Did we go and walk along the beach on a quiet and lovely Tuesday evening in June? No. Did we check out the fancy-schmancy new Borgata Casino? Of course not. Where else would 5 desis go on a random night in the middle of New Jersey?
Desis feel an odd sense of entitlement when it comes to the Trump Taj Mahal. We ignore the fact that it's an overtly exoticized version of the "East" - complete with Arabian Night's Theme. Come all ye social-security dependent, jumpsuit wearing, chain smoking 80-year olds to the mystical land of slot machines and an overpriced but mediocre buffet. A buffet which, may I add, was called:
Perhaps the "Mughals' Meal" would have been a tad more appropriate? Or am I just stooping to their level?
Whatever the case was, we were at the Trump Taj Mahal. And we weren't alone. The casino was rather deserted (perhaps a harbinger of the upcoming NJ bankruptcy ... or just an indicator that the place sucks) -- but there were a handful of other people there. Mostly little old ladies piddling away their pensions. But there were also other desis. Think I'm kidding? Think again:
This was one of two desi families I saw just strolling through the casino.*~*~
I wasn't completely honest when I said my parents don't gamble. My mom is a sucker for slot machines. I have been known to lose the odd dollar here and there myself. I know they are completely ridiculous. But I like the sound the machines make when you win. Perhaps you will understand why I was completely powerless against the following:
It's the Dummies guy! I LOVE the Dummies guy! Winning for dummies? Come on! What a marketing scheme! I lost $50 in ten minutes.
