Five years ago I went to a casino. I was invited by two co-workers to a gambling establishment just outside of San Diego.

I figured I would try my luck one more time.

The only other occasion I had to step foot into a casino was on my 24^th birthday. Dadisodes and I just started dating, and we headed to Las Vegas to celebrate. 

It was my first experience with gambling. And although my 4-inch black heels sank deeply into the luscious casino floors at the Venetian, the entire place reminded me of a facility set up for children. Is it me or do casinos remind you of Chuck-e-Cheese or Dave and Busters…with a lot more booze?

Anyhow, I was clearly in over my head. Especially after I withdrew $200 from an ATM and perched myself in front of a group of slot machines.

They were not just any slot machines. These had a $50,000 Mercedes Benz within arms reach begging to be won.  A lit a neon sign above the hood flashed, “Win this Mercedes or $40,000 cash!”

Within five minutes, I had sunk $100 into one slot machine below the car.

I was no idiot. It was time to move on.

Upward and onward I went to the blackjack tables. And just before my legs sat crossed upon a stool, a roar of cheering erupted behind me.

Someone had just hit the jackpot…on my slot machine.  

One of my worst birthday memories is of watching a crew haul that Mercedes down from the tops of the slot machines for someone else.

So when I entered the local casino with co-workers, I was a bit hesitant due to my unfortunate past.

As soon as I arrived, I wanted to pass out. The thick, congested nicotine air was enough to kill the gaudy silk plants in the décor. I had to break apart from my co-workers to seek refuge in a smoke-free area of the casino. It was a hallway, barely wide enough for one 80-pound cocktail waitress to walk up and down with a beverage tray.

But I had no choice. There really was no other place I could go, other than the inside of my car. And of course, in the confines of this claustrophobic space, there were two ratty nickel slot machines. One of which was already occupied by a moo-moo wearing elderly woman with rollers in her hair.

She didn’t smell so I sat beside her. I had another hour to kill and $5 in my pocket, so I lowered my chin into one hand and began dropping silver coins with the other.

Five bets later, my machine lit up.

I mean it lit up while setting off deafening sirens and flashing lights. All I remember seeing on the screen was “Tilt.” And the only thing going on in my mind was, “Score! Maybe I won back my $5 dollars.”

After the commotion died down, a tiny slip of paper slid out from the machine.

“What? That’s it? I get a lousy receipt?”

But as I looked down, the voucher read, “Winner of $540.00!”

I nearly passed out again. This was far better than the five bucks I was expecting.

As I held that meager, thin slip of paper, the world around me froze. The surrounding voices, ringing, and music all muted. I tightened my grip around the fragile evidence of my fortune, and wanted to shield it from the world.

Worst of all, I dreaded the long haul back to the cashier to claim my winnings. What if an employee walked up to inform me this was all a big a mistake? What if my sweaty palms erased the proof on the slip?

What if this was all just a dream? I knew I would not breathe again until I was safely cashed out.

Yesterday morning as I sat on my cold bathroom floor, I revisited those two days of gambling. My head was still spinning from Thursday’s questionable pregnancy test. For two minutes, I sat with my eyes closed, imagining the slot machine wheels spinning and spinning, as I hoped for a set of three. It reminded me of these past months of hoping for a pair of pink lines.

However, this month, part of me felt as if I am just destined for line solidarity on pregnancy tests. So I decided to mix it up.

And this month, took matters into my own hands…

I may not have 2 lines, but I have these two sticks…

And I feel like the luckiest gambler in the world.

Perhaps in 9 months, I’ll start to breath again.

Post title- Saying from William Bolitho