OCtober Day 24: Solitaire

Having paid my dues at a few jobs, I’d accrued a large sum of money and felt it was time to start spending.

As the saying goes; Vegas baby!

Or, Vegas adjacent anyhow. Glamour Nights Casino, one of the city's largest and oldest operations. Grandiose and glowing so bright it lights up the skyline all the way in Nirvana. Upon exiting the taxi, I took in the awe of the building properly..

It had a fantastic architectural design. All the walls were lined in flashing neon images, including the sign itself. Fountains outside the front and holographic statues danced in time with one another. Large screens would display advertisements regarding events or services. Many of them feature the big name actress, Martingale. I checked my appearance in the taxi mirror, then approached the bouncers at the door. They checked me over, then let me on through. I went in, prepared to lose everything but have a great time in the process.

Aside from the modern technology, they’d done up the place to look old school Vegas, somewhere between elegant and gaudy. Electro swing blared over the speakers, hardly drowning out the clinks of coins or the calls of numbers. 

For a good while I simply wandered the floors, exploring my options. They had everything one would expect from a casino of this size. Slot machines, roulette wheels, poker tables, as well as amenities such as a bar, restaurant, stage and hotel. After some distracted meandering, I slowly found the music growing quieter. It didn’t disappear altogether, though the lessening of it was enough that a sudden clack snapped me back to reality. The room I’d wandered into had quite a different vibe to the rest of the building. Dim lighting, a slow jazz song playing on a jukebox, and several snooker tables. Compared to the glitz and glamour, it felt more like stumbling into a back alley bar.

Another clack.

My eyes were immediately drawn to the source, just about catching the perfect pocket of an 8 ball. Upon the table itself sat someone. One arm slung over a raised knee, they smirked, like a predator would at a fresh kill. The creature in question dressed a bit like a 1920’s American gangster. A black waistcoat and trousers combo, and matching Italian loafers. Underneath they were a white button shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing caucasian skin. Quite curiously, their gloves, bow tie and the ribbon on the bowler hat were all splashed with bright yellow. They wore their chestnut hair in a flapper style bob, though one side was longer and curled into a flick. Everything about it combines a perfect blend of masculine and feminine. A pair of blue eyes shift at the sound of myself moving. Placing the pool cue down, they jump off the table to approach me. I notice they aren’t especially tall, and yet no less intimidating in the way those eyes scan me up and down. 

“Well, you’re a tall one, Legolas. Ain’t seen you around here much. I’ve just been itching for someone to play, so up for a game?” this strange person suggests slyly. The way they talk feels like they jumped out of an old fashioned hollywood film.

“My name’s actually-”

“Legolas, cuz you got those pointy ears an’ all. I’m Solitaire by the way. Don’t call me Sol, only my big brothers get to do that. Look, I ain’t one for flowery conversations. I like to get to know people over something fun, something simple...like a round of pool” Solitaire explains. 

“I wouldn’t recommend it. That one’s tricky” a gruff old man warns, not looking up from his own game.

The androgynous gambler tuts, slinging an arm around my shoulders.

“Ignore them, ol’ bluenose just don’t like to admit they lost to new blood. Come on, what do you say?”

I hardly get a choice in my answer, having been dragged back to their table.

“Uh, sure, why not?”

Solitaire let out a hearty chuckle. It rattles their hat out of place.

“That’s what I like to hear” 

Straightening the bowler hat, they swiftly retrieve another cue and some chalk from the rack, chucking them at me. I catch both without issue, proceeding to chalk up as Solitaire lays out the solids and stripes in a neat triangle.

“You played before?” they ask.

“Only the British way”

They wave it off.

“No skin off my nose Legolas. I’m well versed in a few styles of play. Tell you what, I’ll be even nice and give you the break shot” 

Solitaire’s eyes follow closely as I lean over, line up my shot and fire it off. The balls scatter rapidly. With all luck I manage to pocket one on the first try, though I’m not so lucky on the next one. My opponent’s claps lightly, though I can’t tell out of politeness or genuine compliment. That poker face is something fierce. I step back to make room for Solitaire. Those blue eyes scan the layout for a moment, then curiously they step round to a position I would not have guessed. Though, it pays off as in one clever shot the cue ball bounds around the table, pocketing two more before coming to a stop.

It quickly becomes apparent that I’m out of my league. One by one the balls sink until we’re down to the final one, sat alone, and exposed. Before the final shot can be taken, the old man from before ends up interrupting the game.

“Alright lay off the kid” He growls at Solitaire, who just glares in return.

He turns to me

“You know their diamond ability is probability, right? You got next to no chance when they know every fucking move”

“It’s alright sir, I’m just here to have fun, and I am”

He scoffs.

“Have fun? With this cheating layabout?”

Solitaire apparently does not like that, as they swiftly take up arms with the pool cue. Twirling it like one might a bo staff, its jabbed into the man’s stomach, the used to sweep him off his feet. 

“I do not, and never have, cheated. Get that fucking straight”

He groans, crawling away. Taking a breath, my former opponent places the cue down.

“He was probably right though, was a bit rude of me to play you like that. Tell you what, for being a good sport, how ‘bout I treat you to a drink?”

They extend a hand to shake.

“No hard feelings?”

I take it.

“Water under the bridge my friend” 

Solitaire grins, grabbing my by the shoulders once more as I’m led on back to a night of booze, buffets and blackjack. It occurs to me, just for one brief moment, that the apparent gambling monarch never did actually win, since the 8 ball still remains in the middle of the table. I don’t bother mentioning it though, having the courtesy to leave their reputation intact.