snow in NYC and drinking games in DomRep
I left Angel and Wendy’s apartment right when the snow started to fall. It’s supposed to snow about six inches by midnight. It’s now 6:30pm and it looks like we’ve had about four inches already. I’ve been out on the fire escape and eaten most of the snow off the railing, the snow that wasn’t actually touching the railing. I gave myself a brain freeze. I asked Jiles if he knew a recipe for snow ice cream. He said he could call his mom and get it. Earlier Wendy and I had been arguing on what you put in it. I remember we used to put in a couple eggs but she thought it was just snow, sugar, and vanilla. The only people I’ve ever met that have had ever had snow ice cream have all been from Texas. I was shocked when Ivy told me that she had never even heard of it in Massachusetts. What a waste. The snow is still coming down so hard that I can’t see the city. I can’t even see the East River and it’s just 200 yards away. I make a snowball and thrown it down four floors to the street. I hit my target, which wasn’t a very difficult target at all, a slow moving Coors Lite delivery truck. I’m pretty sure it went unnoticed by the driver. I’m supposed to work tomorrow, we’ll see if the flights are still going out. I hope they are, I need the money. My last trip was with Candy again. We went to San Juan the first night and Santiago the next. Candy’s friend Vera was also flying with us. In San Juan the three of us got together to play cards and drink. After about six games of asshole we were all pretty drunk. I only brought a small bottle of alcohol to drink but they kept making me drink after mine was gone. I couldn’t say anything about it; I was always the asshole. Next night we get to the Dominican Republic an hour late so it’s almost 3:30am by the time we get into our rooms. This time we brought plenty of alcohol and snacks to the party. Even the pilots showed up. Alex the Pursor came out for once too. We haven’t really liked him that much because he told Candy she was stupid on our first trip of the month. He’s been kissing her ass all month but still isn’t in our good graces. Alex and the pilots don’t know how to play to even after we explain the game and play a practice hand. They play poorly and are drinking regularly. I’m President from the first game and hold my position the entire two hours we play. I’m a fair Prez though and don’t really abuse my power. Candy is usually the Vice President so she makes Alex drink until he can’t drink anymore. He just starts laughing uncontrollably every time she says, “Drink”. The pilots are learning the game quickly so we stop feeling sorry for them for losing. They take the commands very well. Pilots aren’t usually in positions where they have to take orders, especially not from people half their age, especially not the Captain who used to be a Marine. He rolls his eyes a couple times and only once did I make him drink for the eye rolling. The casino closed at 5am but we had just got into the groove of the game at 5am so we stay in Vera’s room and keep playing cards. My super-charged Mudslides are gone as are the beers. I still have a thing of sangria going around but soon that will be out. Candy has a liter of rum, there’s half of that left. At around 6am everyone is too drunk to continue with Asshole. Vera is passed out in her bed but gets up briefly to puke in the toilet. The pilots are slurry and barely have their eyes open. Somehow Alex is still as coherent as he was when he started the game, which isn’t very, but he’s not getting worse. We play a few hands of poker for cookies but end up eating all of our betting chips. When Alex stands up to go to the bathroom we see how drunk he really is. I look at Candy and she looks at me. I think we’ve settled the score for the stupid remark he made two weeks ago. At 6:30am we decide its time for breakfast but only Candy and I make it down. The first Officer tried to follow us but he was way too drunk. He bounced off the walls all the way down the hall and ended up just going back to his room. It’s a scary thing to see people puke, pass out, and stumble around oblivious while you feel pretty much sober. Even Candy was visibly drunk and I know I had just as much to drink as everyone else. Even though I was dispensing the drinks in the game, I drank along with whoever I made drink and I wasn’t drinking pussy drinks like Bailey’s on the rocks like Alex was. Candy and I are the only ones in the breakfast room except for the four employees. There was a guy at the omelet station, a couple guys by the coffee and tea, and then another guy that seats