Just Off Center

Right now I feel all sad and vulnerable. I hate when this happens. Boys aren't meant to feel like this. After getting beat up to a certain point though I'm just about ready to curl up in the fetal position and take a month off of life. But I can't. So I'll just continue with my job and my life as it is and hope that nobody says anything to me that makes me want to cry/kill them.

We spent the weekend in Vegas. I love Vegas. You can win or lose, but the fun you can have is so unique. It's like no place else. This time we went because my little sister (and by little I mean 24) was being flown out with her entire work staff. She works for a gyno and this trip was their Christmas bonus. Since she was going to be so close, and she was bringing her kickass boyfriend Ryan, we couldn't pass up the chance. But problems arose just as soon as we arrived. We couldn't get her on the phone. She doesn't have voicemail. Who the fuck doesn't have voicemail in this day and age? But I ignored this and kept beating down the blackjack table for a couple hours while getting smashed on free drinks.

After meeting up with Pam at the historic, but utterly low-tier Riviera Hotel and Casino, Nina hit a full house on Let it Ride, netting 2.5 fresh C-notes for daddy. After that we hung out with Pam and her entire fucking crew in their hotel rooms for about nine days. After everyone decided what they were going to do with their evening, I went back down stairs to play some more. Pam played with me for about twenty minutes, then left to do something more interesting to her.

Saturday was pretty fun too. We played for about four hours and then one really nice dealer showed Nina how to play craps. This man will be on my shitlist forever. Nina played very well, but she didn't make herself the kind of money she was making for everyone else. Of course I still couldn't get Pam on the phone until that afternoon when she told me that she and everyone else were going to a friend's house for some barbecue. They picked me up in one of those limo-busses. It was kind of cool, but hokey at the same time. Pam's friends are idiots. They just kept saying shit to make them sound cool, but ending up sounding like junkie retards. The party turned out to be really lame. The host grilled up some dogs and chicken and steak. But there were no sides. So we all sat around eating meat. Then people started disappearing into rooms to do coke. I've never done it and probably never will. I'm just glad my sister didn't either. I spent most of the time watching Rocky II.

By the time we got back to the hotel, Nina had lost a couple hundred, but was ready to win it back. Everyone else wanted to do clubs and other bullshit. From this point on, Lady Luck abandoned us both. I don't mind when Nina has a run of bad luck. She's certainly been there through mine. We went to the Frontier and lost most hands. It happens. It's no fun to lose, especially when you're losing every hand you play. But that's Vegas, and if you can't stand the loss, don't gamble.

Sunday. This is when everything starts to break down. Nina and I get up later than usual (about 9) and start playing. We're both a little bit pissed off because my sister isn't trying to spend any time with either of us. She's just hanging out with her loser coworkers and her loser junkie friends, and their loser boyfriends and girlfriends who go about town losing all day in a constant state of general losership. I started to get ahead again. The first two blackjack shoes were good to me. After that we crashed and burned. In the last hour I was preparing to leave. I had a mellow beer buzz and had lost all of my money, so I was no longer enjoying myself and was ready to go home.

Nina made me smile again by joking and just being Nina. I was content for a minute. So I turned to this trashy little white girl with a boyfriend ten years her senior and asked if I could bum one of her Marlboro Lights. She threw a quick glance at her cradle robber and then looked at me like "who the fuck do you think you are". But then, without a word she tossed me one. I just passed it off as her having a bad morning like me. After another hand or two I had exhausted all possible resting place for a lighter or matches, so I asked her for a light from the one she had on the table and she came back with "fuck, do you want me smoke it for you too?" I'm sitting there stunned. Not only have I lost all of my money and been treated like a side bet by my sister, but I'm getting dressed down by a white trash skank who stays 15 against a 10.

Rather than get into a fight in the pit, I just move over to Nina and wait for her to be ready to go. After losing about seven in a row, Nina called it quits. She had already hand-carried all of our luggage to the luggage check room. I gave this old, bald, liver-spotted guy with a Russian accent my claim ticket and he appeared with my suitcase and cooler. I took them and stepped to the side. When he thought he wouldn't be getting a tip for his strenuous efforts he cracked out a "thanks for nothing". So now I'm really fuming and I could blow up the whole place. But I regain my composure, reach into my suitcase for my jacket, put it on, and start to walk away. The prick says "enjoy your luggage" and then makes a nasty "hock a loogie" noise as if to say he'd spit on my stuff to spite my non-tipping ass. I turned around, gave him the finger and left.

I talk tough a lot. But it's extremely rare to see me in a mood to really get in a fight. But at this moment if anyone had stepped to me I'd have gotten up to my neck in their ass. I get outside and wait for our car. When is shows up I tell the valet to pop the trunk, hand him two bucks and ask him to just put the one suitcase in the trunk while I put the cooler in the back. He takes my two dollars, says nothing, and walks away. He heard me. He just decided I was that customer to steal on. I let out a furious roar as I shove my suitcase in the trunk and start busting speed limits on my way out of town. Nina holds on, trying to calm me down, half out of love and half out of mortal fear from my driving. As we leave Nevada I'm still clutching the steering wheel and grinding my teeth. Suddenly, the entire world is wrong and I am being taken advantage of by everyone I know.

Nina's upset too, mainly about how I've been blown off by my selfish bitch of a sister. I start having epiphanies. I start rattling off example after example about how my family's never been there for me, getting more and more incensed. Nina doesn't want to see me angry, but this is maybe the first real opportunity she's had in a long time to truly speak freely about how she feels about my family. I feel used and shit on. I'm broke and I have a six-hour drive ahead of me. I feel like a loser from all the bad luck. I'm cussing and angry to the point of nearly tearing up. I know that chicks cry all the time when they get mad. But when a man starts feeling watery out of anger, he is to be dealt with gingerly.

So I get home and go to bed. This morning I'm feeling a lot of the same things, just time has passed and I'm thinking more clearly. I feel guilt about my feelings toward my family. I feel guilt for not standing up to the assholes who share my blood. I feel like a pussy for not jumping one of those fuckers at the casino. I feel guilty about getting so angry about losing my money. I wonder why my company is so easily discarded by my own kin and what it is about my personality that screams "bust on me!". Basically I just feel...fragile. And that's just about the shittiest thing a man can feel. I'm sure it will pass. But on this particular day, I just want to lock myself up in my house for about a week without speaking to or seeing anybody. Is this what women feel so often when they cry and close themselves off? If so, what a shit job. I can always take solace in knowing how rare these feelings emerge. But right now I just want someone to hold me and tell me it's all going to be O.K. And that makes me feel like the biggest pussy of all. Tread lightly. I may feel the need to prove otherwise.