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08/08/2003: "Doctor Big"

Do you have a system to beat the casino? If the answer is no, you can have one if you want it, just read on. This is the story of Doctor Big vs The Mathematicians. In this corner, wearing white cotton shorts, a navy blue pullover, and a gray hooded sweatshirt is Doctor Big. She is cute, blond and blue-eyed, with a compact build and is pushing maybe 5 foot 3 inches tall in her denim, lucky, "casino" deck shoes. In the opposite corner, The Mathematicians. These girls are tall and leggie with long straight hair, one is blond with a ponytail and the other with red/brown hair and a single braid down the middle of her back. They're both wearing jeans and T-shirts with sandals on suntanned feet. The Mathematicians are sisters and they share open air, girl next door, good looks, but right now, their faces are determined, and their minds are closed. Click more..below.

They're not really in a ring, but a bar. I'm standing at the end of that bar, slurping the last of my second Hurricane up a fat plastic straw, and looking at the back of Doctor Big's head. She is describing, in detail, her consistently winning slot machine strategy to The Mathematicians, who are sitting on the stools next to her, and they are not buying it. Doctor Big, no slouch in the brains department and accustomed to being taken seriously, cranks it up a notch. She tells them that she learned her strategy, while socializing with Las Vegas casino workers, when she was working in Nevada just outside of town. The Mathematicians look at each other and their expressions become just a little more set.

The Mathematicians aren't rude, but they are the daughters and granddaughters of mathematicians. One of them teaches mathematics, and the other, my beloved, though she teaches English, is the one in her social set that everyone seeks out when they need something solved that is deeper than arithmetic can take you. And, worst of all, their Swedish, and the words chance and money, when found in the same sentence, do not compute in they're minds. Doctor Big knows all this, having grown up spending summers with them, but she is descended from Huguenots, so she sits up straighter, and with an air of decision, she turns toward me. Her face softens a little, but The Mathematicians only hear her voice, which has more than a little edge. "Do you have any money, cash, $200.00?" I nod, and she turns to my mathematician, the one with the long braid, whose brow is now rapidly clouding. "I can double your money, right now." All is quiet.

The Mathematicians look at each other and then at Doctor Big. Her gaze is steady and it's clear that she has them. Doctor Big has given them a chance to show her up, or eat their words. Even in their black little Swedish hearts, money, my money, is no longer an issue. I believe I can hear that spooky whistling, over the quiet, like in the Clint Eastwood spaghetti westerns, and lifting my now empty Hurricane glass toward Doctor Big, I suggest we go directly to the casino. They rise as one.

Her Bigness leads us through the casino, pointing out traffic patterns from and to banks of slots and the various doorways, bars, and washrooms on the floor. 'People have to believe they can win or they won't play,"she lectures, beaming, "it's all about making winners visible." She selects a pair of dollar slots. I split my money between the two machines, per instructions, and press only the double key, on each machine in turn. It goes - lose, lose, lose, win, and then lose, lose, lose, lose, win, and my stake gets a little smaller with each cycle. Come on, Your Bigness.

I can't see anybody's reaction because they are all behind me, deadly quiet, watching. I'm pulling, as hard as I can, for Doctor Big, and, of course, my money. Everyone loves a winnner, but I'm a special fan of the "star" mentality. That's where you paint yourself into such a tight corner that only God, or an act of pure genius, or both, can get you out intact. That is the stuff of great moments, and that's where the diminutive Huguenot had put herself. Then BANG, I'm only twelve dollars short of doubling my money. "Cash out, now," Doctor Big says, with authority.

The Mathematicians, awestruck, climb quietly into the back seat. And, as Doctor Big, who was driving her fathers new Buick, roars into the night, I topple against the passenger door, dreamlessly asleep.

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Replies: 1 Comment

Senor. My advice is to go to the library and examine every resource they have on getting material published. If nobody has ever told you, you are an extremely talented raconteur.

Al said @ 08/10/2003 07:13 AM CST