We're about one and a half miles away and the smell of the ocean is overtaking
us as we approach our destination. The golden bright lights of the Borgata
are growing nearer as our journey comes to an end. The adrenaline starts to pump
as we all think of the possible situations that can occur during our stint in Atlantic
City. We park the car and get out, now the adrenaline is flowing at an even higher level.
The lights from the surrounding casinos are overwhelming, The Trump
Plaza's beautiful red and yellow light glimmer from miles away along with the rest of the
casinos that inhabit this wonderful city. As we're walking down the
boardwalk the mist from the ocean is hitting us all in the face keeping us grounded in the
current situation, without this mist one could lose all sense of reality.
We see our destination about two blocks away, a wonderful place called The
Borgata. The glimmering lights act as our guiding tool. As we approach the adrenaline
is now at its highest peak. A large dark skinned man with a musky smell asks us for
identification as we walk in, my hand shakes with excitement, as if I were ten and
At first glance upon entering this wonderful establishment I thought we were in the
wrong place. That was probably because I was almost blinded by the tremendous
assortment of lights. Lights from the slots, walls, blackjack signs, craps signs,
restroom signs and everything else in there. I couldnt believe it, every single item looked
to be surrounded by a large string of illuminating lights. As we stepped into the gaming
area the sound of slots being pulled and the smell of cigar and cigarette smoke was
overbearing. It was almost hard to breathe. Gasping for air and looking wildly for the
blackjack tables we plowed through the crowded slot area.
We finally asked a man dressed in an expensive suit to direct us
...