Back in the day I enjoyed a flutter here and there. You know
a wager. A little bet more or less. In my single bouncing around days in the
eighties I enjoyed going down to Atlantic City. Vegas. Reno. Tahoe. Aqueduct.
Belmont. Monmouth. The Meadowlands. Yonkers. Monticello. All of the very few
places where gambling was legal.
When I was bouncing I had a group of like-minded souls who
also enjoyed the ponies or a little black jack. They were from various walks of
life. A couple of guys I knew from the neighborhood. A few I had met at the
casinos. We would travel down to AC or Vegas and hang out between bouts of
gambling. We had an agreement. We would get to the joint and then split up.
Every man for himself. Then we would meet up for a meal or for some drinks or
to see a fight or watch a game we might have wagered on. This way you weren’t
stuck at a table losing while you friend is chasing the tiger.
When you are a serious gambler you come to realize that the
only way you can survive is not to get addicted to the action. Because the more
you play the more you lose. That is why they open another big casino every
week. Well until recently as it is oversaturated since there are more casinos
than churches. But you get the idea. You find an angle on a good bet and you go
strong. Win or lose you walk away. That’s why I gradually drifted into sports
betting as my main vice. Especially boxing.
In those days there were a bunch of big money fights. Tyson
was in full flavor and you had people like Holyfield, Forman, Hagler, Hearns,
Sugar Ray Leonard and Roberto Duran. Lots of big fights to lay down some cash.
I did pretty good if I do say so myself. My biggest score was the Tyson/Holyfield fight. In fact I won a lot of money on Holyfield. I went to
several of his bouts. In fact it was at one of them that I met Mr. Trump.
It was the Holyfield vs George Forman bout at the old Boardwalk
Hall. This was situated on the boardwalk but it had connecting corridors with
the casinos next door. I went with my buddy from the neighborhood who belongs
to a fraternal organization with branches in Atlantic City. In fact at the time
he was especially close to the Philly branch that had a lot to do with the
linen services and the hotel unions that were heavily involved in the Atlantic
City casino business. So we got some pretty good seats and were comped up the
wazoo.
Anyhoo the fight is over and we are walking back through the
bridge way to the casino and suddenly a bunch of security guards stopped us. It
was the Donald and his famous mistress of the time Marla Mapes who later became
his wife. She was in a sparkly dress and was quite attractive but nothing crazy
great. There were a bunch of much better looking woman in the casino. Her most distinctive attribute was her hair. It was a dyed blond mane
that was all over the place. She looked like some sort of pampered pet. A
blond, curried, shy, retarded Palomino or something like that there.
The Donald
and Marla where walking from Boardwalk Hall through the corridor towards the
Trump Plaza. One of the Donald’s minions noticed us. Well actually my friend.
He whispered to the Donald and he came over to shake our hands. I am sure that
the Donald had no idea who Nunzie was or about the fraternal organization he
belonged to was doing. He was just told by his minion to say hello and that it
was important to be polite. “What a fight boys” he said. “Glad to see you are
coming over to the Plaza. You have to make sure you bring all your friends over
to the Taj Mahal now that it is finally finished. It’s going to be yuge!!!!”
Then they were whisked away by security. We followed in their wake and got to
the casino right quick.
We hung at the baccarat tables for a while but migrated over
to Caesars which is where we really had a hook. I never ran into Trump again in
my various forays into AC. He was definitely a presence there but I never really
enjoyed his joints. They were too glitzy and phony even for a casino. I much preferred
the Claridge or Caesars. The Plaza was run of the mill bullshit and the Taj Mahal was a
gross monstrosity. All of that is old news. Trump is on to a new wife that he
has been with for a while. Nunzie has passed after an unfortunate encounter
with a Gas Pipe later that year. I am on the short and narrow and a good boy.
No drinking and I watch what I eat and I haven’t gambled in a long time.
But you know what? The more I think about it the more I
think I might take a flutter. On Mr. Trump. Why not? What have we got to lose?
He's gonna be yuge!!!!!
2 comments:
Donald is wonderfully crass. As far as I'm concerned that's his strong point. The mere fact that he gives official pundits like George Will and Krauthammer the fantods, that's a closer for me. Not for the bright boys. For me. Fantods was a term ol' McKinley would toss around before his assassination ushered in the great TEDDY! Who was also wonderfully crass.
Great story. I've gone to Vegas and bet on football and BB and sometimes I had more fun watching the game and losing then winning. The question isn't whether Trump is perfect, its whether he's better then Jeb or the other losers running for President.
Of course, we can always double down and run Romney, Dole, or McCain again. Who knows? Maybe 00 would win.
Post a Comment