Wild, Wilder, Wildest ...

 

Being able to work on an airplane from New-York to Lisbon, capital of Portugal, to enjoy two full days of rest, all expenses paid in a four-stars luxury hotel downtown, I thought life was a ball and pulling at me… with the urge to search for excitement.

Upon landing and shortly after exiting the terminal building to step into our crew limousine, however tired and longing for a bath as we all were…I still possessed enough energy to bring forth some idea I had…although to no one in particular.

In few words I expressed this wish to go to a casino and play the tables just to “see” if I had a lucky hand. Of course I knew about the Casino in Estoril which was a taxi ride away.

The three men in our crew, the Captain, First Officer and Flight Engineer, brightened up instantly. They emerged from semi- lethargy and agreed then and there to accompany me.

Brilliant, I thought. The perfect escort: serious men and no women giggling with fear in the background.

Later that evening, a taxi was summoned and with my American cowboys, I was on my way… thrilled with the prospects of navigating into the unknown.

As the etiquette called for, the dress code was strict to enter any European Casino.  Suits and ties for the Gentlemen and for the Ladies, formal evening dresses were mandatory.

In my crew case, I always had a respectable classy gown. A  black long and sexy strapless dress along with the matching black silk gloves that went up to my elbows.

To finalize this “dramatic “vision, I had an elegant telescopic cigarette holder to smoke with. It went from 5, 5 cm to its fully extendable 23cm.

As I entered the Casino, elbowed by my dignified male escort, I was oozing with self-confidence, in a kind of easy nonchalance. With a dancing motion of the hips, I walked gingerly on high heels, making my way slowly towards one of Blackjack tables.

I climbed quite comfortably on one of the high stools framing the table, nodded to the croupier, a young attractive Portuguese man…while a  glass of Dom Pérignon suddenly appeared by my side.

My escorts were attentive to my unspoken desires.

It was my first time at playing Blackjack but, after a few minutes of observing my neighbours, I began to play my own hand.

I was enjoying myself thoroughly and getting cockier by the second… so much so that I decided to light a cigarette…um… at full length!

I had placed the lit cigarette at the very end of the holder and IT, being at an arm’s length from my mouth, made smoking a wee bit perilous because… I couldn’t see the ashes.  

Also from the corner of an eye, another happening was developing itself, as I could see.

A crisp and expressionless man in a conservative tuxedo was watching me attentively as he approached our table.

He stood by the croupier, looked at him, exchanged glances first at the table, then at the players, finally, with the longest inquisitive stare towards me!

It didn’t take long.

 I was quietly but firmly escorted out of the Casino…

There was no drama. It was done with class. I didn’t even raise my voice when I asked for an explanation. 

The important man just looked at my cigarette holder. Ha! I thought… what then?

What did I do… except win each hand?

I was up to $300 and that was a lot of good money in those days…in poor Portugal before their entrance in the European family.

He wanted to know, in a halting school English, what “my “device was all about.  Before I had a chance to answer, in a couple of seconds, the cigarette holder had exited my mouth with the man’s brusque but precise dexterity.

There was something quite strange about it, he said.

I believe, at this point, that his action was not a way to warn me about the dangers of nicotine but an expression of concern about this “ object “ I had in my mouth.

Was my telescopic cigarette holder a kind of spying instrument? ( Come on, I thought, even James Bond is more sophisticated than I ).

 But what else…could it be…since I had been winning…in such a brilliant way?

In retrospect, the only real probable danger during this whole episode, I thought, would have been my cigarette burning the tables’ felt carpet…or even starting a fire!

Yes, I must confess that, while I had been playing and winning, I had perilously kept my cigarette holder more or less in my mouth the whole time, but the distance between my mouth and the cigarette tip made me totally oblivious of the exact precision the ashes had landed.

CONCLUSION:

Next day, I went shopping with my bird-sisters and spent my $300 winnings.