One Fine Day 1

I like to gamble. I like the sound of the cards as they fall on the table. I like looking into the dealer's eyes as she looks at one of her cards. I especially like blackjack. There's something BLACK about it.

I didn't always like gambling. I used to live a fairly normal life. I say "fairly" normal because it looked normal from the outside. From the outside, things look fairly normal. I tried to be as normal as possible. There was, of course, my remarkable ability to make money which wasn't quite normal. I somehow always knew how to make money. After I made a few million dollars, I got myself a pretty wife. It was nice. Every weekend, we would go away somewhere. We would stare at the stars, half-drunk, and she would smile so sweetly. IT was the kind of life I always imagined. I didn't have to worry about a thing. 

I have to hit now. You'll have to excuse me. My mind literally goes everywhere. I have to double. I win. Maybe it is just luck but I have a knack for winning. At the same time, I'm an alchoholic. Perhaps it is more exact to say that I have become an alchoholic. The more and more I tried to escape from life, the more and more I was sick and tired of life, the more and more I wanted to forget, the more and more I drank. I drank in the morning, in the afternoon, and at night. It began when we had our first girl. For some reason, I've never been good with kids. Changing diapers was not my thing. And oh boy did she cry at night when I was trying to get some sleep. My wife took care of the baby while I worked. My wife, after she had the first kid, just didn't want ot do anything on weekends anymore. In fact, she never wanted to do anything anymore. She had formed some kind of magical bond between the child and herself, and ME, she began to eye me as if I were some intruder. Soon, I began to come home later and later, often intoxicated.