99 cent fried Twinkies

Saturday afternoon I went looking for Sassy Sally’s, a dive on Freemont Street I’d been to years ago. Back then there was an Elvis impersonator in front of the casino luring passersby with a free picture of yourself standing in Glitter Gulch with Elvis who wore a white jacket and gold framed glasses and looked considerably shorter and thinner than the Elvis I remembered.

But Sassy Sally’s was gone. Not gone, really, just repurposed. Now it’s called Mermaid’s Casino and instead of Elvis, they have a couple of 80s-era showgirls at the entrance handing out Mardi Gras beads and vouchers for a free drawing for $10,000. “Hurry, hurry, hurry!” whispered the showgirl as she strung some beads around my neck. “The drawing is in 15 minutes!”

This was definitely the old Las Vegas. It reminded me of being in the basement of a frat house back in the “Animal House” era. The carpet felt mushy and smelled of stale beer, there was a reek of ancient frying grease and cigarette smoke in the air, and everyone was wearing a funny hat and looked incredibly drunk (the drinks here are strong).

I got a Bloody Mary and was just walking around, admiring the dexterity of extremely large women to sit on tiny little stools in front of the old-fashioned slot machines which still take nickels and quarters and pay back in the same, when I came across the snack shack in the back which was offering up 99 cent deep-fried Twinkies and Oreos. I seriously considered getting one of the greaser Twinkies (what the hell, right?) until I saw the pregnant 16-year-old in front of me take a bite of hers and then spit the dark tan-colored nugget out on the carpet.

“Pokey!” exclaimed her mohawk-coiffed boyfriend who was just about to bite into his fried Oreos. “What the hell are you doing?”

“They’re dis-gusting!” screamed Pokey. “I think I’m going to puke.”

And with that she headed for the ladies’ room while I got out of line.

By now the fifteen minutes had gone by and I was figuring the free drawing for $10,000 was about to commence so I thought while I waited I’d sit down at one of the nickel slot machines and just toy around with it. I got some twenty dollars worth of change and picked out my machine and not two minutes later a cocktail waitress whose name tag said GABBY came by and asked if I’d like another Bloody Mary, even though my first one wasn’t half done. What the heck.

Like I said, I was just waiting for the drawing so I was only playing one nickel at a time.

“Ain’t never gonna win anything that way,” said the large woman perched beside me. “Everyone knows you’ve got to play five to beat the odds. You play just one nickel, you walk away broke.”

I wasn’t quite sure how broke I could get playing just one nickel but the woman was a little intimidating; she kept sneaking sideways glances at me like she thought I might be trying to steal the wallet out of the oversized vinyl purse slung over her shoulder. So I started putting in five nickels a pull. What the heck.

And you know what? She was right. I immediately heard some ding-ding-dings and a flood of nickels came pouring down the chute. This was fun. Gabby came back with my Bloody Mary and I finished off the first one and handed the empty glass to her. “Look at you!” she said, standing like a proud mother with her hand on one hip. “A winner already.”

“I told him how to do it,” said the big woman next to me.

“That’s right, she did,” I said, smiling back at her. We were friends now. Maybe after the drawing I’d see if she wanted to go for a deep-fried Twinkie.

I played for two hours. It’s amazing how the time goes by when these little coins keep rolling down the chute every so often and Gabby keeps freshening up your drink. I think it’s quite possible I was getting a little tight. So I got up a bit wobbly from my stool, hugged the big woman sitting next to me, and took my big bucket of coins over to the cashier who paid me exactly $5.25. In cash.

It was dark when I got outside. And they still hadn’t had that free drawing.