The next morning I woke up all sick, sober and sorry. I got cleaned up then headed back to the veterans club. I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down at the bar where I could see into the casino. A coule of seats down sat the slot attendents husband. He was giving me a steely glare. I looked into the casino and a slot tech was on one of the machines. Jim was standing there looking over his shoulder.
I turned back around and sipped my coffee. Then I got a tap on the shoulder. It was Jim.
"The technician says you're right, Mickey."
"Where you gonna set the meters?" I asked
"We're gonna put the Four Aces on $200 and the Aces Full on $50."
"That's good, Jim."
"I took a look at the numbers this morning. We've been losing money on those machines for over two months."
"Well, this should solve your problem, Jim."
The slot attendents husband, who could hear the conversation, was still giving me the steely glare.
"C'mon into the casino" Jim said. "I'll introduce you to the technician."
"No, No, Jim. No need for that."
"Well, anyway, thanks Mickey" he said as he walked away.
I looked over at the slot attendents husband. He was still giving me the steely glare.
"Stare all you want, Puke!" I said to him. Then I got up and walked out the door.
This story is dedicated to Corporal Cecil Lane Crimm, USMC, killed in action 21 July 1944. The uncle I never met. I live the freedom he fought and died for.
