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Small casino at the foot of the hotel. For once, I walked away a winner from a casino.
Quite unexpectedly, I found myself all alone in these golden halls of the city. However, the feeling of being out of place soon proved to be completely misplaced. Since I had entered this temple of freedom completely without cash and only armed with the almost resigned but iron hope of entry, my first port of call was the ATM. This oasis of gamblers also attracted another searching soul: Here I found my knight in golden armor, who was to cause a lasting shock to my world view.In broken English, along with some wild expletives, I understood the stated goal of betting all of my savings on 35 in roulette. With the fierce determination and pure madness in his eyes, I was quickly convinced to take my new friend's wing and joined in the insults against the enemies I had never known before. I overlooked the mishap that all of his bank cards (four or five) were rejected. Before I knew it, I was introduced to the owner of the casino and was allowed to shake hands with some well-dressed gentlemen. The romance of shaking hands in the midst of magnificent furnishings was in no way diminished by the fact that my mentor continued to dominate every conversation with his uninhibited ranting. But as abruptly as the round of introductions began, it ended just as quickly. Shortly after arriving at the poker table, my hero's rage reached unprecedented levels. Just when an escalation could almost be smelled, the casino owner intervened with the cavalry. Only after I had to watch as the lone avenger was escorted to the exit by security and I was left at the poker table, even lonelier than him, did I realize, given the stakes, how extremely optimistic my trip to the ATM had been.As I was writing these lines, and reflecting on my own feelings, I was particularly struck by a misjudgment on my part: my initial intimidation by pomp and the publicly displayed high-performer culture stemmed from the assumption that I would experience disadvantage because of these class differences. But who was ultimately the victim of his own magnanimity? It was the Good Samaritan who integrated me into his family in return for a sympathetic ear at the ATM. While I was able to enjoy maximum involvement at the poker table, apart from the outrageous beer prices, the elite punished the man from their own ranks with exile. This unique change of perspective allowed me to catch a glimpse of the cold-bloodedness with which the financial elite tear each other apart.Stay away.
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