When I was home from college during summer vacation, Uncle Jo, my dad’s second brother who was a church minister from Los Angeles, came up to San Francisco for a little time out. He wanted to go to Reno and asked my dad to accompany him. Dad didn’t particularly want to go but agreed after I said I would drive them.
After checking in at the hotel, Dad took one look around the casino and went upstairs to take a nap. Uncle Jo pulled out a twenty dollar bill and exchanged it into coins. I watched him inserting a coin into a slot machine and pulled the handle.
“Uncle Jo,” I said, ” I thought a church minister is not supposed to gamble.”
“I’m not gambling. I’m playing. There is a difference. ” His big owlish eyes were fixated on the three images of fruit that have rolled to a stop. “I play slowly, until all the coins are gone. If I win money I get to play longer. Twenty is my limit.”
“What if some of your parishioners see you here? They may not know that you’re just playing and may start a rumor.”
“That’s why I’m in Reno, and not in Las Vegas.” Uncle Jo flashed me a great smile.
I left Uncle Jo to his recreation. When all his coins were gone he came over and watched me play until all my coins were gone.
“Uncle Jo, we still have half a day here. What else would you like to do?”
“Take a nap, go to the buffet and watch the show.”
“The show with nude girls?”
“Of course.” He laughed again. “What else?”
