how her co-workers were plotting against her. She worked at JCPenney for fuck’s sake. Do women have nothing better to do than pretend the world cares about them?
“Sally, pick a fucking station already.”
“Fine. Fine. Dick,” she said.
She finally landed on a classic rock station outside of Cleveland playing the Eagles’ Hotel California. Twice in one day.
He took that as a good omen.
When they reached the casino, he drove past the valet to self-parking. Sally gave him a dirty look for that one. Well, excuuuuse meeeee if he wanted to save a few bucks. They walked across the freezing parking lot, the sky opening up with a furious wind that whipped the snow around their heads like Dorothy’s twister. How many times did he see The Wizard of Oz on those fucking Movie Fridays with Kate Reese and her weird son?
You miss her, Jerry.
But she doesn’t miss you.
That voice. That pain-in-the-ass voice. It told him, go ahead. Drink all night. Gamble. Take road trips. Fish with the guys. Hunt with your cousins. Nothing you do will ever take this thought away.
She’s the best you’ll ever get, Jerry. And she’s gone.
He knew that Kate Reese was out there, somewhere. She was probably with some new guy. Letting him have her body. Touching him everywhere. The feeling made him sick. It made his stomach angry. He had to get to the casino floor. Get a real drink. Make it stop.
“Sally, hurry the fuck up,” he shouted.
“You try to walk on this shit in heels,” Sally barked.
The doors opened to a cloud of cigarette smoke hovering over the white noise of slots and video poker. Sally had to pee. Of course. It was barely 10:00 a.m., but Jerry sat at the bar and guzzled a double Tanqueray with a little tonic water. The drink burned like a good workout, but it still wasn’t enough. He needed a distraction to get rid of that voice. He looked around and found that someone had left a newspaper on the bar.
It was some Pittsburgh newspaper.
From a couple of months ago.
Jerry looked for the sports page, but of course, some low-life had already grabbed it. So, he leafed through the rest of the rag. The Middle East crisis was still going on. Jesus. That’s still considered news? Tell me when the crisis stops. Then, I’ll buy a paper. And the refugees? I have an idea. Get on your feet and start walking north. How fucking hard is that to figure out? Who sits still when the world is coming to an end around them? Fucking idiots. That’s who.
Jerry turned the page to the life section and saw a headline, “Boys Find Skeleton in Woods.” He was about to look down at the picture when Sally walked up with her caked-on face and an empty bladder.
“God, it smells like hell in there,” she said.
Jerry threw down the newspaper and threw himself into blackjack. It wasn’t usually his game, but something told him to sit down and start small. Call it a voice. He split two queens and remembered how Kate Reese told him that the queen’s face on a playing card was the portrait of Queen Elizabeth. He got two aces and won a hundred bucks. He ordered another gin and tonic. Kate said that the drink was invented by British soldiers in some war or another. The tonic water prevented malaria somehow.
You miss her, Jerry.
She’s fucking somebody else, Jerry.
Jerry ordered two more drinks over Sally’s objections that it wasn’t even noon, and he was already getting drunk. But he didn’t care. Because that pain-in-the-ass voice had a different edge to it today. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something that made him feel invincible.
So, he decided to take it out for a spin.
He looked at the cards on the table. The dealer gave him a pain-in-the-ass 13. But for some reason, he just knew it would be okay. Fuck it. There’s four 8s in the deck, right? He hit, and he got his 8. Another 21. Another fifty bucks. He did it again with a 12. And again with an 18. A crowd began to gather around him. He knew what they were all thinking. Who is this low-life in the Lions cap with this trashy slut, who looks like she learned how to put on her makeup at a clown college?
I’ll tell you who I am, assholes.
I’m the motherfucker who can’t lose today.
The voice told him to only bet ten bucks on the next hand.