked my look in the mirror, and caught then next elevator to the main floor. The doors to the elevator opened and the first thing that struck me was the Hard Rock Café, which is part of the hotel/casino complex. I looked inside as I walked past the restaurant and thought I might stop in later for a Hendrix Burger, or whatever was on the musically themed menu. I turned my attention from the restaurant to the escalators that led to the gaming floors, smiling as I approached my destination.

I smiled from ear to ear as I stepped off the escalator at the non-smoking floor. Stepping forward and looking around, I mulled over my options. The most striking and obvious option was the slot machines, but I had no interest in them. The feed-a-token-and-pull-the-handle routine left a too much to chance for my liking, and I preferred games where I had a little more control. Over to my left were some Blackjack tables, which seemed to strike my fancy, and I took a seat at one of the higher minimum tables.

The dealer was a bored looking, forty-something guy who looked like he’d rather be doing anything than flipping cards, but the cards sure liked him in my first few games. I busted on my first three hands, and he beat me on the next two. The sixth game was no different, with me holding a jack and a two, and with him showing a nine. I shook my head, and tapped at the table for him to hit me, knowing full well what the result was going to be. The only surprise was that the exact card I had pictured getting showed up in from of me, and the queen of diamonds made me bust. I was getting the distinct feeling this table was cold and was about to leave when, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted this hot little blonde have a seat beside me. She looked over at me, gave a little polite smile and plunked down her chip to join the game. I had no reason to believe anything positive would come out of playing another hand at that particular table, but stuck around anyways. As the dealer laid out the cards for then next game, I tried to be discreet in looking over the new player. Long blonde hair, very very pretty face, a sweet little curvaceous body on her petite frame, and dressed classy and elegantly in a little red dress with matching red heels. I was still looking at her when the dealer’s voice brought me back to reality, “Black Jack.”

“Hmm?” was my reply, and I looked down to my hand to see an ace and a king staring back at me. My face still registered shock as the dealer pushed two chips towards me to go alongside my bet, and continued dealing for my tablemate. She won as well, and turned and smiled a little more warmly at me. I looked into her blue eyes while I returned the smile, and was mildly annoyed at the dealer’s monotone, bored voice saying, “Will that be your bet for the next hand, sir?” I shot him a little dirty look as I took the two extra chips off the table and resumed playing.

Somehow, starting with that game, my luck changed for the better. I only lost two out of the next fifteen hands, getting Black Jack six times, and far making up for my initial slump at the table. Red Dress beside me didn’t fare so well, seeming to only break even after all that play, and got up to leave. She looked at me, smiled warmly again and said sweetly, “Good luck.”

“Thanks, eh.” I replied, “You too.” I watched those shapely legs walk away from the table and turned back to the game. Then I proceeded to lose the next four games. When the dealer pointed at the betting spot to ask if I wanted to play again, I got up from the table. “The girl leaves, and my luck goes with it,” I said with a wry smile, “What are the odds.”

“Go figure,” the dealer replied with a tired, sardonic tone to his voice. I only responded with a look that said ‘fuck you’ and walked away. I headed for the main aisle again, wondering where to head next. As I looked around the floor, the pink neon of a restaurant on that floor beckoned to me. My stomach gurgled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and I headed inside the place to get one of their steak sandwiches. The restaurant was an elevated one, and as I munched on the sandwich, I looked down at the floor, trying to decide where to take my luck next. While I pondered my options, I also looked around for Red Dress again. I knew it was fruitless trying to find one person in the sea of humanity down there, and gave up, instead deciding to shoot some craps once I was done with my dinner.

The cheque settled and my stomach full, I made my way over to one of the less busy craps tables. Again, this was a higher minimum table and there were only a few players surrounding it. I quickly wished a few more were playing, as the shooter’s touch was stone cold, throwing sevens at all the wrong times, ruining my Pass and Point bets. My eyes were glazing over as the elderly gentleman’s third seven in eight throws killed $80 dollars of my money from the table. It was all good for him however, as his sevens were paying dividends for him on his Don’t Pass bet, the whole one chip he had laid on the table.

