"Fortune," said Don Westie to his spouse, as soon as he had seen
them, "is arranging matters for us better than we could have hoped.
Look there where ten or more monstrous giants rise up, all of whom I
mean to engage in battle and slay, and with whose spoils we shall
begin to make our fortunes. For this is righteous warfare, and it is
God's good service to sweep so evil a breed from off the face of the
earth."
"What giants?" said Ms. Westie.
"Those you see there," answered Don Westie, "with the many arms."
"Look, Don Westie. "What we see there are not giants but casinos, and
what seem to be their arms are video poker machines."
"It is easy to see," replied Don Westie, "that you are not used to
this business of adventures. Those are giants, and if you are afraid,
away with you out of here and betake yourself to prayer, while I
engage them in fierce and unequal combat."
So saying, he gave spur to his steed, heedless of the cries Ms.
Westie sent after him, warning him that most certainly they were
casinos and not giants he was going to attack. He, however, was so
positive they were giants that he neither heard the cries nor
perceived, near as he was, what they were.
"Fly not, cowards and vile beings," he shouted, "for a video poker
player attacks you." "Though ye flourish more arms than the great
octopus ye shall have to reckon with me!" exclaimed Don Westie. With
money and slot card in hand, he charged at fullest gallop and
attacked Borgata which stood in front of him. But as he charged at
the casino he was continuously thrown for a loss.
Ms. Westie came to his assistance with additional funds as fast as
she could whenever she found Don Westie crumpled on the ground and
broke.
"God Bless me!" said Ms. Westie, "did I not tell you to watch what
you were doing, because they were casinos and not giants?
"Silence, Ms. Westie," replied Don Westie. "The fortunes of video
poker more than any other are liable to frequent fluctuations.
Moreover I think, and it is the truth, that the same sage Boyd who
supplied our slot cards turned giants into casinos in order to rob me
of the glory of vanquishing them, such is the enmity he bears me. But
in the end his wicked games will avail but little against my skill."
It was at this point that I awoke with a start from my afternoon nap
and I headed down to the casino with less than my usual enthusiasm.
Ms. Westie had preceded me and was already deep in the hole from
playing video poker. I had even worse luck and ended up returning to
the room much sooner than anticipated.
Since the dates of this trip coincided with our 31st wedding
anniversary, I popped the cork on a bottle of Canella Prosecco di
Conegliano, an excellent spumante. Dinner tonight was at Casa di
Napoli in the Showboat. I asked our waiter if salads were included
in the price of the pasta dishes and he said he would give us iceberg
salads. We declined and requested shared portions of their Caesar's
salad. A basket of delicious bread, two types, was soon delivered
fresh from the oven with an excellent olive oil based dipping sauce.
Our ½ orders of capellini in pommodoro sauce with crab, mushrooms,
and artichokes were once again outstanding and more than enough for
each of us. We were surprised when our bill arrived with no charge
included for the salads our tip reflected our appreciation for the
extra service provided. This meal was truly a bargain when the
Entertainment discount was applied.
I was too tired to wage further battle, but Ms. Westie again took it
to Borgata or at least tried.
I awoke early on Wednesday with a positive attitude if not net
worth. I figured this being our anniversary only good things would
happen - wrong! Too soon I returned to the room whimpering with my
tail between my legs. After breakfast in the room, we decided to
play 5 cent 9/6 JOB at Trump Plaza in order to kill time before the
shops at the Walk opened. My (bad) luck continued and I ended up
walking much of the Boardwalk while Ms. Westie stuck it to The
Donald. We subsequently walked the Walk where Ms. Westie's new found
profits were invested in a pair of jeans and a coordinated loafing,
oops jogging outfit. Not to be outdone I scored a candy cane colored
sweater I can hardly wait for the Yuletide season.
We were both starved so we settled on the nearby Subway where we
split a very messy grilled chicken breast sub. On our return we
retired to our room where we read and napped before Ms. Westie
decided to further engage Borgata in a tug-of-war for the Westies'
bankroll. I wisely stayed on the sidelines preferring to do battle
at a later time. It was still early on her return so we decided to
have a brew at the ever so classy Mickey's Raw Bar and Emporium in
Brigantine nothing is too good for Ms. Westie on our anniversary.
Our dinner this evening was at Girasole, a highly acclaimed Italian
eatery situated on Pacific Avenue between the Trop and Hilton. The
restaurant's appointments are gorgeous and fresh sunflowers adorn
each table. Our spiffily attired waiter ran through the evening's
specials and that was pretty much the last we saw of him at our
table. Our next waitperson took our orders and a plate of cold, but
very good bread was soon delivered to our table along with olive
oil. We chose the mozzarella, proscuitto, pepperoni and pomodori
appetizer that proved to be delicious again another member of the
waitstaff served us. Ms. Westie chose the spinach ravioli in a sauce
of basil and fresh tomatoes. These house made ravioli were like
cumulus clouds soft, fluffy and heavenly. My entrée was the
tagliolini con gamberi e rucola shrimp and arugula in sauce made
from fresh tomatoes. The downer was origin of the sauce was
obviously canned tomatoes and the shrimp were overcooked. Our
service problems continued when no one inquired about our meal or
returned to clear the table for many minutes after we finished the
meal. It was like we were invisible. I was able to flag down the
waitress when she delivered the check to the next table. I am not
sure if using a restaurant.com gift certificate was the reason for
the spotty service or if it was merely a case of our bad luck.
The Borgata was staging a Motley Crue concert this evening and the
crowd roaming the casino walkways on our return was very interesting.
Green hair - purple hair - orange hair here, there and I suspect
everywhere. Tattoos here tattoos there and I suspect tattoos
everywhere. This was probably the most tattooed group of people
this side of a Rockabilly Weekend at the Gold Coast. After three laps
around the casino, I decided to settle in for R&R, reading and rest.
Ms. Westie chose to give dame fortune one last go before retiring
sometime around 11:30PM.
My predawn session on Thursday was a certified disaster and I wisely
chose to give up just as my billfold turned empty. Our return to
Connecticut was notable only by the absence of construction delays
and the liberation of Max-the-Schipperke from the vet.
Although the Curse of the Bambino was lifted in 2004, the Curse of
the Borgata continues unabated as this concludes our 16th trip
without a royal. A weaker, some might say wiser, man might haven
given up by now, but I am resolute in my resolve to continue the
quest.
To dream ... the impossible dream ...
To fight ... the unbeatable foe ...
To bear ... the financial sorrow ...
To travel ... where the brave dare not go ...
To right ... the unrightable wrong ...
To love ... pure and chaste from afar ...
To play ... when your arms are too weary ...
To reach ... the unreachable star ...
This is my quest, to follow that star ...
No matter how hopeless, no matter how far ...
To draw for the royal, without question or pause ...
To be willing to march into Hell, for this rewarding cause ..