Chapter 1

I grunted a noncommital greeting in the general direction of the guy joining my table as the dealer turned over her 20, making my 19 a loser and raking in my latest contribution to the continued prosperity of the fine establishment. I turned my eyes away from the new guy and signaled the waitress for another drink as I pushed another 5 dollar chip into the circle. I was playing third base, and had been for a while now. I tried to remember what day it was, with little success. A quick glance around the casino floor told me it was probably a weekday, though which one was impossible to say. My cards came to roost in front of me and I glanced unsurprisingly down at my Queen-Six combination. The dealer turned up her card and showed a Jack. I hit my 16 and received the six of clubs. Another fiver down the tubes. New Guy had gotten a 14, hit it, and pulled a seven for his troubles. 21 and a winner. I wished for him to get some sort of aneurysm right there on the spot. Nobody should have a smile that bright on a Tuesday (what the hell, a weekday's a weekday, and today just felt like a Tuesday) morning. I took a quick glance, but no sign of an aneurysm in his immediate future. Pity.

I shifted a bit on my stool and creaked as I did so. I straightened a bit and started to stretch, but my back severely protested and stopped me short. I did a quick internal rallying of the troops and managed to coerce my back into getting with the program. I stretched long and hard, feeling my back do it's best impression of dry kindling being put through a meat grinder. I sat back and declined to place a bet for the next round. New Guy gleefully put in 50 bucks' worth. Guess he was feeling lucky. I looked down at my meager stack of chips and started trying to remember exactly how long I had been in this particular seat. I distinctly remembered sitting down at some point. I had started with about 600 bucks (they had actually been able to cash the disability check at the casino cashier). From the looks of things, I hadn't done so hot. I had about 45 bucks left in front of me, and a quick shuffle through my pockets didn't produce much more than some lint and a receipt for a large Diet Coke I bought at the McDonald's downstairs. I looked blearily at the receipt, looking for a clue as to what day it might be. The receipt was from last week, I realized. So much for that bright idea.

An exploded oath brought my attention back to the table as New Guy watched the dealer draw six cards to a 21, beating his pair of tens. Guess it wasn't meant to be, Jack. He glowered at the dealer as if it were her fault, then stalked off. I watched him leave with a slight smile on my face. He was probably going to be in BIG trouble when he got home. I imagined that Wifey was wondering where he had been and was expecting to go out to dinner with that money he had just thrown away in two hands. Poor schmoe. Oh well. I looked up as the dealer clapped her hands and stepped away from the table. A new dealer stepped in and looked at me. Her nametag said "Mindy", and I knew her from somewhere. I couldn't quite place where, but pushed a chip in for the next hand while I pondered it. My drink arrived and I declined to tip the waitress, since it looked like the cup was half water. I guess she hadn't been exactly thrilled with my steady diet of dollar tips.

As I busted another hand (pulled a King against my 12), I finally couldn't help it.

"Mindy, do I know you from somewhere? You look real familiar to me, but I can't place it."

She glanced at me, contempt in her eye, but remained polite.

"Well, Sir, when I left for the day yesterday, you were sitting where you are right now. I would assume that, since you seem to be wearing the same clothes, you haven't left."

I pondered that as I took a long drink of my watered-down whiskey. She might have a point, I mused. I had been sitting there for a while (as my back could certainly testify), come to think of it.

"Sorry, Ma'am. What day IS today, anyway?" I made a quick fling in the direction of politeness, just for form's sake.

"Tuesday," she replied shortly.

I knew it.

My bladder then sent a Pony Express message to my brain, letting me know that it had been quite some time since I'd last visited the men's room. I collected the remainder of the chips in front of me and started to stand up. My legs refused to cooperate, telling everyone who could hear that they were quite comfortable where they were. A rapid internal dialogue between my bladder and legs got everyone on the same page, and I creaked alarmingly to my feet and started to hobble away.

"Good Luck, Sir!" Mindy called after me. Insolent.

The emergency handled, I stood in front of the restrooms and thought through my options. I could take a run at it with my remaining fortune, or I could head home. Neither option sounded too good, with my legs and back proclaiming loudly that if I were to sit down again, I could forget about any help from them when it came time to move again. I sighed mentally as I decided it was probably time to head home. This being Tuesday, it meant I had been here all night and all day, at least once over. I was pretty sure I had come in Sunday evening, though it was hard to say. The beautiful thing about a casino is that they keep you drinking for free. Sure, the stuff is watered down, and cheap to boot, but who can argue with free? And there's always a chance that you might get all your money back, with interest. Though I couldn't quite attest to that personally.

I wiped my hands on my trenchcoat and started to shuffle towards the exit. I thought about cashing out my remaining chips, but I knew I'd be back soon enough that it wouldn't matter. I'd just have to get new chips then, and after so much time I felt somewhat attached to these ones. As I drew near the exit, I could see sunshine streaming in through the glass entrance doors. Well, at least it wasn't Tuesday NIGHT, I suppose, though it really didn't matter. Not like I had anything to do or anywhere to be. Though I guess the wife might disagree with one, if not both of those.

I left the casino, bowing my head and blinking fiercely against the sun beating down. Unbidden, my feet took a right and started heading for home sweet home. I walked a few blocks, admiring the tops of my shoes the whole way, counting steps internally, as always, as I hobbled home. Seventy-one, Seventy-two, Seventy-three, stoplight. I was able to see the handicapped ramp, so I knew I was right. I sighed and looked up to check the light. Red. This was a major intersection, so I knew I was in for a wait. Luckily my apartment was right on the other side, in the charming little project squatting on the corner like an infected walrus. The lovely dry rot was offset perfectly by the red and blue graffiti war that raged on relentlessly.

I turned my head as a young lady approached, heading the same way as I. She looked around 14 or 15, at best, a young exotic-looking Asian beauty wearing less material than I use to blow my nose with. A gold tube top strained against her young, pert tits, while her short-shorts showed exactly as much as she wanted them to. Her expression was one of boredom as she punched the 'wait' button three times, then settled in to pop her gum. She glanced at me, noticing my scrutiny with a touch of interest. A potential client, perhaps?