“If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story.”–Orson Welles
My dad tells this story of his friend’s big night at the craps table in Vegas. It was one of those scenes that generally doesn’t exist in reality–the casino’s population all concentrated around this one table, my dad’s friend spurred on by the rallying cries of everyone around him. He was holding court, throwing more and more colored chips on every space of felt left on the table, which at that point looked like the streets of New Orleans at the height of Mardi Gras. The story is legendary, as the entire table was up thousands of dollars.