Dem Bones

Oh, crap.

It's times like this, I wish I were a "real" gambler. It was our last night of gambling at that tourist Mecca known as Tunica, located in Robinsonville Mississippi.
Ms V and I had dinner reservations and were meeting at the "steak house" at 8:00 that night. She was off playing the “penny” slot machines and I was at the dice table, down about a hundred and fifty. I was planning to quit about 7:45. My turn to “roll” came at about 7:35, plenty of time for me to have a final chance and then get to the restaurant. I was wrong. I rolled and rolled some more. I started looking over my shoulder at about 8:10 to see if Ms V was looking for me. She came soon thereafter and I said “I CAN’T stop now.” She sat at a nearby table and chanted (under her breath) "7 out, 7 out" until she gave up that mantra at about 8:30 and said she was going to eat. "Go, says I." On I rolled. No one there had seen the likes of this, dealers included. At approximately 9:25 the dreaded call was finally made "7 out." One hour and forty-five minutes. Unbelievable. A half dozen or so players threw me $25 chips as a tip for the thousands of dollars they made on that roll. As for me, I refused to press my bets more than once for superstitious reasons. I knew if I bet more, the streak would end. I was quite satisfied with the $900 or so I made myself. I don't expect to ever see the likes of that roll, by anyone, anywhere, in my lifetime.
Call me "Lucky"