The following email was received from one of my readers recently. When I read it, I admit it made me cringe.
'Dear Geno,' the letter reads. 'You have written about winning a lot of money as a poker player and I can respect that. But did you ever get to the point when you were really down and out and basically beaten? Or don't you write about those things? Peter M., Riversde, CA.'
Peter, Peter, Peter! Not only do I not write about those things. I don't even want to think about them.
But you asked an honest question and I believe in total honesty with my readers, so here goes.
I was going through a rough part of my life. My wife and I had separated and I was between reporting jobs. I decided to see what I could find in Laughlin, Nevada. I had some friends in the area and thought they could help me find work.
Well, Laughlin didn't exactly work out. The newspapers weren't hiring and I was on a losing streak. I tried poker and playing the horses and nothing seemed to pan out. My cash flow kept diminishing until I was down to my last hundred dollars.
In desperation, I approached the Riverside Casino and applied for a job. Don Laughlin was sympathetic to my situation but said he couldn't do anything until the first of the week. It was Thursday. I decided to hang onto what few dollars I had left rather than pay for a room. The question was, where would I spend the night?
I wandered through the casino and found myself in the pool area. There were no security guards present and the employees had stacked the lounge chairs up in corner of the pool. I walked over to the lounges, glanced around to make sure I wasn't being observed, and crept in between two lounge chairs where I snuggled down and quickly fell asleep.
The sunlight awoke me next morning. I got up just as an employee came out to put the lounge chairs out for the hotel guests. Since I was wearing my bathing suit beneath my clothes, it was easy for me to strip down and take a swim. That served as my shower.
I had breakfast in the casino that cost me a grand total of $2.49.
For the next two days, I followed the same routine. I slept between the same two lounge chairs -- thank goodness I was in the warm dry air of Arizona -- and basically existed until Monday morning rolled around.
Laughlin made good on his word and hired me as a change attendant. The job didn't pay much but it carried me through until a check arrived for a magazine article I had sold. I converted the check into a win at the poker tables and I was back in business.
A beaten gambler isn't much without a bankroll. I don't recommend such a situation for anyone. Thanks for the question and the memories. It hasn't repeated itself and I hope it never does in the future.