There's only so much I can risk
So I'm an action junkie. I know it. I've said it, and everyone who knows me knows it.
Is it because I grew up at the racetrack? I don't know. I have no clue whether the chicken or the egg came first. I was walking up to the betting windows at 6. In Vegas, I knew my way around a craps table by 13.
I love to gamble. In my adult life, I get so excited to go to Vegas or Atlantic City or a Caribbean island with gambling. I simply love it. I've always had nothing to lose, so did it really matter anyway.
So here I find myself: I'm in Atlantic City at 38 years old. I was invited to do an appearance and a book signing at the phenomenal Borgata Water Club. Of course I would gamble. They gave me a spectacular suite and dinners and drinks and all of the spa treatments I could want. But something is different. This one time, I don't want to gamble. I don't want to put that money that I've never had down on that table. When you can't pay your rent, ironically, you're not afraid of such things, but when you have slaved like a dog and cant breathe, a blackjack table isn't where you want to take your risks.
I've suffered. I've worked. I've paid and I've gambled. At this stage of the game, I'd rather take my hard-earned paycheck and store it away. Go big or go home as I always say, but I'm going big in my career-not in AC. In fact, this weekend, instead of going big at the tables, I'm going home with my wallet intact.