Wagers and Limes

All of Life is a Gamble

Olaf and Barnes sat in the last two seats of the little bar in the southwest corner of the rural casino that seemed to be almost forgotten. They were the only ones sitting there. They had driven two hours from Sultan’s Palace for a dry BOGO prime rib.

Olaf squeezed his lime into his weak drink, kept squeezing long after any juice dripped.

Wanted to order another lime, but wasn’t sure if people were even allowed to. The Sultan’s Palace staff would give him anything he asked for, for free. Mostly it was extra napkins.

The bar they sat at had no theme, like “Action” sports bar or “Steel”, the bar that had the fake city skyline.

It didn’t even have video poker games embedded in it.

The bartender was cute, Barnes thought. No ring, he always checked for rings, but stretch marks peeking above her tight black uniform pants suggested she had given birth within the last couple years.

Barmes pushed a ten toward Olaf, gave that little nod.

If the bet was blind, simply made on a show of currency and a nod, the friend who accepted got paid double if he won.

Olaf tapped the bill twice with the middle finger of his right hand to accept the bet

“I was a Swami in a past life,” Barnes said to the bartender.

The bartender gave Barnes a look. Was this a joke setup?

Olaf looked up at the bank of TVs. Wyoming wasn’t gonna cover the spread. The lime was floating in his weak drink. He sipped it.

“The Swami in me says…” Barnes said, alerting Olaf that the bet was live “... that you are the proud, beautiful mother of twins.”