Monday, February 27, 2006
I have finally figured out the job I was meant to have: the cooler. That's the schmoe who exudes such bad luck that casinos hire him (in my case, her) to walk by and rub a little of the bad stuff on somebody who's winning a little too often. I went to the horse races on Saturday and the first horse I picked came in dead last. The next horse I picked to place, came in third (that's a show). You get the idea. I couldn't even pick the winner of Dancing With the Stars (I picked Rinna, a former classmate of mine.) Add to that the bad luck I had on a recent trip to France and the ongoing flood/asbestos disaster in my living room and you've got the makings of a bad luck professional. I've been considering taking up poker. After this post, I expect to get invited to a lot of games. Look for me at Hard Rock Casino. I'll be the gal touching elbows with that guy who suddenly can't get the dice to roll in his favor. I wonder what coolers get paid?