Monday, March 22, 2004

Call it beginner’s luck.

It started out as the usual Saturday night dinner for me and two of my officemates. I knew I was a bad company at that time because my only contribution to the conversation was “yes, definitely,” “no, I don’t think so” and “the food is yummy.”

But to my defense, I was feeling a bit under the weather the past couple of days. I had a terrible cold that I can’t even talk without sounding like a clothespin is pinching my nose. You can ask her, she was the one who informed me that I’m a ngongo.

(Segue lang, Sentro 1771 is one of the best resto I’ve ever been into. I think it will soon become my favorite. Waiters were all smiles. Food came within five minutes from order time. And they were pretty much concerned that we didn’t order any rice. They were so concerned that they had to repeat the same question for, oh around three times. Price was reasonable. And I personally recommend Tilapia in coconut milk. I was able to taste its creaminess despite my deadened taste bud. And I can’t wait to get off my new diet to try out their Crème Brulee)

Yet despite my handicap, I was missing Timezone and I wanted to play air hockey, but it was already 1 a.m. Joyce suggested we go to a casino instead, and I said yes, and just like that we left the resto for a gambling den.

Joyce had to show me the ropes, as I really had no clue as to what I should do. We bought some tokens, and she taught me how to use a traditional one-liner slot machine.

When a quarter of my total coins were lost in a span of five minutes, I thought I should’ve insisted on Timezone. At least there, my P500 would allow me to kill some friggin’ dinosaurs for at least three hours. And it would definitely be more entertaining than watching how my funds dwindle into nothing.

So I decided to transfer on a new machine. Since even my veteran companion had no idea how to use the new object of my greenhorn curiosity, I swallowed all my dignity and called for a service guy and asked him to teach me.

And that’s what when it started to be fun, because I was actually winning. Only I was too scared to take big risks, so half the time I was there, I was carrying a tray full of extremely heavy tokens to the counter in exchange of bills so I can play again. I was even able to empty the whole hopper!

At the end of our stay, I only regained what I lost earlier and then some.

I learned a few things about my self from the activity. I now know that I like to play it safe where parting with my hard-earned money for some easy cash is concerned--which makes me boring.

And I’m lucky, but not in love.

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Monday, March 22, 2004

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