Hard Rock Café and Casino, Watch out for the Grannies!

The story a few weeks ago about a weekly gathering of elderly women in Cyprus brought back memories from my childhood.  This group of genarians  got together once a week.  Apparently on this day they preferred poker to bridge.  It also just happened the police chose this day to raid the party, arresting about 40 women. The women, were all 70 and older, including a 98 year old.  The cash involved was small, probably a little higher than penny poker (a penny doesn’t go as far as it used to).  When the attorney general heard about the arrests, he quickly dropped all charges.  Maybe one of the ladies was his grandmother. 

From my earliest days I remember the weekly poker game that took place in my home-town.  Like in Guys and Dolls, the game moved from one house to another.  Not because the players were afraid of being found out, but to give everyone a chance to provide the beer and peanuts.  The group that gathered was a distinguished lot, a well known attorney, professors, doctors and of course the clerk of the court.  It was amazing, these professional men started acting like rowdy teenagers the moment they crossed the threshold.  They whooped and hollered, told what they thought were bawdy jokes and generally had a good time.  As the group aged, the games ended earlier, the pots grew bigger and the drinking less.  Age forced some to hitch a ride with a fellow poker player, making parking easier.  Life cycles changed the roster every so often and on weeks when they couldn’t find enough players, the game was cancelled.  I don’t know if there is still a game going on, all I know is the group my dad played with is long gone.  May the gents from the old poker game always be able to ante up and put together a winning hand.  As I finish this entry, I wonder, if a strip poker game is raided, would the players be arrested?  After all, there would be no money in the pot to use as evidence.  On the other hand, the loser might be arrested for indecent exposure since they wouldn’t be wearing any if much clothing. 

Until next time, when playing any form of strip game, make sure you’re the winner either by actually winning the game or losing to a really cute opponent.

‘

The Chamilian Car

I read a story the other day about a Grandma who caught four men stealing her car from a parking lot. She threw down her bags, pulled out her .38 and yelled, "Get away from the car or I'll shoot." The four immediately took off at lightening speed. The woman proceeded to put her bags in the back seat and go home. She tried and tried to start the car but the key wouldn't fit the ignition. That's when she noticed personal items in the car that weren't hers. Face red, she realized she was in the wrong car. Her car, same make, model and color was one row over. She drove to the police station to report what she had done. The officer on duty smiled and pointed to a group of men who were reporting a car jacking by a little old lady. No charges were filed.

I drive a Desert Sand Camry. If the Camry is one of the most popular cars, Desert Sand must be the most popular color. Every time I go out I pass several Camrys that look just like mine. I have even parked next to an identical Camry at Wal-Mart. Now, I didn't go as far as pulling a weapon and ordering a group of would-be thieves to move away from the car but I have to admit I have mistakenly gotten into the wrong Camry at Wal-Mart.
I opened the front door, threw my bags in the passenger seat. As I leaned over I noticed a a sweater tossed over the the back of the passenger seat. It didn't look familiar but I checked it off to being my daughter's. As I tried to put the key in the ignition I saw a banana peel slung over the dash. I may not have recognized my daughter's sweater but I knew I hadn't left a blackening banana peel on my dash. That's when I started noticing other small details that screamed, get out of the car, it's not yours! I couldn't scramble out of that car fast enough. I worried what I would say if the real owner came back as I was taking my bags out. No one came and I successfully found and drove off in my Desert Sand Camry. If the other owner had come back, I would have complimented them on their choice of car and pray they had a good sense of humor. Until next time remember, bright, neon colored autos never get lost in a crowded parking lot.