My husband is a gambler. I am not. He is good at it. I am not. He would do a lot more of it but I won't let him. What can I say? I'm tight with my money and he's a dreamer. Usually though, Doc knows he's going to win and sometimes his manifestation comes true.
After having pizza with some friends last night, we stopped by Tulsa's Cherokee Casino. My sweet husband took me to the bar where the band plays because he knew that music is more my thing. And FYI, the smoke in that place was BAD. I felt like I was stuck in an elevator with 12 European chain smoking fanatics. So we listened to the band (and laughed at the guitar player who had a prosthetic penis in his pants...I just know it), and played a little in-bar poker. He put in $20. I was thinking about how much I'd like to have $20. I'd get one of those cheap pedis from the Vietnamese chop shop. And he? He nearly doubled his money and paid for our beer. I like free beer. And I love that he didn't make me witness the loss of that $20. He's a good man.