MotorCity Casino in Detroit
While Rachelle was in the hotel room doing a little bit of work, I decided to go down to the MotorCity Casino for some people watching. We were in Detroit, and the casino was actually an excellent place to see a diverse and concentrated array of the city, all congregating in one spot as if to make my job of being a tourist convenient.
As I’m not much of a gambler, I was just standing around watching some low stakes cards at a poker table. It was more like an Ex for people with addictions than it was a James Bond film–mindlessly repetitive, ugly in an everyday way and tinged with a bit of desperation. I just stood there hoping not to look too conspicuously like an Out-Of-Towner-Who-Is-A-Little-Scared-Of-Your-City.
After a moment or two a black man in a flashy sweater approached me.
Man: I got to say, that hat really looks good on you.
Me: Thanks, I love it.
The man then shook his head and put his hands on his hips.
Man: No, I don’t much compliment men, so this doesn’t come easy to me, but you really own that hat, man!
Me: Well, I like your sweater!
As I was saying this I sent a text to Rachelle:
Text to Rachelle: The Detroit Brothers really dig my style.
Man: You got some confidence to dress like that, boss!
Me: Well, my wife picked it out for me. She’s a designer– good at hockey, too.
Man: Your lady plays hockey?
Me: She has a wicked shot, great power forward.
Man: You Canadians and you’re hockey, man!
Text from Rachelle: Who are the Detroit Brothers?
Text to Rachelle: Black people!!!
As fate would have it the wife of the guy who liked my hat was sitting at the table right in front of us. She was pulling crumpled ones and fives out of her purse and handing them to the dealer. She turned and faced her husband with a look of surprise on her face.
Wife: Where you been at? I haven’t seen you in 10 hours, don’t you think its right that you come and check on me, maybe be bring me a drink or something?”
Man: (Looking incredulous and spinning around to include me in the conversation.) Where have I been? Where have you been at?! If you’re asking me where I’ve been for the last ten hours, then shouldn’t I be asking you the same question? (Directly to me) Can you believe it?
Me: Don’t get me involved.
Text from Rachelle: What are you doing? Stop it!
Wife: You shouldn’t just be leaving me alone all night. You never know what’s going happen. I’m special.
Man: I can be damn sure you ain’t gonna win nothing.
Text to Rachelle: I’m mediating a domestic dispute at a poker table.
His wife gave her husband the finger and then she sucked it.
Text from Rachelle: Did you just say to them the truth isn’t two-sided, it’s round?
Text from Me: Yes, but I added nigga.’
Me: Well, as they say, the truth isn’t two-sided, it’s round.
Wife: (Looking directly at me in that way) Have you been hitting the pipe? You got crack teeth, I can see that, so you best be minding your own business. I’m trying to play here, understand?
Man: You see what she’s like?
Me: (To woman) My teeth are like this because of chemotherapy, not crack, okay?
Text from Rachelle: Pickle, I’d really like it if you left the casino now and came to the hotel room.
Wife: I don’t care what they from, they be NASTY.
Man: (Facing his wife) You know what’s nasty, you’re nasty!
She looked at him, put her cards down on the table and stood up.
Wife: Oh no you didn’t.
The man waved her off and walked away, and I decided, as Rachelle had suggested, to just return to the hotel room, where for reasons I still don’t quite understand, I told her that I had won $85.