|
You can imagine my excitement when I got a letter from my old friend, Pierre, inviting me to the grand opening of his new casino: Le Casino des Snobs de la France.
Pierre -- a casino owner! It was hard to imagine. He had been my best friend back in college and was the wildest guy you could imagine. It wasn't enough for him to streak through a football game, no sir. He set a record by being the first soccer player ever to show up at a collegiate game dressed only in shoes and shin guards.
I could just imagine what his casino would be like! Topless dealers, flowing booze, some of the wildest games ever invented -- maybe even slot machines that actually paid out!
I wouldn't pass this up for the world, so I got on line, found a reduced price ticket on Cheapie Charter Airline (motto: "The Lowest Prices Across the Atlantic -- Or At Least As Far As We Can Get") and headed to Paris. From there, I rented a car from Hearse ("The Car You're Dying to Ride In") and drove down to Le Casino des Snobs.
"I'm sorry, monsieur, but you can not park that thing anywhere near the casino," the parking valet told me. "Our parking lot is reserved for Mercedes, Rolls, Lamborghinis, and other makes worthy of Casino des Snobs. You will have to take it to the Low Life Parking Area in town -- or better, drive it off of a cliff into the sea."
"I'll have you know that I am a personal friend of Pierre, the owner," I said indignantly.
"Please don't tell that to anyone," the valet said. "It would not be nice to hold him up to public ridicule."
Ignoring him, I left the car where it was and headed to the casino's main door.
"I'm sorry," said the doorman, "but deliveries go through the back door."
"I'm not a delivery man," I replied. "I am a guest."
"Dressed like THAT?" the doorman asked in shock.
"What's wrong with the way I'm dressed?" I asked. "This suit is the latest American fashion."
"That," he said with a sneer, "is exactly what I meant."
"I demand to speak with Pierre," I said indignantly.
"Pierre the janitor?" he asked.
"No. Pierre the owner!"
At that very moment, I spotted Pierre. I couldn't believe my eyes. Pierre, who had gone through college never wearing anything fancier than a t-shirt with a hole and two stains, was dressed in black tie and tails!
"Josh, mon vieux!" he exclaimed. "Come in, come in. And don't worry about that ridiculous outfit you are wearing, I expected something like that and have a tuxedo waiting for you."
"Tuxedo? What's going on here? Are you getting married or something?"
"Josh, this is the Casino des Snobs," he said. "Your suit is perfect for Circus Circus, especially if you want to be mistaken for one of the clowns, but it is not OUR level."
"Pierre, this is ME you're talking to. Josh. Your old college buddy, who remembers you wearing a purple and pink striped gown to graduation."
"That was only a graduation ceremony," Pierre said, "it meant nothing. Tonight you are at a casino opening. THAT requires a touch of class."
"You mean that tuxedos are only required tonight?" I asked, a bit relieved. "Any other time I will be able to come in wearing normal clothes?"
"Of course not," Pierre said. "It just means that because of the opening, we are having some journalists here and have lowered the standards accordingly. On normal nights, simply wearing a tuxedo will not be enough. It will have to be a tuxedo from a top Paris designer."
After switching into the clothes Pierre put aside for me, I headed with him to the casino's dining room.
"This is just like the good old days," I said. "Eating cheeseburgers and swigging some wine with you."
"Cheeseburgers?" asked Pierre in shock. "What do you think this is? McDonalds? Non, my friend, I insist that you try something worthy of Le Casino des Snobs."
He turned to the waiter and told him to bring us both "bifteck hachee avec du fromage" and a bottle of Carignan-Grenache, 1993.
"What are they?" I asked.
"Cheeseburger and wine," said Pierre, "but with names that allow us to charge a fortune. As I said, we are NOT McDonalds!"
"After dinner," I said, "I want to head straight for the slots. Do you have a progressive jackpot here?"
"Mais non!" exclaimed Pierre. "We don't even have any slot machines. They are for peasants! Le Casino des Snobs offers only chemin de fer, roulette, and high stakes poker."
"Oh, well," I said, "I guess I can enjoy myself at the roulette tables. What time do the waitresses in those skimpy outfits start serving the free booze?"
"You joke, of course," Pierre replied. "We have only waiters in tuxedos who serve the finest wine and champagne, but none of it is free."
"That doesn't sound like much fun," I answered.
"You Americans are so crude," Pierre told me. "You have absolutely no idea of what the good life is. Here, in France, we are cultured and know how to enjoy ourselves on a higher level."
"Fine," I said in resignation. "I will try some chemin de fer and wine. Will you be at my table?"
"Me?" asked Pierre. "No way. I have other plans. You can waste your time playing cards with a bunch of boring snobs, but I'm heading for the Folies-Bergere -- this is the opening night of their new nude revue!"
|
|