We're on the 14th floor of our hotel. Well, it's really the 13th floor, but apparently people can't use that number around here. On our way out here, I sat next to a teacher in his mid 30's on the plane. He was traveling by himself. He said he was coming out to relax. I assumed he meant prostitutes, but later learned that they were not really as legal as I had thought in Las Vegas proper.
His name was Chris. Chris was telling me that he taught early high school. He was trying to get kids in the 10th grade up to an 8th grade level. He taught math. We spoke of statistics for a bit. We were both the better part of the way through our doubles, when he started to enlighten me of the statistics of Vegas.
"The problem is," he said, "is people don't bet big when they win."
I nod in curious anticipation.
"If you bet big before you win, and small before you loose, you end up on top. Works every time."
As he was trying to enlighten possibly hundreds of high schoolers to the finer points of statistics, I thought this was profoundly fucked up. We spoke for a bit, but didn't get too far on the topic.
Hotels have no 13th floor. This doesn't seem too strange to me anymore. The people who come out here operate on luck, and a sheer bit of self confidence. I stood outside the entrance to our hotel for quite some time smoking. Car after car of 20-30 year old males would spill out onto the sidewalk.
"Look at all the action in there. We need to get in there. I'm going to really make it big tonight. I can feel it."
It's becoming quickly apparent that anyone within twenty miles from where I stand with a mixed drink is a modern day Naustradaumus.
