My friends and I circled the floor at Harrah’s, in New Orleans, deliberately choosing a high stakes table that felt like a winner. Within minutes the dealer knew exactly how each of us played the game. He anticipated our every move barely giving us time to gesture “hit” or “pass”. The game moved so quickly we had only a second to cheer about a big win on a double-down or grunt when a sure-to-win hand was taken down by a dealer blackjack.
The odds were in our favor. Three out of four of us walked away winners. That game alone paid for a lovely dinner at Commander’s Palace that included a bottle of wine my significant other, Josh, and I would never have dreamed of spending so much money on before hitting it big at Harrahs. The winnings also treated us to a never-to-be-forgotten brunch at Brennan’s (eggs housard how I have longed for you in the 11 years since I first tasted you).