The bartender was ignoring everything but the bro at the end of the pine and the slot machine wined as it ingested the only dollar I had in my wallet.
I am not really a gambler. Not with money, anyways. I have always found it strange to take something that I have, that's mine, in my possession, and give it away to pull a handle or push a button or take a busting hit.
But there was something about this machine, this dollar...
Fishing is my favorite gamble. Incalculable time, effort, money, mental anguish, preparatory inadequacies of the mind and muscle born of a desire for just a sample.
Smoking dreams down to the filter with a blistered finger and a hat full of rain.
...so wheels spun and the machine spit out a ticket that was within forty cents of the calculated dollar amount of gas and food for the trip.
Affirmation printed in black and blue ink, handed to the congratulating smile behind the counter, and counted out in faded twenty-dollar bills.
The new york steak wasn't bad either.