Nothing Says Christmas Like …
‘Nothing Says Christmas Like ….’ - by Kerri Pomarolli
OK, is it me or is it weird that I spend the blessed holiday of Christ’s birth at Pechanga Resort and Casino playing slots with my family and eating the $19.99 buffet?
We were all staying at this condo in San Diego, and of course my mom didn’t want to cook. So she finds out we’re close to all these Indian Casinos and despite her southern belle, Protestant appearance, she has a severe slot machine addiction.
Since Christmas was a Sunday we had to find a local church so “God would bless our gambling,” mom said! (Yeah she says she’s Christian!) Anyway, we ended up going to mass, arriving 30 minutes late and having to sit in the folding chairs at the back in the “Pagan” section. As we were going up for communion, my husband Ron has no idea what he is doing so he’s behind me in line doing Catholic bits from his friend’s comedy acts. I’m sure he’s going straight to hell for talking in the communion line. I learned that in Catholic school.
We drive away down the windy nature-filled road, and there it is like a pink flashing beacon: “Pechanga Casino”. Ahhh…what an oasis. I felt like the Griswalds in the Family Vacation movies.
We walk in, and the smoke from all the men in blue jeans and T-shirts that say “I’m with Stupid” and chain smoking old ladies permeated our lungs and we knew we were home. Immediately, my dad gives everyone in the family $15 cash and 45 minutes to see who can go and make the most money from it. Whoever wins the most gets everyone else’s money. By the way, my little brother’s roommate is with us to join in our Holy tradition. He owns a tattoo parlor (“which only adds color to his personality,” my mother explains). She’s trying so hard to be polite, resisting the urge to read all of his “I Love Mother” tattoos.
So off we went, and within minutes, with the luck of the Irish Korean, my husband Ron has won $112. I thought he looked even more sexy than usual .Our family being so holy, we decided to keep our Christmas challenge rolling into a slot tournament. We each started with $10, with 30 minutes to see who could win the most, winner takes all. When we come back, my little brother Mark has won $108. I immediately revert to chanting “We win! We Win!” like an 8 year old. My brother and I start going at it because he won’t give Ron and I his share, even though we won. Even my husband is like, “Kerri let him keep the money!” We are now making a full spectacle of ourselves in the middle of the casino and it reminds me of all those fond family car trips fighting with my brother growing up. Ahh… the memories. Even though it’s 20 years later we’re not any more mature. My mom sides with Mark. He’s a social worker, she rationalizes, so he needs it more. Dad is legalistic like me. “A rule is a rule. Hand it over, son!” Yessss! I love my dad!
We end up fighting all the way through the buffet line with all the other lost souls celebrating Christmas by gorging themselves into a carbohydrate coma. It was pathetic, but we were right there in it and who were we to judge? “All you can eat” are holy words in my family… Always has been.
After three rounds of dessert I decide to take all the casino winnings and donate them to the kids that are living at the orphanage where Mark works. So everybody wins. I thought maybe God would forgive our gambling family if we gave Him the winnings? I think He was too busy laughing.
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Tags: Kerri, News and Media, Pomarolli
December 3rd, 2006 at 5:05 pm
Articles like this are interesting. Good job boyz!