I was grumbling under my breath, about to decide if this was the game for me, when the dealer shouted “Alright, we have a new shooter!” I glanced over in a nonplussed fashion over at the end of the table to see the elderly gentleman walking away with his winnings, but my mood lightened considerably when I saw Red Dress slide in. She saw me and smiled again, this time warmly in a familiar kind of way, and took hold of the dice. I quickly placed a $40 bet on Pass, and on a hunch, placed a $40 bet on Any Seven. The blonde rolled the dice between her hands then casually threw them down the table. A Five and a Two. My mouth was agape as the dealer slid $40 dollars to match my Pass bet, and $160 dollars to accompany my Any Sevens bet. I smiled at Red Dress, and she at me as she saw my good fortune.

She continued to throw lucky strikes for the entire time the dice was in her hands. There were a couple of long, drawn out series while I waited for her to throw the Point after the Come Out roll, but it all ended up working out for me, and I didn’t lose while she was the shooter. Alas, her luck was again mixed, and she surrendered the dice to someone else. As soon as I saw her start to leave the table, my instruction to the dealer was immediate, “Tray, please.” I slid the stacks of my winnings in the provided tray, and ran after her. She hadn’t gotten very far.

“Hey,” I said as I came up beside her, “I can’t let you get too far away. You’re my good luck charm. I’m Brock, by the way.” I extended my hand with my introduction.

“Stacy,” she said, looking at me with a funny smile that said she thought I was insane, but shook my hand anyways. “I’m glad my luck is working out for someone, I’m not doing that well myself.” I smiled as I listened to her voice, her Western New York State accent adding to my attraction to her.

“Well the least I can do is buy you a drink. I feel like I owe you a little something for this,” I held up the three-stack tray filled with casino chips. Her eyes went wide as she saw all the chips.

“You won all that at the craps table?” she started to laugh a little. I nodded and showed her how much I started with, and how much her presence at the Blackjack table and her shooting at craps netted me. She happily accepted my drink offer, and we headed to one of the many small bars on the casino floor.

We ended up talking for about ninety minutes over a couple of drinks. It was one of those discussions where, although you’ve just met someone, you feel like you’ve known them for years. I can’t remember one awkward pause, or any disagreement in our conversation. While we talked, I saw her beautiful blue eyes soften even more, her head tilt to the side a little as I talked, felt her hand brush mine when she talked, and all the while I felt myself more and more drawn to her. She had come to Niagara Falls with a friend of hers who was visiting from Colorado, and they decided to skip across the border and have some fun over here. She was telling a funny little story about what happened to her and her friend while they were crossing the border, and as she started laughing her hand landed on my thigh and stayed there. After we stopped laughing, her hand stayed on my thigh, her eyes gazing deeply into mine, her lips slightly parted while she smiled at me. I knew I didn’t want to let this one go.

I suggested we play a couple more games of something. She was hesitant at first but when I said I’d bankroll her, she shrugged and said ‘why not’. We walked towards the roulette tables, and I tentatively wrapped my arm around her shoulder, hoping it wasn’t too forward. On the contrary, she leaned into me a little as I guided her to one of the less busy tables. We arrived at the rail of the table, looking over the sparse number of bets placed by the players. She took a small stack of chips out of my tray, and made a couple of random bets, and I did likewise. The dealer spun the ball around the wheel, and when it landed, as it seemed to go prior to our drink, Stacy had mixed luck with her bets, but four of the five bets I placed came up roses. Red, Odd, Top Half and the Corners bet all came up for me, adding to my booty for the night.

“I’m telling you, its because you are with me. I’m up three thousand dollars tonight, and that’s all your doing.” I was grinning from ear to ear as I spoke. We placed our bets for the next spin, and continued bantering back and forth, with me insisting she was the source of my good fortune, and she protesting that it was just happenstance. Our discussion was halted by the ball coming to a stop, with me again coming out with four of the five placed bets I made coming up winners. I looked at her with an expression that said ‘see?’. She responded by just shaking her head. I smiled and said, “I’ll prove it. What’s your birthday?”

