You may have wondered why I didn't write anything last week. You may not have, and that's okay too. The reason for my absence was due to what happened to me whilst walking home from the casino last Tuesday night.
One of the many drawbacks of working at a casino, along with handling drunk people and the fact that they're playing poker and you're not, is that your shift often ends early in the morning. Usually between that gap between after the last bus for the night and before the earliest bus the next morning.
When this happens I have a choice: take a taxi that'll cost roughly the same as the last two hours of my shift, or walk.
Maybe my tendency for rigorous bankroll management cost me this time though.
My walk takes me through some quiet parts of town, and some not so quiet. It was in one of these less quiet parts of town that two kids approached me from behind asked me for the time, then pushed me to the ground.
They ran through my pockets, one shouting ‘grab his phone, grab his phone' to the other. I had no phone in my pockets, or a wallet. All I had in my pockets was a copy of The Ice at the Bottom of the World by Mark Richard, a bus pass that had ran out that day and a employee swipe card for the casino. None of which they wanted.
Ironically enough, I had removed my valuables to combat the gambling addicted workmates of my workplace. They were also known to run their hands through pockets that didn't belong to them. The thieves I knew saved me from the thieves I didn't.
They didn't save me from a couple of punches and kicks though, presumably because of my lack of items worth stealing. I got one solid punch in, though. One solid punch that earned me a couple back. They got bored eventually though and left, not before calling me a nerd.
Presumably because I read books and don't think about my potential muggers needs. I guess they can keep calling me a nerd. I'm fine with that.
It was a bad experience, but one that I don't want to let bring me down. I was in work the next day, bruises and cuts an all. People worried about me, and my boss changed my rota to stop my long walks home from happening again.
It was an experience that has made me think, though. About why you'd do that to someone, about how many people it's happened to before. And about luck. I've walked that street hundreds of times, and never even seen anyone on it. Maybe my luck ran out.
Maybe I shouldn't rely on luck at all.
Over the next couple of weeks I'm going to be writing about the concept of removing luck out of the game of poker. I figured if a terrible thing happened to me, I might as well make it useful.
And I promise, for all those who do care and for all those who don't, I'll try not to miss a blog post again.
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