Wendover!

To start in the middle of a story, I was in the parking lot of a casino as my gambling friend Matt tried to take a picture of me. I dodged the situation because I was too embarrassed to post it all over facebook, which typically happens with these kinds of trips. A couple days later Matt told me I needed to come out of the gambling closet. So since there is no photo evidence of me, this is my cyber-coming out. I went to Wendover, as trashy as it sounds, played some Blackjack, as sinful as it sounds, and had a damn good time, as unlike me as that sounds.

So I turned 21 in May, but I never got to do anything to celebrate my 21-ness. About a month ago, my two friends Matt and Matt were talking about Wendover, and I expressed desire to go, which apparently is a surprising thing to find in the Provo bubble.

We let the idea simmer, and then one Friday night I found myself driving to Wendover. I don't even know how it really happened.

Net Ionic Equation of the trip (gah, too much chemistry on the brain): I had a lot of fun, but was probably a little too intense about my excitement being a first-timer that was wired on caffeine, sleep-deprived, loopy, and all. Poor Matt to have to deal with that.

The Good: I did something new, and I got to know someone a little better in the process.
The Bad: Okay, maybe I lost some money, but it was nothing that I wasn't planning on losing anyway.
The Ugly: The dealer was a jerk and half. It was my first time! Give me a break for touching the cards with both hands. And don't call me "honey." It's creepy and condescending. I have a problem with arbitrary rules for which I don't understand the basis.

I also learned that people at casinos take themselves way too seriously. Lighten up people!

Because of my bad blackjack experience with the dealer, I came home obsessed with the game. I kind of seriously want to learn how to count cards and basically be a blackjack ninja. I've already started... It's actually quite intense.