Stacy looked at me, unsure of where I was going and replied, “August 28th. Why?”

My face was full of confidence as I took a stack of chips out of my tray, ten one-hundred dollar chips, the table maximum, and placed it on Black 28.

Stacy’s eyes went wide, “Brock, that’s crazy, that’s a thousand dollars. You can still take it off the table.” I wasn’t worried. I was aware that the odds were hopelessly against me, but I was way up, and I was playing with the house’s money. Even if I bombed out on this pick, the money I won more than paid for my accommodations for the weekend, and any fun I could dream up of to indulge in. I still had this smug smile on my face, looking at Stacy, when I heard the clatter of the ball settling into it’s destination, and her eyes went wide again.

I thought to my self ‘Naw, it couldn’t be’, and had started to turn to the wheel, when I heard the dealer clear his throat and in a shocked voice call out “Black 28.”

I looked at the ball sitting in the Black 28 spot, and I did the simple math: one thousand dollars, multiplied by 35 to 1 odds, equaled $35,000. The first two words out of my mouth were a quiet, “Holy fuck.” The second two words were directed at the dealer, a little hoarse as I said, “Cash Out.”

The pit boss came over to witness the paying out of my table winnings, when added to my previous winnings from the past few spins, totaled $35,860, added to my other game winnings of $3,520, and my lottery winnings of $9,346.52, meant that in 24 hours I had earned more than I had made in the last fifteen months of working. Best of all, according to Canadian tax law, it was all tax-free. The pit boss and security then accompanied me to the front desk of the hotel where I deposited all but $4,000 in the house safe. I stood there in the hotel lobby after all the casino staff had left, with Stacy and myself just staring and smiling at one another.

“So, did you wanna get some dinner? I’m buying.” She laughed at that and those gorgeous blue eyes of hers looked deeply into mine as she nodded and said yes. “Well, lets see,” I continued, “There’s Rumours or The Hard Rock Café or…” I decided to press my luck one more time tonight, “…room service…”

I half expected Stacy to slap my face and storm off. Instead she cocked her head with a coy expression on her face, which spread into that warm grin of hers, as she said, “Alright. Room service it is.”

We headed to the elevator, and stepped inside as the doors opened. The elevator was empty, and I was looking forward to getting us upstairs and comfortable when I heard “Hold the elevator.” An arm slid in between the doors just as it was about to close, opening it back up, and suddenly ten people crashed into the elevator with us, pressing me back against the back wall with Stacy pressed right up to me face to face. Her hands were pressed against my chest and I held her at the waist as the invading party talked loudly and drunkenly. We paid no attention to them as we looked at each other, my hands gripping her waist a little tighter. The door opened at the floor the others had called, and as they all stepped out onto their floor, Stacy stayed exactly where she was, not moving away from me, her hands still on my chest. We were still gazing into each other’s eyes when the last of the drunken bastards looked back into the elevator just as the doors were closing, seeing the embrace Stacy and I were in and yelled out, “WoooHooo, someone’s getting lucky tonight!”

I blushed and shot a furious glance to the now-closed elevator doors, flustered and hoping Peckerhead hadn’t spoiled the mood. Stacy responded by grabbing my chin, turning my face to hers, and kissing me so very softly, grazing her lips along mine, a slow tender kiss that made me close my eyes and moan. It was a wonderful moment, and was interrupted by the elevator bell signaling we had arrived on my floor.

We walked to my room door, and once inside, Stacy marveled at the interior and sat on one of the very comfortable couches, getting relaxed as I poured a couple of drinks. We continued our conversation from earlier at the bar as we sat close to one another, holding hands, our thumbs tickling the backs of the other’s hand.

“Wow, this is an amazing room, it’s way bigger than mine on the 11th floor…” Stacy said as she looked around the room again, then her face went pale like something had come over her and said, “My room… Oh my god, Tess!”