A "Normal" Trip to AC

This past Sunday I took a trip to AC with my family (that's Atlantic City, New Jersey, the "Vegas of the East", for all you international blog readers out there...a special hello, or should I say "Gruezi!", to the Swiss readers that make up 4% of my daily readers). It was a fun trip: blackjack, poker, dinner at Carmine's...all around good time. I ended up leaving winning $105, which is both good and bad: good, because the rest of my family left losing between $100-$200 EACH, and bad because in the first two hours I had easily won $180, and then proceeded to lose all $180 over the next 3 hours (it wasn't until the last 30 minutes of the night that I quickly made back that $105).

Still, even though I had a good time, I couldn't help but feel like something just wasn't right, like something was missing. And I think I've figured out exactly what it was: the adventures that take place during AC trips with the great Mr. Cooper! The following comparisons will help illuminate exactly what I'm talking about...

I. Beginning the Trip:

A Normal Trip to Atlantic City involves starting the day around 9:30 AM, having some breakfast, taking a shower, and starting the 1 hour 30 minute drive around 10:30 AM, to make sure you arrive at AC by noon.

vs.

A Trip to Atlantic City with CJ & Mr. Cooper involves starting the day, or should I say afternoon, around 2:00 PM. No time to shower, only time to jump in the car and wait for Mr. Cooper's call to establish that (a) I'm 3 hours behind schedule, and (b) Mr. Cooper just woke up and will shower while I drive to his house. No time to eat, especially because there's always a Wawa sandwich, Gatorade, and bag of pretzels waiting for you on the drive down. Arrival time in AC: 5:30 PM.

II. Gambling:

A Normal Trip to AC involves a relaxing day of various types of gambling: an hour of blackjack, a $20 bill on the slot machines, watching the excitement of the craps tables, etc. You really want to win money, but you're not expecting too much.
vs.

A Trip to AC with CJ & Mr. Cooper involves only one thing: compulsive gambling. Step 1: find a $10 blackjack table; Step 2: play blackjack; Step 3: do nothing else (the only exception to 'Step 3' is to take numerous bathroom breaks during the two minutes it takes for the decks to be shuffled).

III. Meals:

A Normal Trip involves a nice dinner at a local restaurant after a few hours of gambling.
vs.

A Trip with CJ & Mr. Cooper involves a great midnight dinner at the Bally's restaurant Animations...after we've gambled for 7 hours and have won a few hundred dollars each. Of course, by this point we have become blackjack VIP's and get a meal comp of about $40 total, resulting in the free consumption of diet cokes, iced teas, chicken wings, a Burger platter, a chicken caesar salad, a slice of New York cheesecake, and an ice cream brownie sundae. Or as I like to call it, a situational eating disorder.

IV. Leaving Atlantic City:

A Normal Trip involves leaving the casino after a couple hours of post-dinner gambling, gracefully ending the trip. Departure time: 7:00 PM.
vs.

A Trip with CJ & Mr. Cooper involves battling internal demons and suffering intense mental and physical anguish. How do you walk out of a casino that you just made $300 in playing a card game? The simple answer: you don't. Four blackjack tables and 5 hours later, it's time to go. Departure time: 5:00 AM.

V. The Car Ride Home:

A Normal Trip involves a relaxing evening drive, reminiscing about the fun times of the day's events. With no major traffic, it's back home by 9:00 PM.
vs.

A Trip with CJ & Mr. Cooper involves all available sources of caffeine, including various candies, bags of chocolate, and multiple cans of soda. Once Mr. Cooper is dropped off at home, it's time to drive home alone: windows all the way down, radio all the way up, and a very tight grip on the steering wheel. Unfortunately, I'm guaranteed to hit the morning commuters, which is both annoying and extremely depressing. From the moment I see my first non-existent image on the road ahead, I know I have less than an hour left before I slip into a coma.