The reason I don't gamble in Las Vegas is because of San Jose, the fast-paced car-honking capital of Costa Rica.
I had never played blackjack before, but the hotel croupiers were more than willing to teach a fourteen year old. I had what amounted to about seventy cents in Costa Rican colons, and I set it all down on the table and made some money.
Even to a fourteen year old, the dingy old red-carpeted hotel in downtown San Jose exudes style. Locals hang out at the casino table and manila-suited tourists pace the marble beyond.
The family accepted some of my gambling, but what they didn't know is that I hadn't cashed out yet. I was going back when everyone was asleep and playing all night. I was playing alongside men who were drinking, men who didn't speak my language, and who all were losing. It was invigorating, and whats more is the casino table faced the San Jose streets: a constant bustle of characters.
The Hare Krishnas were everywhere - white guys in the tropics. They were irritating but equally funny to watch, and as a fourteen year old I got a kick out of their seriousness as they tried to convert every English-speaker in their paths.
Whenever I play blackjack these days, I still associate it with those first days in the balmy weather of San Jose. Playing cards with the guys; an old table, some funny talk, and a bottle of gin. Why is it in Las Vegas, I just don't enjoy the game?
