YOUR WINNING WAYS

"Sir, would you like to split?"  I looked at her like she grew a second head and a third tit.  On the felt in front of me was the ten of spades and the queen of clubs.  I'm gonna break up a natural twenty?  Not this time.  Not on your life, lady.  This table had been bleeding me dry for hours, but for the last half hour I was the one sucking the blood.  A little win here, dealer busts a couple three times, then blackjack.  Blackjack.  Blackjack!  I stared her in the eye until she looked away, and then waved my hand at the table.  Telling her No thanks, I'll stick without dignifying her whatthefuckness with a response.  I had a pile of red and blue and black chips piled in front of me.  I wasn't about to count it.  I hadn't touched it once in this last magic half hour.  That pile of chips was my talisman.  I was afraid if I touched it then the universe would snap back to the real world where I was a loser who lost it all, instead of the hero who conquered Vegas.  I sat back with another complimentary scotch and sipped it, staring hard at the dealer as she went around the rest of the table.  Flip yourself a loser, lady.  Any goddamn combination, I don't care.  Three, ten, king.  Nine, six, seven.  Ten, two, jack.  Make it happen.  And then when she flipped her cards, all I could do was smile.