you. We were complete embarrassments. I got an obscene heap of bacon while Candy spills the coffee all over the floor. While we’re eating, I drop Fruit Loops everywhere and Candy drools out watermelon seeds and spits them down onto her plate. When we left the waiter gave me the worst go-to-hell look I’ve ever seen. As we walked out he continued the glare until we were at the elevator. Oh well, I thought we could have been much worse. We didn’t yell or carry on, we didn’t even say a word while we ate. We get up around noon and head out to the pool. After a couple hours of sun, swimming, and watching various sizes and colors of lizards, we shower up and meet in the casino. The casino is closed while they count the chips so we grab lunch before going back in. It’s Vera, Candy, and I but we meet up with Alex in the café. The four of us go to roulette and this time it isn’t Candy who has the hot hand, it’s me. I get up a hundred dollars or so but the winnings dwindle as I keep playing. Out of the twelve or so spins I see, four of them were either 0 or 00. That’s just weird. I think the fix was in. One of the times I had money on the zeroes, but only once. I always played my birthday, my age, Candy’s age, and 13 every time. The one time I forgot to do 4 and 11 for my birthday is when 4 came up. It figures. Alex wanted to try out blackjack so we head over to the cheap table. There are only two other guys at the table, a local boy and an older man with a really bad toupee. He looks and sounds like an American but god is that toupee terrible. He seems nice enough though. Alex and I sit down to play cards and the girls stand behind us. The older man, who turns out to be from Jersey, starts asking Alex questions about who we are and what we’re doing here. When it comes out that we work for American Airlines, he starts going off. He used to be a Platinum member but then switched over to Continental because they are more liberal with their upgrades. This starts a tirade about the higher ups at American and what the hell are they thinking. Of course we could not care less and are sick of hearing about it. We listen to everything he has to say but don’t respond at all. Most people would get the hint, but not this guy. He’s as clueless as his toupee is cheap. The whole time he’s talking, I’m losing at cards and it sucks because I’m doing everything right. I stay when I’m supposed to stay and double down with eleven. Nothing is going right so I need to try something else. On the next hand I have 17 and the dealer has an 8 as the up card. Now I know I should stay with 17 but I also know the odds are that the dealer will have 18. More than the odds, I just have a feeling that I should hit. I can totally picture a 4 being the next card, a black 4 I think. As soon as I say, “hit”, the two guys jump up and yell “No”! I look at both of them and tell them one at a time, “Shut the fuck up and shut the fuck up!” Toupee says, “you have 17”! I say I know but the dealer has an 8 and I feel like he’s going to have a ten. He says I’m screwing up the game. I tell him to not worry about what I do. If he wants to play with people who always do the right thing, then maybe he should not be playing at the cheapest table in the building. Everyone I’m with is laughing their ass off and even the dealer is pretty happy about what’s happening to the toupee guy. The dealer looks at me and asks if I still want the card. I say yes and toupee says I’m stupid. At this point I have never prayed harder for anything in my life. I could lose the next 23 hands and I wouldn’t mind as long as I got my ace, two, three, or four right here. The card comes and we’re all staring at it as it’s flipped over. Unfortunately it was a 9 and I busted. On the plus side, the dealer did have an 18 and I would have lost either way. But according to Toupee I stole his card and his card should be the Dominican’s. He didn’t say anything when he saw that the 9 I got would have busted him as well. He just shook his head and muttered under his breath. Alex asks him why he’s so upset. Toupee says that he’s not upset, that he doesn’t care if I want to waste my money. I tell him I have no problem with what just happened, that I’m still smiling while he’s the one with the vein sticking out of his forehead. I didn’t bring up the toupee. That would have been too easy. He didn’t respond, just went back to shaking his head and muttering. The vibe of the table was harsh so I left after a couple more hands. All in all I broke even but we all got a kick of saying, “Shut the fuck up and shut the fuck up” to each other the rest of the night.