by Elizabeth Collins
“My wife is not allowed in Atlantic City,” I hear my husband tell his friend over the phone. D. has been working near AC, building a house. Now that it’s done, he’s frequently encouraged to visit. We always say no thanks, but not because AC is a dump (which some might agree with). There are other reasons.
“It’s not like I forbid her to go. She’s on the casinos’ Banned list. They know who she is, they look out for her.” Big pause, while I assume his friend wants to know why. None of the likeliest reasons are particularly classy, now are they? I cringe, but D. loves to tell this story.
“I mean, she’s not allowed in the city. It’s crazy, man. My wife is a card counter. Brain like a computer…”
“They shook her down, raided her hotel room, grabbed back the money, messed her up, even threatened to execute her if she ever came back.”